#hangman x yn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jake-seresin · 2 years ago

Text

Every part I read just makes me want to scream!!! you really weren’t kidding when you said SLOW BURN 😩

me anytime they have a moment together:

Less Talk | Part VI

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: Jake can't stand Bradley's best friend. What's more, he's probably in love with her, which really pisses him off.

CW: swearing, pining, drinking as a coping mechanism, unresolved sexual tension, slow af burn

Jake pulls up to your house and turns to look at you. “You sure you want to stay here tonight?”

You stare at the empty driveway with a heavy sigh. “There’s no way he’s coming back,” you assure him.

Jake kills the engine. “I could stay, just in case.”

You smile to yourself and then glance up at him with a slight quirk to your eyebrow. “Why’re you being nice?”

Jake makes a face and scoffs uncomfortably. “I’m being practical,” he responds defensively, as though you’ve offended him. He steps out of the truck and walks around to help you down.

You avoid his gaze as you take his hand, muttering a quick thanks after he shuts your door. He nods in response and then falls in step with you as you head toward your front door. “You really didn’t have to walk me,” you say.

“Force of habit,” Jake responds flatly.

You glance at him with a grin. “With all the moonlit rides you’ve been handing out?”

Jake smirks and shakes his head, eyeing you in the sort of way that might be misconstrued as affectionate by an ill-informed bystander. He clears his throat as you walk up the steps of your porch, staying back with his hands in his pockets. “You coming to Rooster’s party next weekend?” he asks.

You turn to look at him after sticking your key into the lock. “Bradley’s having a party?”

Jake furrows his eyebrows, as though he’s surprised that this is news to you. “He didn’t tell you?”

You shrug. “Maybe it’s just for his aviator friends,” you respond, leaning into the door to open it.

“You’re invited, trust me,” Jake says.

You narrow your eyes at him, flicking on the light and pulling off your heels. “Maybe double check with him just in case. I don’t want to just show up.”

Jake sighs. “Fine, I’ll ask.”

You let out a groan once your shoes are off, curling your toes in and rotating your ankles. “Thanks for the ride, Seresin,” you say.

Jake gives you a tight smile. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

…

Jake comes home to find Bradley on the couch watching Family Guy reruns. The moment Jake walks through the door, Bradley lifts the remote and mutes the TV, glancing up at Jake with a smug smirk. “Honey, you’re home,” he says, in response to which Jake nearly throws his keys at him.

Instead, Jake removes his shoes in silence and drops his keys and wallet onto the coffee table. Then, he goes straight for the fan in the far corner and aggressively plugs it in. “This is stupid,” he mutters under his breath. “I shouldn’t have to plug it in every time I want to use it.”

Bradley nods when Jake turns back around. “I agree,” he responds. “Huge inconvenience. To think you have to perform an extra arm movement to reach the plug when you’re already up to turn on the fan.” He shakes his head. “Frankly, it’s just an unrealistic expectation.”

Jake narrows his eyes. “Of course, you’d take her side.”

Bradley laughs. “I’m not taking sides! I didn’t realize there were sides.”

“There are always sides, Rooster,” Jake says firmly, plopping down into an armchair.

Bradley leans forward on the couch, resting his forearms on his knees. “So, speaking of sides, are we going to talk about how you beat the shit out of Y/N’s boyfriend?”

Jake grimaces. “He’s not her boyfriend anymore.”

Bradley raises his eyebrows, staring at Jake. He lifts a hand and drags in slowly over the bottom part of his face, apparently lost for words. Finally, he slumps back into the couch and says, “Dude.”

Jake nods, staring at the floor. “Yeah,” he responds.

After another several seconds of silence, Bradley adds, “Shit.”

To which Jake replies, “Yeah.”

Finally, Bradley rises from the couch and heads out of the living room, only to return a minute later with two tall cans of beer. He hands one to Jake who grunts in appreciation. Bradley opens his can and takes a large gulp before sitting back down on the couch. He glances at the TV, the show still on in the background on mute, and turns it off. “Well,” he says, setting his can down onto the coffee table. “You’re going to have to tell me the rest.”

Jake slides a coaster toward Bradley before he speaks. “Nothing to tell,” he says. “She needed a ride, I gave her one. Mentioned that she broke up with him at some point. That was it.”

“That was it?” Bradley asks, unconvinced.

Jake glares up at him. “What were you expecting?”

Bradley makes a face. “I don’t know.”

Jake lets out a sigh and guzzles a quarter of his can. “She hates my truck,” he says.

Bradley nods, unsurprised. “To be expected.”

“She thinks it’s ‘rough around the edges’,” he says, imitating your intonation. Bradley hooks an eyebrow, but Jake continues. “And too high off the ground.”

“Huh,” Bradley responds. “Actually, she’s not –”

“And it doesn’t have a key fob which apparently makes me sexist or something –”

“What?”

“Did you know that he wouldn’t even let her lean on his fucking car?” Jake says angrily, taking another swig of beer.

Bradley watches him with mild confusion. “Why would that random piece of information ever come up in casual conversation?”

Jake exhales sharply. “Keep up, Bradshaw. We were watching the meteor shower and –”

“The meteor shower!” Bradley exclaims with a laugh. “Smooth.”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Then one thing led to another –”

“Love it when that happens –”

Jake lets out an irritable sigh. “Are you gonna let me talk?”

Bradley chuckles. “I thought there was nothing to tell.”

Jake watches him stonily. “She ended up on the hood of my truck.”

Bradley narrows his eyes. “How did she get up there, I wonder?”

“I fucking put her there, Bradshaw!” Jake says in exasperation.

Bradley nods slowly. “As one does…”

Jake snorts with a bit of a smirk and shakes his head. “You’re the fucking worst.”

Bradley grins happily. “This calls for another beer,” he says, getting up again.

“Bradshaw,” Jake says before Bradley disappears down the hallway. “You’re having a party next weekend.”

“I am?” Bradley halts mid step.

“Yeah, you should invite some people.”

Bradley purses his lips. “Okay…”

“Don’t forget to invite Y/N. I think she might be kind of upset that you haven’t mentioned it to her,” Jake says, glancing up at his friend.

“Upset that I didn’t mention a party I had no idea I was throwing?” Bradley asks with a knowing smile.

Jake shrugs, avoiding Bradley’s scrutinizing gaze. “You know how she gets. She’s so weird.”

“Yeah,” Bradley responds. “Really fucking weird.”

…

Three days later, Jake is more or less itching for the weekend. Gone are the days when he could successfully stifle the highlight reel of times he’s spent in your presence. A heated glance here, an unintentional touch there, and, most recently, an entire evening spent cuddling with you under the stars. Jake Seresin does not cuddle. And, when he does, it is always with an ulterior motive. Now, he’s not going to pretend that such a motive doesn’t exist where you are concerned, but somehow, with you, the act of cuddling felt fulfilling all on its own. And obviously this revelation makes him extremely agitated.

He slams his locker shut absently, tuning out the majority of conversation around him, when his phone rings. He digs into his pocket and glares at the unknown number impatiently before shoving it back into his pocket. A minute later, his phone rings again. He picks it up with a scowl as he exits the locker room and brings it to his ear.

“Hello?” he hears your voice on the other end. “Jake?”

He scrunches up his eyebrows. “Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you respond. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” he says, making his way out into the parking lot. “Did you know that the last time somebody called me on the telephone was in ’98 when my buddy, Bernard, tried to cheat me out of my holographic Pikachu card?”

There’s a brief pause before you respond with, “What?”

“How’d you get this number?” Jake asks, getting into his truck.

“Yellow pages,” you reply flatly.

Jake chuckles. “So, Rooster’s just handing it out now.”

“He’s selling it, actually,” you say cheerily. “Expect about a dozen calls from the IRS threatening to freeze your assets if you don’t send them a money order.”

Jake snorts. “You need something, princess?”

Another pause. “Don’t call me that.”

“You don’t like it?”

He hears a blast of static when you let out a heavy sigh. “I lost an earring. I’m really hoping it’s somewhere in your truck.”

“I’ll take a look around,” he says, leaning over the console to check under the passenger seat.

“Thanks,” you respond. “So, I take it you want me to just text next time?”

Jake raises his eyebrows as he lifts his head. “Next time?”

The silence on your end makes him smile.

“Go ahead and call,” he says when you don’t respond. “Turns out I don’t mind it.”

You laugh. “It’s my sweet voice, isn’t it?”

Jake purses his lips and nods. “It’s definitely less annoying when it isn’t accompanied by your swinging arms.”

“At least my swinging arms don’t end up in other people’s faces.”

Jake chuckles, plucking a teardrop earring out from the gap under the back of the passenger seat. “Guess what I found?” he says.

“Is it my earring?” you reply excitedly.

Jake rolls his eyes. “No, it’s my aunt Judy,” he responds. “Of course, it’s your earring, you big dork.”

He hears you giggle through the phone and smiles. “I think I prefer princess.”

“Too late,” Jake responds. He drops the earring into his cup holder. “Want me to bring it over?”

“Uh,” you hesitate briefly as he pulls out of his parking spot. “You know what? It’s okay, I’ll just get it from you this weekend.”

“I’m already on my way,” he says, although he hasn’t even reached the main road.

“I’m not home!” you say quickly. “Just – don’t waste your time, Jake. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

Jake narrows his eyes. “Alright,” he responds. “Are you okay?”

“Of course, I’m okay,” you say indignantly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Fine,” he says. “Later.”

“Later,” he hears you mutter, but your voice is already distant, as though you’ve removed the phone from your ear.

Jake exhales slowly and then pushes down a little harder on the gas.

…

When he pulls up to your house – because, naturally, he decides to completely disregard your request to wait until the weekend – he sees the white mustang in your driveway. He’s out of his truck and jogging up to your front door in a matter of seconds. He hops over the steps right onto the porch and starts knocking.

It’s a solid minute before he hears a click and he’s almost resolved to find another way in when you open the door.

You blink at him in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

Jake exhales irritably. “What are you doing here?” he asks. “I thought you weren’t home.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m busy right now,” you say, starting to close the door.

Jake slams his palm into the door before you can shut it. “Yeah,” he responds. “I bet.” He looks over your shoulder into the front hall. “Where is he?”

You sigh in exasperation. “Seresin, can I help you?” you snap.

He glances back at you impatiently. “Thought you broke up with him,” he says gruffly.

You lower your gaze. “It’s not that simple.”

Jake takes a step forward, putting himself right over the threshold, and you glance up at him warily. But Jake is looking at the man coming up behind you.

“What’s he doing here?” Mustang asks aggressively.

Jake gives him a flat look. “Nice shiner, son.”

Mustang starts for Jake but you step into the open doorway, your body pressing into Jake’s as the latter tries to push his way inside. Jake feels your hand flatten against his abdomen and, to his great dismay, he folds instantly at your touch, retreating despite his desire to have to out with Mustang once and for all.

“He’s just dropping something off for me,” you say quickly, holding your hand out to him while he stares at you blankly, still trying to recuperate. “My earring?” you remind him.

Jake gives you a sheepish look, realizing that he left it in his truck.

“Why does he have your earring?” Mustang asks suspiciously.

“I’ll go grab it,” Jake says, turning to head back, his mind still hazy.

“I’ll go with you,” he hears you say.

Jake glances over his shoulder as you join him on the porch. His eyes follow you as you skip down the steps ahead of him and walk briskly toward his truck. He follows you moodily, meeting your gaze when he reaches for the doorhandle. “Why’s he here?” he asks.

You fold your arms over your chest, your lips pressed into a tight line. “Why the fuck do you care?”

Jake shakes his head with a contemptuous laugh. “I don’t fucking care,” he says, reaching into his truck to get the earring out of his cupholder. He straightens his back and presents the teardrop with a stony expression. You hold out your hand and he places the earring into your palm, letting his fingers linger just a split-second longer than he probably should before grazing them along your skin and finally letting his arm fall back to his side.

You furrow your eyebrows and close your hand around the earring. “It was my grandmother’s,” you say quietly.

Jake purses his lips, ignoring the weight saddling his heart. “Suits you,” he says, his voice a little rough.

You blink up at him with a bit of a smile. “He just stopped by,” you say. “I had no idea he was coming. I saw him pull up while we were talking.”

Jake narrows his eyes. “And you didn’t send that asshole packing?”

Your mouth curls into a slightly restrained, sideways smile. “He’s not an asshole.”

Jake fixes you with the most skeptical expression he could muster.

“Anyway,” you continue with a wave of your hand. “He’s trying.”

Jake leans into the side of his truck, watching you with slightly narrowed eyes. He can’t imagine why you’d even entertain the idea of letting that idiot back into your life but, ultimately, this kind of thing is none of his business and he’s not entirely sure why he’s making it just that. “Effort is good,” he says. “You deserve that.”

You look down at your feet and Jake glances at Mustang’s form in the doorway. “See you Saturday, Jake,” you say.

He nods. “Call me if you need me.”

…

Bradley greets you at the door when you arrive. Jake sets down his beer and moves unhurriedly in your direction, noticing with relief that Mustang isn’t with you.

“How are you?” he asks once Bradley steps out of the way. Bradley claps Jake on the back as he retreats and Jake throws him an annoyed glance.

“Good,” you respond, unzipping your hoodie to reveal a crop top underneath. “You?”

“Decent,” he responds, holding out his hand to take your hoodie.

Instead of handing it over, however, you hook your arm through his and tug him forward. “Where’s the alcohol, Seresin?” you ask.

Jake smirks, allowing you to lead him through the living room toward the corridor. He ignores Bradley’s stupid grin and wiggling eyebrows as the two of you pass the other guests and make your way into the kitchen. “What are you in the mood for?” Jake asks, opening the refrigerator.

You walk around to peer under his arm. “Got anything harder?” you ask casually.

Jake stares at the assortment of beers and coolers lining the shelves, seized by a cold sweat as he considers the various hard things he could offer you. He lets out a sigh, shaking off the brief stupor your question’s triggered, and looks down at you with a small smile. He closes the refrigerator slowly. “Whiskey?” he asks, nodding toward the liquor cabinet in the dining room. “Or vodka?” he knocks a couple of times on the freezer door with his knuckle.

“Let’s go with vodka,” you say, finally stepping away.

Jake watches you turn on the spot, examining the snack-filled bowls on the counters as he reaches into the freezer to pull out a bottle of Smirnoff. He tries his best to refrain from dwelling on how cute you look in your faded, extremely flared jeans as he pulls two shot glasses out of the cupboard. “What’re we drinking to?” he asks, setting the glasses down on the counter.

You glance up at him pointedly. “You mean, what’re we drinking to forget?”

Jake purses his lips and pours. “You’re the boss.”

You grimace, plucking up your shot glass. “Since when?”

He lifts his own glass and clinks it with yours. “Since I’ve realized how much easier it is to just agree with you on everything.”

You frown. “Am I so hard to be around?”

There’s that word again. “Would you rather be easy?” Jake asks.

You shrug. “Well, I don’t want to be aggravating.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You give him a flat look. “Okay, pot,” you retort.

Jake snorts. “Can we drink now?”

“Cheers,” you say. “To being less aggravating.”

“That would require an awful lot of silence,” he notes.

You roll your eyes. “To talking less.”

Jake catches your gaze as you bring the glass to your lips. The extent to which you’re going to follow through on this particular endeavor is entirely inconsequential since he seems absurdly drawn to you whether you’re talking or not. You throw back your shot and Jake releases a breath before following suit.

You slam your glass down onto the counter with a cringe. “We need something to chase it!” you cry, bouncing slightly on the spot.

Jake reaches for the fridge and quickly pulls out a jug of orange juice, twisting off the top and handing it over to you. You grasp it quickly and chug right from the bottle as Jake laughs. After a few gulps, you hold the juice out to Jake. “Thanks,” he says, taking a swig.

He screws the top back on, but you say, “Leave it out.”

Jake narrows his eyes and sets the jug down onto the counter. “So, how many of these is it going to take before you tell me what’s up?” he asks, pouring another round.

You take a deep breath but don’t respond.

Jake hands you the glass, studying you carefully. “I take it back,” he says. “Less talk is more aggravating.”

You glance up at him with a small laugh and he stuffs his hand into his pocket to keep it from tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “So, I just aggravate you no matter what I do,” you say humorously.

Jake tries to hold back a grin. He’d probably find you a lot less aggravating if you were standing just a little bit closer. “I wouldn’t worry about it, princess,” he says.

You blink at him accusingly. “What did I say about calling me that?”

Jake smirks. “You said you preferred it to ‘dork’.”

You roll your eyes. “Must it be either?”

“Uh, Y/N?” Bradley pokes his head into the kitchen uncertainly.

You turn to glance in his direction, looking slightly unprepared for an interruption. “Yeah?”

Jake glances over his shoulder to see Bradley standing at the entrance to the kitchen with a troubled look on his face. “Is there something you want to talk about?” he asks pointedly.

Jake turns back to see you licking your lips uncomfortably.

“I just got off the phone with –” Bradley starts, but you cut him off.

“Yeah,” you say. “I know.”

Jake narrows his eyes, glancing between you and Bradley suspiciously.

“I’m figuring it out,” you say, an edge to your voice.

Bradley keeps looking at you as though he’s expecting more.

But you don’t submit to the scrutiny. “Cheers, Jake,” you say, knocking your shot glass into his with enough force to splash some of the vodka over his hand.

“Cheers, princess,” he mutters as you down your glass.

You squirm at the burn but don’t bother with the juice. Not a moment later, he feels your hand close around his. “Come on, Seresin,” you say. “It’s my favorite song.”

You pull him after you out of the kitchen and Jake has but a second to lock eyes with Bradley, who’s still wearing the same concerned expression with which he arrived. Then, the two of you blow past him back into the living room, joining the dancing crowd in the middle of the room just as your favorite song comes to an end. You drop Jake’s hand as the crowd begins to thin, glancing awkwardly at the speakers when the first notes of a cheesy ballad ring out.

Jake furrows his brows, perceiving your obvious agitation, and holds out his hand to you. You glance up at him sharply without a hint of a smile. In fact, you’re wearing a glowering scowl. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you caution.

“Yeah, I got that,” Jake responds.

You gulp before hesitantly placing your hand in his. He closes his fingers around yours and takes a step forward, stealing a moment to appreciate that being this close to you invigorates every one of his senses. He puts his other hand around your back, feeling the sliver of skin between the hem of your top and the waistband of your jeans. He gives your hand a small squeeze in an effort to keep from gripping into your flesh.

You lower your head as he pulls you a touch closer, which Jake takes as a sign that you might be feeling something you prefer to ignore. He can certainly relate to that sentiment. “Nice earrings,” he says, starting to move slowly to the music.

Your hand goes up to feel the teardrop hanging from your earlobe. You flash him a brief grin before looking away.

Jake holds back a smile; completely taken with the way you can’t seem to look him in the eye. You rest your hand over his chest and he nearly blacks out. He wonders if you can feel his racing heart, accelerating under the palm of your hand. He stoops slightly, intoxicated by the smell of your hair. He doesn’t even care that half his squad is watching him dissolve at your every touch. He hardly gives a damn that Bradley is amongst the spectators, looking on as Jake drowns blissfully in your eyes when you finally look up.

“Thanks, Jake,” you say softly.

Jake watches you patiently, stilling as the song slowly fades out. He’s still holding you, still looking into your eyes when the beat of the next track gets the other guests back up on their feet. He’s still grazing his fingertips along the small of your back, still clutching your hand in his. He’s still entranced.

And you aren’t moving away either. You aren’t averting your gaze or pulling your hand out of his grasp. And, in that moment, he forgets all about your perplexing reluctance to address whatever’s got you throwing back shot after shot – presumably the same mystery that’s so clearly distressing Bradley – because all he can think about is how he’s going to kiss you before the night is through.

And how you’re probably going to kiss him back.

Tag List:

The rest of the tag list is in the comments!

@malindacath

@karleetakeenan

@wandering-wah

@callsign-sunshine

@ghost-heart34

@birdy-bat-writes

@matya4

@wkndwlff

@nyx2021

@bellamy1998

@oliviah-25

@alexxavicry

@army24--7

@thefandomimagines

@dracosluvbot

@smit41

@scenesofobx

@Criminalmindsandmarvel

@lunamoonbby

@malums-trash-can

@toothemoonanddback

@broketraveler87

@atarmychick007

@shanimallina87

@army24—7

@creativitybeware

@xoxabs88xox

@Yoyop7

@hallecarey1

@nik2blog

@rrocky0ah

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@lilianashomaresparza

@latetedslesetoiles

@Elenavampire21

@starberryhorse

@ginger-gabsq

@sarcastic-sourwolf

@risingtripletaurus

@untoldshortsofthefandoms

@dempy

@lanie-k

@clancycucumber230

@littlebookbengal

@zbeez-outlet

@the-winter-marvel33

@potato-girl99981

@phantomxoxo

@flashyourgreeneyesatme

@thenewdaysalreadyhere

@abaker74

#tgm: hangman fic #fic recs #daggers reblog challenge #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x yn #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x you #hangman fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

lovelytsunoda · 3 months ago

Text

the sixth sense | jake "hangman" seresin

summary: after a car accident totals her car and leaves her with the ability to see ghosts, an anxious police desk sergeant learns to live with the ghosts haunting her home, and the crush she has on the hot pilot who lives next door

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

warnings: car accidents, ghosts (but they're very funny ghosts!), sexual innuendos/advances made by a ghost, if you can recognize the names of the detectives/station staff and can correctly tell me what tv show they are from, you get a metaphorical cookie. jake is a very involved neighbour.

author's note: my f1 fics for this collection have been on the struggle bus lately, so here's hoping my top gun one does better

sargeant y/l/n wouldn't say she hated her job, exactly, but there were many days where she wasn't always thrilled with it. take today for example, her desk piled high with requisition forms for fingerprint checks, traffic camera footage, autopsy reports and more.

it wasn't that she didn't like the work. no, she found catching murderers to be most rewarding. it was the people she worked with. detectives who didn't see her as an equal, but as a machine, dropping files on her desk with a demand and an impossible deadline.

"yn, how busy are you for the next few days?"

she raised her eyebrows at the detective across from her. "for you, detective disher? i won't be free until at least the end of the week."

detective disher raised an eyebrow. "how much work are they piling on you? you aren't their servants, you can speak up and tell them you're too busy."

she rolled her eyes, chewing the end of her bic pen. "usually they hightail it out of here before i even have a chance to open my mouth. some of them don't even speak to me or give instructions, they just drop a file on my desk and assume that i know what to do with it."

detective disher frowned. "we really need another desk sargeant."

"you think?"

it was long after sundown when she left the office that night, overtime she probably wasn't going to get paid for. she hoped that leaving at 6:30 was worth it to have a clean desk in the morning, one almost free of files long enough that she could breathe. of course, by the morning, all of the late shift detectives would have dropped all of their files off for her review.

she was about halfway home when traffic started to pick up again, the glow of the led headlights making it difficult to see out of her side mirrors. her glasses claimed to be glare resistant, but what did someone without astigmatism know about glare?

she turned right at the next set of lights, descending down the hill that would lead to her small, cosy neighbourhood. she was still a fair distance away as she watched the light change from yellow to red, taking her foo toff the gas. the car ahead of her seemed to be slowing, but not by much, and the car behind her was uncomfortably close. she sped up slightly, ready to put her foot on the brakes whenever neccesary.

wait a minute, are his break lights out? he's stopping!

she slammed her foot on the brakes, watching helplessly as her car continued to slide forward, her front bumper colliding with the rusted tail hitch.

her head jerked forward from the impact, banging against the steering wheel before it all went black.

she came to in the hospital, where audio was blurry and vision even worse as the doctor explained the symptoms of a concussion to her.

“it was a bad scene all around. you’re lucky you weren’t injured further.” the doctor insisted. “legally, I can’t allow you to drive for the next few days. is there someone we can call?”

realistically, the only name that came to mind was detective dishers. her parents were two cities away, and she didn’t want to disturb them. her sister was on vacation, and she didn’t want to bother any of her friends.

disher picked her up by the main doors, a matchbox twenty song playing on his stereo as she groggily slipped into the passenger seat, a plastic baggie full of prescription drugs in her hands.

“just take me home, randy. I don’t want to talk about it.”

the detective sighed. “okay. But you know you don’t have to come into work tomorrrow, right?”

great. no work meant no leaving the house. no leaving the house meant that her thoughts drove her to the brink of madness.

she simply couldn’t win.

as she slipped into her bed, she must have been slowly losing her mind as she swore that she could hear voices in her room as she was drifting off. she didn't think much of it, chalking it up to exhaustion as she let sleep claim her.

the following morning, she groggily puttered around the kitchen, assembling a light breakfast as she called her captain to explain why she couldn't come to wrok.

"hey captain, i was in an accident last night-"

"i know. randy called me. are you doing okay?"

"no concussion, but the doctor wants me to monitor for signs, so i'm not super hopeful. disher drove me home, and i'm supposed to hear from the mechanics about the state of my car later today."

"well, take care of yourself, yn. if you need anything at all, you have my number, and you have randy's. but don't call adrian, he's probably just going to make things worse."

she sighed, rubbing the skin on her forehead, fingertips teasing the edge of the bandages from where she'd hit her head on the steering wheel. "thanks leland."

"my my, you look a little worse for wear, don't you?" the voice came from nowhere, very thickly british and definitely not familiar.

she spun around, spying a figure in the kitchen doorway. his long hair dusted the shoulders of his leather jacket, and his skinny jeans were ripped to oblivion. she screamed, reaching for the metal ladle in her utensils jar.

"how the fuck did you get into my house?"

"your house?" the man looked confused. "sweetheart, i've always been here. i wouldn't throw that at me, if i was you. you'll just damage the wall behind me."

"who the fuck are you?" she stammered. "you're not real, this is just concussion brain, i should call the doctor back and go another scan-"

"you're seeing ghosts, honey." this voice was older, deeper. kinder. and significantly less british. another body materialized in her kitchen, sitting at her breakfast counter. she was round and plump, with a rosy face and sweet, kind eyes. she wore a nun's habit over a white blouse and a long navy skirt. "rick over there died in 1984. i'm sister katherine, and i died in 1961. lovely to meet you properly."

"the fuck do you mean i'm seeing ghosts?!" yn screamed, the sound reverberating through her skull. "you're not real!"

"i understand that this is a lot to take in." sister katherine insisted "but it must have something to do with the accident you were in last night."

"how do you know about my accident?" she pushed, brandishing her metal spoon as a weapon.

rick rolled his eyes. "because we watched that detective bring you home last night. tell me, are you two sordid lovers? if i wasn't dead i would love to get a piece of your-"

"enough, richard!"

"what the hell is happening right now? has he been watching me in the shower?" yn hissed under her breath, starting to pace back and forth in front of her stovetop.

"if you've got a head injury, you should really sit down." the nun kept trying to reason with yn, but nothing in this situation made one iota of sense.

she shakily sat down in one of the ikea chairs in her kitchen, and noted how badly her hands were shaking. she dropped the ladle on the table, clasping her hands together. she refused to look at rick and sister katherine, instead focusing on where her shellac manicure had begun to chip.

she really should book herself in for a fresh one.

"we have visitors!" rick's voice carried, his ghostly body reappearing next to yn. she startled in the chair, refusing to meet his eyes. "he looks annoyed, and he's wearing mechanics coveralls. i wore a pair of those on stage once. ladies love 'em."

"he was in a very unsuccessful hair band." sister katherine clarified.

"i need both of you to stay quiet for a second." she sighed. "he must be from the body shop."

she closed the front door behind her, although that was unlikely to do much against two beings who could walk through walls, but a girl could try.

"are you y/n y/l/n?"

"sergeant y/n y/l/n." she corrected. "san francisco pd. can i help you?"

"i'm from clint's garage, detective disher brought your car in last night."

that didn't sound good. behind her, she could hear a car door slam in her neighbour's driveway. oh good, jake was home. she tried not to let her eyes wander, waiting with bated breath for what the mechanic was going to say next.

"the front bumper was totally smashed, caved in where you hit the trailer hitch. the hood is also bent back a bit from impact. the good news is that the airbags didn't go off, which means your car can be fixed. the bad news is that it's going to cost more than your car is worth."

she could feel her headache coming back, her legs beginning to feel weak. she knew her car wasn't worth much due to it's age. but the city didn't pay her enough for her to be able to take on the payment for a new car outright, even if she was buying used.

she felt unsteady, and her body was starting to list to one side as two strong arms picked her up.

"i've got you, just keep breathing." the smell of cologne was overwhelming. there was no way in fuck that was rick, and it wasn't the mechanic.

she'd know that texan drawl anywhere. and that meant that right now, she was in navy pilot jake seresin's arms.

and that idea made her feel a little more faint that normal.

jake seresin had lived in that neighbourhood longer than her. she'd moved into her rental house just over four years ago, and he'd bene there on viewing day in a tight white tank top and jeans, getting all sudsy as he washed his silverado in the driveway. she couldn't resist watching from the window as he got into his truck in full navy fatigues before he went to work, or when he worked out shirtless on his front lawn since the porch took up most of the back.

she cleared her throat. "can i get an estimate for the repairs? will it cost less than buying a whole new car?"

the mechanic sighed. "look, even at randy's mates rate, it would still be more advisable to buy something new. go to a dealership and look at the preowned lot, anything less than 20k will serve you a lot better than getting this car fixed up would."

she couldn't form words, mind going fuzzy from the feeling of jakes hand on her lower back, and the thought of going back inside and facing the ghosts again.

"thanks, man. she can't drive for a few days anyway," jake started "but i'll bring her to the car lot when she's better and help her find something nicer."

jake helped her back inside, where the ghosts were watching giddily with their heads through the kitchen wall.

"you didn't have to do that." she insisted, avoiding eye contact with sister katherine while she spoke to jake. "i really can't afford a new car."

she could hear sister katherine in the background, whispering to rick. he's a hot one, and a real gentleman too!

"but you can't drive that one either. it's almost twenty years old, yn." jack frowned. "treat yourself. finance if you have to. take the scrap money and run, that's what i would do. you think the navy pays me well either?"

she fought the urge to bury her head in her hands and slump down on the table. "can you drive me to my follow up at the end of the week? he just wants to make sure there's no brain damage. i was going to get detective disher to do it, but if you have the morning off its less hassle."

jake looked puzzled. "why would you want me to do it instead of your boyfriend? shouldn't that be his job?"

"why the fuck does everybody think i'm hooking up with randy?" she shouted. "jesus, jake. he's my fucking boss."

the pilot's face was red as he carded his fingers through his hair. "he just seems to be over here a lot. he drove you home from the hospital last night and i just assumed."

"he's over here a lot because his girlfriend threw him out so sometimes i let him sleep on the daybed in my spare room while he finds a new place. we've been friends for years, we were at the academy together. i could be where he is if i wasn't too chickenshit to go into the field."

jake paused for effect. "well, this is awkward. are you sure you never thought about it."

despite herself, yn laughed. "we hooked up once back at the academy. we were sooo not compatible."

"i fucking knew it!" she heard rick shout in the background. "men and women can't just be friends!"

"richard!" sister katherine cut him off. "let the girl speak and mind your own business."

"lucky for you," jake grinned, totally unaware of the ghosts arguing behind him, every syllable of their argument making yn cringe inside "i happen to have the day off on friday. i'll take you to the doctors, and if everything is good, we can go to the car lot where i bought my truck. the guy will give you a good deal."

"i want a volkswagen. that's non-negotiable." she warned.

"that's fine. we can even stop by the garage and pick up your scrap money to put towards a deposit."

her chest felt tight with everything jake was offering to do for her. it was a slight anxiety, but a positive one. nerves that sprung to mind when she thought that maybe jake was offering to do all of these things for her because he wanted to be more than just her neighbour.

and as incredible as she knew it would feel to have a special place in jake seresin's heart, she'd been out of a relationship for so long that being in one again scared the ever-loving shit out of her.

true to his word, jake picked her up promptly at ten am the following morning. she had stressed about what to wear all morning, dodging criticisms about her outfit choice from sister katherine ('seriously, what on earth are they selling in the clothing shops these days? tops are supposed to go to the top of your jeans! what happened to dressing respectably?) and outdated sex tips from rick (which came with a knowledge of the ghost's kinks that she wished she could erase from her memory).

"just to be clear, you guys are bound to this house, right? you died here and now you can't leave?"

sister katherine nodded. "that is how being dead works, my love. we have to stay here while you go out gallivanting with your fancy man."

she stifled a laugh. "jake is not my fancy man. and neither is randy."

"whatever you say, cutie." rick winked. "and if you ever find yourself being undead in the walls of this house, give me a call and let me rock your world."

shaking her head with a laugh, she closed the front door behind her and headed over the grass to jake's house. he was waiting with two thermoses of hot chocolate and looked like he had just finished vacuuming the inside of his truck.

"good morning sunshine, let's go get you a clean bill of health!"

the wait to see the specialist was longer than the appointment. it lasted no longer than half an hour while the doctor took another brain scan and declared that there was absolutely nothing wrong with y/n aside from some superficial bruising to the skin on her forehead where she hit the steering wheel. jake insisted that her clean bill of health was worth celebrating, ushering her back into the truck and refusing to tell her where they were going.

"you know i'm a serving police officer, right? one call to captain stottlemeyer and there's a all points bulletin out on your truck."

jake laughed heartily. "i'm not kidnapping you, sweets. damn, you really don't like surprises."

"can't say i'm a fan."

minutes later, jake pulled off a secluded country road and into a parking lot lined in mulch. for a place that was so out of the way, the parking lot was packed to the brim and jake had to park the silverado what felt like miles away from the building itself. like a true gentleman, he helped her down from the truck's cab, one hand on the small of her back as they walked towards the large country store.

"a farmers market?" she giggled. "big bad hangman frequents farmer's markets?"

"how do you know my call sign?"

"you have it written on a metal sign in your garage."

jake winked at her, opening the heavy glass door. the country store was in a large refurbished barn, with the hayloft having been fully converted into a small cafe. his hand was warm through her cinnamon colored t-shirt as jake guided her towards the stairs to the cafe.

"do you like cinnamon buns?"

"of course i like cinnamon buns. who do you take me for?"

laughing to himself, jake had a large smile on his tanned face as he guided her towards a window seat. "make yourself comfy, sugar. i'll be right back."

she hated to see jake seresin leave, but she loved to watch him go, shamelessly watching the rippling muscles underneath his tight levis jeans.

he came back a few minutes later, two white china plates in hand, each one with a steaming warm cinnamon bun on top. as he passed her a plate, the cowboy made the bold claim that these were the best cinnamon buns in san francisco.

"i'll be the judge of that." yn said with a laugh, trying to pick up the sticky pastry in her hands in the most dainty way possible. the buns were large, mostly taking up the small plate.

"need a knife for that, sarge?"

"shut up, hangman."

"you know i outrank you, right?" jake joked, a sly look in his eyes.

she stuck her tongue out at the pilot, wishing she had a third hand so she could give him the finger. "bite me."

"all in due time, sugar."

she tried to hide the blush taking over her face, busying herself with taking the first bite of her pastry while she tried to ignore the images that jake's comment had conjured in her mind.

of course, the moan that she let out upon tasting the pastry did nothing to ease the sinful thoughts creeping into her mind. she could tell jake noticed, his breath momentarily catching in his throat despite the smile never breaking on his face.

"am i right or am i right?"

"fine." she playfully rolled her eyes. "you were beyond right. these are incredible!"

she beamed over at jake, wiping up some of the warm glaze on her chin that hadn't fully dried before she'd taken a bite. he was sitting across from her at the small table, and had yet to touch his cinnamon roll.

"you've got a little something..." he started, reaching a warm hand over the table to brush against her lips, wiping up some cinnamon that had been left behind.

her breath caught at the action, her eyes catching jake's blue ones. he truly was a beautiful man. time seemed to slow, jake's eyes slowly moving from her own to her lips and then back up again, her cheeks heating under his gaze.

"yn, can i kiss you?"

"yes."

he leaned over the table, gently rising from his wooden chair as he pressed his lips against hers. he was soft at first, almost apprehensive until she gripped his wrist where he was caressing her face, tilting her head back to give him a better angle and kiss him harder.

kissing jake seresin was everything she'd wanted it to be and more. if this was a movie, there would be fireworks going off behind them, and a sappy pop rock ballad playing as background music. perhaps something by lifehouse or matchbox twenty.

her lips felt sticky as jake pulled away, a goofy smile on both of their faces.

"you haven't touched your pastry." she said shyly.

jake grinned. "that's because you taste a lot nicer."

they stopped at the dealership on the way back, after having picked up the scrap money. yn test drove a volkswagen, fairly new with few miles on it. she decided to make it a point to come back within the end of the weekend, having already fallen in love with the little car. she felt like was, for lack of better words, walking on sunshine as jake pulled into his driveway, one of his large hands resting comfortably on her thigh.

he helped her down, looking forlornly over to her house, almost as if he'd enjoyed himself and didn't want the night to end.

"i have to go into work early tomorrow, and you've probabaly got heaps of work to do as well, so i'll let you get back to it." jake sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. "but, if you're up for it, i can stop by tomorrow and make you something for dinner?"

she smiled up at him, reaching to take his free hand in hers. "i'd love that." remembering her ghostly guests, she hesitated. "but maybe we could do it at your house instead?"

"i would like nothing more, sarge."

"good." she pressed up onto her tiptoes, kissing jake softly.

his hand snaked around her waist, slipping into the back pocket of her jeans as he deepened the kiss. she hummed contentedly, gently stroking his face with her thumb, hand resting on his cheek.

"i can't wait." she winked at him before she cut across her front lawn, backing towards her property. her southern gentlemen saluted her as she unlocked her front door, slipping inside the foyer.

"soooooooo." rick's familiar english drawl began. "how did things go with john wayne over there?"

and despite herself, yn was very much looking forward to sharing details of her budding romance with rick and sister katherine.

things were coming up roses for sargeant yn yln, and she was so excited to see what the future had in store.

#the cozy collection 2024 #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick x reader #top gun x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake seresin imagine #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fic

181 notes · View notes

hamiltonaf · 11 months ago

Note

Can you do one with Kylian being very jealous of yn all the time and every time she talks to a guy friend he gets mad and makes a big fuss about it and yn gets tired of him and wants to leave him but then he gets upset and begs for forgiveness but she is so tired of his bullshit and want to take a break from the relationship but after 1-2 months they get back together and he got jealous again so she wants to know why he is like that and it turned out that his ex girlfriend cheated on him multiple times so he had trust issues and she assured him that she wasn’t going to do the same thing

Trust Issues | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Minor angst

A/N: Hii loves ! I’m finally back. Apologies for being MIA, I had a lot going on, plus I had writers block. I’m sorry in advance if the end is disappointing - I honestly feel like I forgot how to write lol. If you’ve sent a request before, please note that I’m working on it. Anywho, enjoy .xoxo

Never thought I’d come to a point in life where I had to cut off all my guy friends for Kylian’s sake. I’ve told myself in the past that if I had to face that in a relationship then I’m walking out. Mentally I’m playing hangman with Kylian’s name.

I love Kylian, I really do, it’s also cute at times to see him get jealous but when it comes to a point when he tells me that I need to stop talking to my guy friend then I don’t vibe with that. He’s basically saying that he doesn’t trust me.

We’ve fought, he apologised, I looked past it for us to move on, but he just crossed the line.

I went out for a friend’s birthday dinner, Kylian decided to stay back and chill at home, though he promised he would pick me up after. The birthday dinner felt like a reunion as some of us were seeing each other after years, it was great catching up with everyone, especially Daniel. Him and I were really close growing up as our parents were good friends, but since I moved and was with Kylian I rarely attended gatherings.

It was getting quite late and Kylian was delayed, I didn’t bother rushing him since Daniel was accompanying me and we were just catching up on lost time. We were stood outside the restaurant, dinner had just ended, some had left and others were in their own conversations. “So how are things going? What have you been up to ?” Daniel eagerly asked. “Well, I’m in my final year of studying so it’s been a bit much but I’m coping. How are things going for you ?” I replied. “Life is great. Can’t complain” he smiled proudly. “Still running your parent’s empire I suppose” I smiled. “Nothing has changed” he grinned.

“Good for you Dan. You’re living the dream” I half laughed. “I’m living the dream ?” He scoffed. “Yeah of course ! You’re travelling literally every other month, flying first class and living the good life” I said. “Yeah but you’re the one dating the football player !” He stated. “Speaking of him, let me just check how far he is” I paused to check my phone if perhaps Kylian called or messaged. Nothing.

Just as I locked my phone, my head turned when I heard a car rev in the distance, he’s here. “Oh look. There he is” I said as both of our heads snapped to Kylian pulling up beside us. Daniel leaned towards the car as Kylian rolled down the window, “Hey man, I’m Daniel” he introduced himself. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kylian” Kylian shook his hand. “Heard a lot about you. We should meet up soon, I’ll message (Y/N)” Daniel suggested. “Yeah sure” Kylian said lastly. “Take care bro” Daniel said before pulling me in for a hug. “Bye Dan. Until next time” I murmured. “Until then. Ciao” he said as his hand rubbed my back before breaking away from our hug.

I got into the car and immediately I could feel the tension in the air. “Hi baby” I smiled as I leaned in to kiss his cheek. He didn’t say anything or react, he just remained stiff. I knew what was coming and I wasn’t ready to face the drama for the umpteenth time. Choosing not to say anything in the car until we got home was the best decision. The second the door shut, he didn’t surprised me by being the one to bring it up. “What was that ?” He raised his voice. “What was what ?” I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Who even was that Daniel guy ? I was there for only a minute and I could see the way he was looking at you. You both seemed to enjoy that hug a little too much” he said. I scoffed, “Are you being serious right now ?”

“Do I look like I’m joking ?” He yelled annoyed. “You have honestly lost it !” I yelled as I turned my back on him and stormed towards our room. “(Y/N) I’m talking to you !” He yelled for me as he followed me to the room. “How the hell can you say we enjoyed that hug a little too much. Are you trying to call me a cheater ?” I raised my voice as I turned around to face him. “You’re just putting words into my mouth. My point is that if another person had seen you both together, they would think you’re a couple. I don’t want you seeing him again” he said.

“You know what Kylian ? I’m done” I huffed. “What do you mean done ?” He asked baffled. “I mean that I can’t do this anymore. I can’t continue being in a relationship where my own boyfriend doesn’t even trust me or allows me to talk to other guy friends of mine without assuming I’m cheating. I’m living a lie by staying in this relationship. Go find yourself a girlfriend that you can control because I’m not that girl” I said before getting a bag and packing it with my belongings.

“Babe please don’t do this. I swear I’m not trying to control you. I’ll admit that I got jealous, okay ? But please don’t go. I love you so much, what will I do without you ?” he pleaded and tried to stop me from packing but I continued.

“No Kylian ! Today you literally crossed the line, I couldn’t care so much for the other guys you said I need to stop talking to, but the fact that Daniel and I go way back and now you want me to cut off our friendship ? He’s basically apart of my family because his parents and my parents are friends. Kylian…I’m so tired honestly of us going back and forth. It just bothers me that Daniel attempted to be your friend in that minute you met but instead you ignore all of that and insinuate that I cheated ? Get some help because I need a break from your shit…this has gone past jealousy” I said in anger, I didn’t have it in me to cry.

“(Y/N) please. I’ll change okay ? I’ll do better. But please don’t go. Please give me another chance” he begged. “Kylian I gave you way too many chances. I can’t believe how long I’ve dealt with this and didn’t leave sooner” I said as I zipped up my bag. “So that’s it ? You’re just going to throw away a 2 year relationship ?” He asked. “All I know right now is that we need space away from each other. I love you Kylian, I do, but I think it’s best for the both of us” I pressed my lips together as I threw my bag over my shoulder. “So we’re over ?” He asked teary eyed. “I- please don’t make this harder than it already is” my voice cracked as I looked up in hopes that my tears would disappear.

“Babe you can’t give up on us. We’re meant for each other” he said as he grabbed my hands and rubbed small circles at the back of them. “Kylian, consider this a break rather than a break up. We can both wisely use this time to focus on ourselves…if we’re meant to be, we’ll find our way back to each other.”

Those were the last words I’ve said to him face-to-face. I left that night and ended up staying at my parent’s house. They were surprised to see me and were quick to ask where Kylian was, I just lied that he’s travelling for an away game. 2 weeks of staying with my parents raised suspicion and they figured out that something was wrong, my mom especially. I told my mom exactly what happened and luckily she took the hint to not talk about it.

Not a day passed that I didn’t receive a message from Kylian. Countless ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’ flooded my phone daily, it wasn’t easy taking this time to focus on myself when he was on my mind all day. Whilst making his message clear, he indirectly would ask for us to talk it out and as much as it hurts, I refused. No point in us getting back together if he’s going to go back to square one.

After about a week, I caved in and started replying back to his messages. Eventually easing in to phone calls and FaceTimes. It’s been 3 weeks since that day I called on a break, today I decided it’s time to meet and talk things out.

He seemed sincere and genuine when we met, of course I couldn’t help but give him another chance. We were meeting for one week as if we were in love all over again and after that one week, we’re back together.

Daniel was in town and he wanted to meet up, I happily accepted his lunch invite and was looking forward to rekindling our friendship. Kylian was at training so I thought I’d get ready in the meantime until he was back.

“Ma chérie !” He called as he entered. “In the room, Ky !” I yelled. He came into the room and whistled behind me. “You look beautiful” he said as he placed a kiss on my neck. “Thank you babe” I blushed. “Where are you going ?” He asked as he walked over to sit at the edge of the bed. “I’m going out for lunch with Daniel” I said casually. “Wait, what !” He asked as he stood up. “Why ? I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t see him ?” He said as he changed his tone. I dropped my mascara on the counter and stood up, “Are you back to this nonsense where I can’t have guy friends ?” I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Do you not know how the story goes about childhood guy friends falling for their girl friends ?” He stood up to stand arms length away from me. “No, Kylian ! That’s not how the story goes. Do you not know it takes two people to be in love which hello ? I’m obviously not.” I said as I started to grow angry. “(Y/N), you don’t know how a guys mind works” he said as he shut his eyes for a second. “Before I walk out of this relationship one more time, could you care to explain your reasoning behind why I can’t have guy friends ?” I raised a brow. His face softened when he heard me mention walking out.

“Babe please no . I’m sorry” he rushed over to me to hold my hands in his. I pulled my hands away from his grip, “Explain Kylian…I can’t continue entertaining this.” He sighed and dropped his head before mustering up the courage. “I have trust issues because of my ex” he admitted. I was shocked. “Well, what happened ?” I asked curiously.

“I trusted her and was never one to question anything she did until I found out she cheated on me with those guys she called her friends. Soo…I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions and assuming the worst, I was heartbroken and felt betrayed. It’s been hard for me to accept having trust. It’s not you babe, I promise I trust you, I just fear that your guy friends will convince you to leave me and walk away from our relationship. I can’t bare losing you, not again after the break” he said as he got emo. “Aww Ky” I pouted as I pulled him in for a hug. We never left each others embrace for a few minutes until Kylian broke away to kiss my forehead.

“I’m glad I got that off my chest. You deserved to know. I love you so much and I’m sorry for my behaviour. I’m trying to be a better boyfriend for you after our break so please be patient with me” he pouted. “I get it now. Thank you for being honest babe” I gave him a quick peck on his lips. “You can go out with Daniel, I won’t stop you any longer” he sighed. “Look, as your girlfriend, I want to help you through this. Remember Daniel suggested you guys going out ? Well why don’t you join us, I’ll send him a message and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. That way you have an idea of what Daniel is like and you have a peace of mind. Also, it’s not just about trusting Daniel, I would like if you and Daniel could be friends. I mean the man is practically family” I half laughed before sending a message to Daniel. “Shame I feel bad now for hating on the guy” he sighed. “Well what he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him” I winked then sent the message.

325 notes · View notes

call-sign-shark · 2 years ago

Text

✨Bleeding Knuckles ✨

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x YN "Fire" Gibbs

Summary: Rooster meets Gibbs' daughter at the boxing gym. She's ferocious, strong and she's a boxer, but she is in pain. And Rooster relates to it. Now he is here, and he won't let anything hurt you anymore., not even yourself.

Words: 940 (Blurb - Boxer!Reader and NCIS crossover)

Pls reblog if you like the idea, so that I know if ppl wants to know the whole angsty but fluff story behind my idea

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

It all started with Bradley counting every time it hurt. This is what Carole had taught her son to help him cope with life's disillusion. Grievance, anger, mourning... Bradley had experienced them all, and they all left a scar deep within his soul. This is why he had started boxing - to evacuate all the negative and brutal turmoil his soul was undergoing. Since then, he kept boxing as a tradition but also as a way to work out during his free time. For sure, he worked a lot and could not go to the boxing gym as much as he wanted, but today Maverick granted him a leave. After weeks of harsh training, Rooster could relieve the stress that had accumulated within. Each blow against the punching bag felt like a sweet release.

One punch for the excruciating training.

One punch for Hangman, just because he is a dick.

One punch for his ex, who had just broken up with him weeks ago.

He was about to throw another punch at the poor hanging bag when the sound of a girl grunting in pain snapped him out of his thought. Rooster stopped and swept the room with his warm hazel eyes. There he saw her ... It was Leroy Gibbs' daughter - oh, he had only caught sight of her once, but he had found her so attractive that he could not forget her beautiful face.

The girl was hitting her punching ball as if her life depended on it. She was staring at it, her brows frowned, and her wet, shining lips were curled up as a wild feline hissing at his enemy. She threw a brutal punch, so brutal that the chain from which the punching bag was hanging produced a loud jiggling sound. No one quite noticed her, for the place was almost empty and the few men training here were packed together at the weight section, at the other end of the gym. Rooster took off his thick red boxing gloves, far too busy observing her to keep it up with his training. He ran one of his hands through his sweaty blonde curls, some of them sticking to his temples and forehead.

"Fuuuuuuck you!"

You growled, louder. The violence with which your first hit the bag was so ferocious that the skin on your knuckles -already damaged by one full hour of enraged boxing- broke open. Bradley thought you would stop beating that poor punching bag now that you wounded yourself, but you kept hitting it again and again. Blinded by a destructive rage, your body seemed desensitized to pain. Self-control broke down, you were a wild fire.

If at first the pilot had been intrigued and amused by your determination, he grew worried. Rooster easily recognized the sparkle of hatred that was shining in your teary and infuriated eyes, for he had the same look years ago. He clenched his jaw as he noticed you smearing your blood all over the punching ball with your wounded knuckles - he was torn between conflicting feelings. Somehow, your problems were your business, not his. His life was already busy enough and, to be true, he had his own mishaps to deal with. But, his inner voice reminded him of the time he had been like her - lost, filled with rage and sadness. He would have loved someone to take care of him. Or just someone to tell him that everything will be fine, at least. Rooster sighed and walked towards you.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

You hissed through your teeth. Sweat burning your eyes, blood dripping from your hands, you growled again and punched the bag with all your remaining strength, the movement directly coming from your whole shoulder. Yet, your knuckles never met the smooth surface of the bag, for someone had grabbed your elbow and forced you to stop. Surprised, you turned and glared at the man who was holding your arm firmly.

"Hey, calm down girl." Bradley's deep voice was candy-coated with an indescribable softness. It was the first pet name that came to his head

"Leave me alone!" You hissed again, showing your teeth.

"I know you are angry but you are bleeding."

His words pulled you out of your blinding hatred. You blinked several times, chasing away the beads of sweat that had formed on your eyelashes. Then, your eyes looked where Rooster's irises of honey pools were staring at. Red and warm blood was oozing from slits on each of your knuckles. As soon as your brain realized it was your hand, an unpleasant tingling pain blossomed at their spot. You winced, then looked at the tall blonde and curly man that was in front of you. Rooster gently released your arm.

"Nevermind." You chased away his hand with a hasty movement and turned around, back to him. You really did not want to talk at the moment.

Rooster hesitated: should he leave you? He shook his head. Something had attracted him, something that he had seen in your eyes. Your pain and his were similar. This sole observation was enough to convince him he was taking the right decision. No matter what happened, he would be there for you.

"Are you sure you're good?"

Six words.

One deep yet caring voice.

It was all it took for tears of anger to overflow.

Rooster gently pressed one of his large, warm, and calloused hands on your shoulder. Looking at you with concern, the pilot's fingers closed around your clavicle to anchor his presence. He was there, and he wanted you to feel it.

"There, it's okay."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Don't ask me what I'm doing. Can't be productive today so I wanted to write a little blurb with reader as an angry brawler girl, a good boxer, and Gibb's daughter.

#rooster x reader #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick imagine #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #Bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #top gun x reader #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic #rooster fanfic

158 notes · View notes

jake-seresin · 2 years ago

Text

ahhhhh your honor I love him!!! screaming into my pillow rn because I loved how much of a softie he is in this!!

CWJBHN aka All That Jake Wants

Can we just be happy now? - Jake Scott, Josie Dunne

Summary Jake tries to help you see that you guys can be more than childhood best friends, even if it scares you

Pairing Jake Seresin x childhood best friend!reader

Theme fluff, slight angst in between

Warnings relationship/commitment anxieties, military relationship

Word Count 1.5k

Note Really wanted to try writing something from his POV, so this took awhile to figure out!!! I've been in love with this song since it came out. MAJOR coincidence that the artist's name just so happened to be Jake, but I thought this song fit him really well. And since the song this fic is based on is a duet, I'm thinking of releasing a version from reader's POV, so let me know in the comments if you'd want to read it!

Playlist

If you enjoyed this, please reblog! Reblogs are the best way to support creators (writers, artists, gif makers, everyone!) on this platform. Share the content, share the love!

“Quit it.”

“Quit what?”

“That.”

Jake couldn’t help it. He wasn’t even doing anything except looking at you from the passenger seat. But with the way you stole glances back at him—that playful look in your eyes as you tried and failed to hide your smile, he knew you didn’t mind at all.

“What do you mean? I’m just a mere passenger observing his surroundings, and I just so happen to be surrounded by…”

Ahead of him was a nearly clear sky, with few clouds above still from the afternoon rain. He looked to his right and and saw nothing but sea and sky. And as he turned to his left, he saw…

“…you.”

As cheesy as it sounded, he wasn’t entirely wrong; there really wasn’t much around you guys. But he knew what he meant. And by the way he saw you blush again, he knew you knew it, too. He cleared his throat to clear the lingering tension. “Where are you taking me, anyway?”

“Seriously? You don’t recognize this place?” you mused.

Finally taking his eyes off of you, he looked around and realized your destination. The light drizzle stopped just as you pulled over at the edge of a cliff, the exact cliff you had taken him so many times the last time he visited and stayed with you all those years ago after his first deployment.

It was about a month or so after he returned to the States. He blocked out two whole weeks to visit you in your new city—LA, of all places, so different from your mid-sized town in Texas, but he always knew since you were kids that you were meant for bigger things. This cliff was apparently your favorite place in the area, since you rushed him here instead of to your apartment where he could settle down, and the two of you spent hours on hours catching up. His two-week visit turned into one month, and hardly a day and an adventure passed by that you guys didn’t end up here.

And here you both were again nearly a decade later. Things picked up exactly where they left off, except this trip meant something more. He’s gone too long without you, and he was set on changing that. And with how the last couple of months went, things were almost falling into place.

Almost.

“You really didn’t think you’d leave again without one last hurrah, ‘Res?” you teased. His high school nickname never sounded sweeter, he thought.

The two of you had gotten out to stretch your legs. He took off his jacket to wipe down the remaining droplets on the hood of the car, making a place for the two of you to lean on as you admired the ocean view—a view he could honestly care less about when you were right there beside him. But still, he looked around trying to remember every detail he could.

“Man, I sure am gonna miss this,” he sighed.

“You’re going to get views like this everyday, even better ones. I’m kinda jealous.”

He scooted closer to you till your arms touched. “Yeah, but it’s not gonna be the same.”

“How so?” you asked, leaning into him.

He laced his fingers through yours, playing with it for awhile as you waited for an answer. He looked in your eyes before turning back to the ocean. “For one, I won’t have my burger fix while enjoying the view—”

Laughter immediately flew from your lips as you let go of his hand to elbow him in the side. He flashed his pearly whites at his own corny joke, always taking pride in being the only person to get that kind of laughter out of you. “If only there was a McDonald’s in the sky.”

“A fly-thru,” you played along, “Give it a few fifty years or so. You’ll be their very first customer.”

“Hell yeah, bring back taste to plane food.”

That one moment of normalcy ended as your laughs did. He doesn’t know how, but his hands found yours once again. “But seriously, Y/N, I don’t think I could look at that again without thinking about you,” he said, gesturing to the view in front of you.

“Jake…” you sighed and shied away from him. He lifted himself from the car and stood in front of you, one hand caressing your cheek, the other tucking your hair behind your ear.

This whole trip, he’s dropped little compliments and gestures implying something more. It started out light and playful; he didn’t want to overwhelm you right away. At times, you even reciprocated it. But time was running out; all he needed to know was that you felt something too.

“I know I should have said something sooner. But that’s what I’m doing now, and I’m not going to let another ten or twenty years go by without finally letting you know how I feel,” he confessed softly. He tucked his hand under your chin. “I’ll understand if this isn’t something you want, but give me one good reason why this wouldn’t work.”

The silence spoke for itself the longer you took trying to come up with an answer. He closed the distance between you even more, and when he wasn’t met with any resistance, he rested his forehead on yours. But he could still sense the tension in you.

“If we do this, you leave in two days. Then you’ll be gone for what, six, seven months? Maybe even longer? I don’t know if I can handle that,” you whispered.

“We’ve gone without each other for much longer,” he said.

“But that was different—this is different.” Tears welled up in your eyes. “I don’t wanna lose you, Jake.”

His heart ached to see you like this. Worry washed over him as he wiped away the tears that had fallen from your eyes. “You’re not gonna lose me, darlin’, I promise.”

“You don’t know that,” you argued back, “what if long distance doesn’t work? What if we do this and realize that we’re better off not being together? Things aren’t going to go back to normal. And you know my track record with relationships, Jake. I don’t wanna give you a reason to resent me if this goes badly. Or worse, something could happen to you out there and I’d never see you again.”

It was that last thing that drew a sharp breath in him. No matter how good he knew he was at his job, the realities of it was something he couldn’t escape. To subject you to that…

No.

He couldn’t afford to think about that right now.

His mission right now was to be with you, no matter how little time he got, and he’d be damned if he didn’t get to make the most of it.

If there was anything he learned about being a navy pilot, it’s to take your shot when you see it. He’s prepared if he misses, but it was better to take a missed shot than none at all, right? Now that both of you laid out your feelings on the table, there was no point in turning back.

He wrapped his arms around and pulled you against him, closing whatever little distance there was left between you. He placed his a kiss on your forehead, his lips soft enough to comfort you, but the kiss itself firm enough to assure you. You buried your head further into his chest as he stroked your hair.

He could have stayed with you like that forever, but the sun had almost started to set; the clock seemed to tick faster and faster.

He had to set things right.

Pulling away, he looked down at you, your eyes still glassy with uncertainty. “Look. I’m not gonna pretend that anything you said is impossible. But isn’t that all the more reason to try? To see if we can beat the odds? It’s not even an ‘if’ for me, Y/N. I know we can. With everything we’ve gone through together, how could we not?”

He watched as you struggled to form a reply, so he continued.

“If it’s the future that’s scaring you, then let’s not think about that now, if that’s what you want,” he assured you, still holding you gently. “We have 48 hours left together, and I don’t want to waste it. That’s 48 hours to just be…”

He wracked his brain, struggling to find the right words.

“That’s 48 hours to be happy. Can we—can we do that? Just be happy, right here, right now?”

His eyes pleaded for an answer. “Well, ‘Res,” you nodded softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “when you put it that way, how can I say no?”

Finally.

Relief didn’t even have time to wash over Jake’s face as he kissed you the moment those words left your mouth. He’s dreamt of this moment for years, but none of those dreams measured up to the real thing. It’s like he knew you both fit like puzzle pieces, your bodies molded together the deeper you kissed.

And that’s how both of you stayed, never letting go of each other as you watched the sun set over the horizon.

It was 48 hours well spent. Tears were inevitably shed as time ran out, but Jake was all smiles even as he departed. Sure, he was more than sad to go, but at least he knew this time—and for the rest of time—that his happiness didn’t have to end.

Disclaimer I do not own Top Gun: Maverick or any of its characters. I do not own CWJBHN by Jake Scott and Josie Dunne. Please do not copy my work or translate without my permission.

Edited tagline and layout

323 notes · View notes

flames-f1 · 2 years ago

Text

I have to get home to them

pairing- Fem!Phoenix's sister!Reader x Hangman.

Scenario- YN Trace gets hit by the S.A.M's instead of Mav. The plane is on fire and she gets badly burnt. To the point she is dying. The enemy find her before she could turn on her tracker. As they were taking her to where she was going to be beaten until she gave up valuable information she turned on her tracker. Now it's up to the daggers and Hangman to find her before it's to late.

TW- Blood, Burns, Angst, Guns, language and Fluff at the end

YN's callsign is: Flames.

○○○○○○○○○○♡○○○○○○○○○○

YN's POV

I was hit and falling out of the sky. I could hear Rooster and my sister calling my name but it didn't register in my mind. My fingers where numb from where they had been burnt from the fire. I fumbled for the ejection and pulled. And that's the last thing I remember. The snow felt soothing on my burnt skin. It was only an amount of time before either the daggers or the enemy find me. I can't muster up enough strength to turn on my tracker. I could hear the low buzz of a chopper. And then it landing. My guess it was the people I wasn't hoping to see and I was correct. The man who came over spat in my face and grabbed me by my arm. I screamed out in pain. 'Shut the fuck up you little weak bitch!' I was sobbing at this point. He had grabbed my burnt arm. My other one was draped over my shoulder that had the tracker on. My fingers started to grasp at it. I grabbed it and hear the click as it gave off my signal.

○○○○○○○○○○♡○○○○○○○○○○

HANGMAN'S POV

'GUY'S Y....FLAMES' SIGNALS UP!!!! SHE'S ALIVE!' I screamed through the whole carrier. I was just about to hop out of my jet when I heard the ping of her tracker. I got back in and saw her callsign come up on my screen. 'Holy Shit' Rooster called out. I could hear the footsteps of the rest of the dagger squad. 'Hangman? Is it true? Is YN alive?' Pheonix asked. I could hear the worry in her voice and it sounds like she has been crying. She has just lost her sister. Bob came round the corner and hugged Pheonix so tight she looked like she couldn't breathe. But she needed it. 'Yeah we need to get to her and fast. We don't know how long Y/N will last.' Everyone froze. 'Hangman! You just used her real name!' Rooster shouted at me. Shit. We have a rule in the squad. If we use someone's actual name and not their callsign they have to confess to their crush. That's how Pheonix and Bob got together and Ice and Mav got together. 'Let's save her and I'll tell her then.' Right now the only thing on my mind was Flames. I couldn't lose her.

○○○○○○○○○○♡○○○○○○○○○○

YN'S POV

He had gotten me into the chopper and told the pilot to take off but he refused. The next thing I knew the pilot was sh0t dead. 'Holy shit. You fucking killed him!' 'Yeah and if you don't shut the fuck up that'll be you next!' I was holding my breath at this point. I was on the verge of having a panic attack. Shit no this can't be happening. I start to hyperventilate and my vision became blurry. I was on the verge of passing out when he realised that I was going to pass out he stared laughing at me calling me weak and other things. By the time I woke up from passing out I was in the snow again. That bastard. I guess he realised that I was weak and he wasn't getting any information out of me.

○○○○○○○○○○♡○○○○○○○○○○

HANGMAN'S POV

I was flying over where Rooster said he saw her jet go down. I was just hoping to find her. Then I saw it the glimpse of red and kaki in the ocean of white. 'Its her! I found her!' I need to find where to land though. I found a clearing that was all but 20ft away from her. I jumped out of my jet and sprinted towards her. 'Y.... YN?! You okay?' I called out to her. 'J... Jake is that you?' She whimpered.

○○○○○○○○○○♡○○○○○○○○○○

YN'S POV

'J... Jake is that you?' I whimpered. 'Yeah, Flames it's me. How are ya' he said in that southern tone of his. 'Shit but I guess ya can see that hey?' He laughed and I fucking melted. Wait I said his first name. 'YN there's something I need to tell you. I love you.' I stopped breathing. I started to cry. 'Shit. Flames are you, okay I'm sorry to dump all of this on you.' He looked like he was about to cry. 'Hey, Jake it's okay. I'm fine. I'm not crying because you told me that you love me because I love you too. It's just my fucking burns.' I kissed his cheek. Jake was gentle with me. 'Alright YN. I'm gonna move ya. Okay?' He whispered quietly in my ear. 'Okay, Jake. Just please be careful?' 'Always am sweetheart'. The pet name made me shiver. I cried out as Jake lifted me off of the ground. 'Shhhh sweetheart I know it hurts. it will do until we get them treated.' he cooed into my ear. he placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. I leaned into his embrace and passed out for the 3rd time today

○○○○○○○○○○♡○○○○○○○○○○

HANGMAN'S POV

When we reached my jet Pheonix had landed her jet next to mine. she helped me lift her sister into my jet and before I jumped in, Pheonix grabbed me by the wrist. 'Jake, wait! Is she alive?' she called over the roar of her jet engine. 'Yeah 'nix she's fine I promise. she passed out on the way to the jet but she's fine. she's got second maybe third-degree burns in some places. her fingers and arms got the full force of the flames.' Pheonix looked as if she was gonna start to sob. I pulled her into a hug. 'Shhh. hey, nix it's okay she's gonna be fine.' She pulled away and nodded a silent thanks. I nodded back and hopped into my jet. 'Hey YN you ready we are gonna take off after your sister.' I put YN's helmet back on her head the little image of a Flame and a Pheonix sitting proudly on her head. She and nix had designed them together. It was cute looking at the close bond she and her sister had. They told each other practically anything. YN moaned a little ouch as the jet took off. I could hear phoenix trying to comfort her along with her WSO bob. I can't believe she came on this suicide mission just to save her sister. We landed back on the carrier and I lifted YN down from my jet. I sprinted to the hospital on deck and they treated her almost instantly. 'Mr Seresin, your lucky. Miss Trace only got mild second-degree burns. She will wake up soon if not tonight tomorrow morning at the most.' The nurse came into the 'waiting room'. I nodded to her, to tell her that I understood.

○○○○○○○○○○♡○○○○○○○○○○

AN: hey y'all my first kinda story on Tumblr. I will make a part two when I have ideas. I have a lot on my plate with a member of my family passing. So I will write more because I am also on half term so yay bonus

love y'all

Flames🔥:3

1 note · View note

strangerstuffandthingsimagines · 2 years ago

Text

The Gallows (Hangman x Fem!reader)

Summary: They call you Angel, sometimes you wonder if “of death” was too long. When tasked to join the best of the best, you are forced to confront your past.

Warning’s: descriptions of injuries (reader is a medic), mentions of sexual content, semi-steamy?,cursing, mentions of sibling death, ptsd (the reader and Hangman both have shared trauma), alcohol consumption

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Call sign: Angel”

It sounded like a nails of a cat clinging to a chalkboard, slowly, painstakingly trailing down the black slate, dragging each syllable out like a taunt. An-gel.

The office felt stuffy, like one of those old silver-screen detective films your grandma would make you watch whenever you visited for Christmas, though there was nothing comforting or warm about it.

Vice Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson is across from you, flipping through your entire naval career in a package of papers. “Quite an impressive portfolio you have here.”

“Admiral Kazansky vouched quite heavily for you. I don’t know if that should delight or terrify me.” he sighs, scanning through the pages without so much as looking up at you. “You’ll be working under the command of Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, I’m sure you’ve heard about him.”

Slapping the folder down, Cyclone rises from his seat with the the sound of leather creasing and wheels rolling against the linoleum. “Follow me. I’ll take you to the debriefing room, maybe you’ll be good at keeping Maverick...grounded.”

Orientation never sat well with you. You stopped bothering to focus your vision on the pilots and WSO’s before you; To take in their faces or remember their names. It became a bad habit that morphed into second nature, instinctual to the very structure of your DNA. It was easier that way.

There was an eeriness to the echo of Maverick’s voice as it reverberated throughout the aircraft hangar, his eyes flickering to you for a moment.

“This mission will be physically demanding on your bodies and minds. That is why we have brought in Lt. y/n “Angel” y/l/n. One of the best flight surgeons the navy has to offer.” It’s all so formal that it feels forced. Undeserved. Unwarranted.

The walk from the entrance of the hangar, to where Captain Mitchell stood was gruelling. You pictured yourself being ushered to the gallows, or maybe a pyre like a witch, either way, both of those situations seemed more appealing than this.

“Thank you.” you saluted back - It was muscle memory at this point, not respect. “It an honour to work with you Capt. Mitchell.”

“We’re down three of our best today to G-tolerance training. Don’t worry, you’ll get well acquainted soon enough.” he grins, looking your way for a moment. He could practically feel the tension radiating off your body in a cold heat.

Orientation went by in a haze, you hadn’t paid much attention to the formalities and empty social interactions, not when everything in the very fabric of your being told you “No, you aren’t ready. Run. Run. Run.”

“Phoenix.” a firm, but eager hand reaches out to you, breaking your daze like a slap to the face. Your palm meets her’s and you think maybe, just maybe, you can do this. Maybe you can try.

Before you are even aware you’ve spoken, you agree to meet at the Hard Deck for drinks. Then you remember you haven’t touched booze since you got so drunk they had to pump your stomach. Then you remember why you had gotten so drunk in the first place. Then you kind of want to scream, and you kind of want to cry.

But you don’t. You never do.

~~~~~~~~

A stale breeze ocelots throughout the room as you lay in the dark, alone in a loose tee and your underwear. Giving a grunt, you roll onto your back and run a finger across the creases of your sheets, that imprinted into the flesh of your cheek, pondering how you might muster the strength to get up and dress for the bar tonight.

You move in thoughtless motion, tugging on the loose blue jeans that are too hot for California, and a white tee you’d probably stain at some point throughout the night. You take your time on the ride over, even the twinkling lights of gazebos and restaurant patio’s seem so bleak.

With a quick movement, you switch off the radio and settle for the sound of tires grinding against asphalt. Music wasn’t enjoyable anymore, not like it used to be, not when you were sixteen in your brothers jeep, cruising around with his best friend and it’s all so easy.

Your eyes felt painfully heavy, you almost feel stupid for getting behind the wheel. You want to give in and close your eyes, to just float and forget.

~~~~~~~~~

“There you are, fuck! We were about to send out a search party,” Phoenix laughs as she slides of the barstool with a rum and Coke in hand. It’s all so exhausting. Socializing, growing close - friends even, and then the inevitable doom of being disappointed.

“Hey.” You smile softly, suddenly feeling so small. The gazes of your new crew consumed you and you hold your breath. “Thank you for inviting me out, it’s nice to…”you wonder where exactly you were going with that sentence, then settle on sounding like a moron. “…get out.”

“No, thank you for being the one to lug one of our sorry asses out of the sea one of these days.” Laughs another, your eyes shift toward the name badge. Payback. “My bets on “ol Fanboy here.”

“You realize if she’s pulling my ass out of the water, you aren’t far behind.” Fanboy counters, elbowing his pilot in the ribs. “Right?”

“Hey Rooster!” Phoenix shouts over the loud chatter of the bar. “Come say hi to our new doc!”

You’d forgotten how ingrained peoples callsigns were into their identity. Land, sky, or sea, their callsign was more valuable then their real name. It hadn’t been quite as intense when you were working in the hospital, but they did exist.

“Hu-heyyy,” he drawls out, a little drunk already no doubt. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw him. It were as if the literal sun had been captured in his body, its light threatening to rip through the seams of his tacky Hawaiian shirt. “Nice to meet ya!”

He looked for your name tag, only to realize you had been the only one not in uniform. Civvies was a strict rule you had made for yourself, no matter how tired you were, you never wore your uniform off the base. Plain and simple.

You tell him your name, but he waits for the name that really counts. You clear your throat as you brace yourself with the back of a chair. “They call me Angel.”

“We gotta hear how you got that name.” Payback presses before taking a swig of beer. “I bet it’s one hell of a story.”

The politics of a call sign was just another example of military machismo. It made sense logically, why they were necessary but you had heard your fair share of awful ones to take them too seriously - T-bag, Tiny (last name Richard’s) and Hot crotch to name a few.

Truth is, Angel had been misogyny, thinly veiled as a joke. It’s such a clear memory, you remember it better than your cousin’s wedding that was only a few months ago. The men of the element you’d been assigned didn’t think of you as an equal, but a young, naive girl.

A pet name. A patronizing pet name, the very same ones women had become accustomed to since the dawn of time. When you were quiet, wide eyed and new, you were “princess”, “baby face”, “darling”, “sweet cheeks”, when you stood up for yourself, or commanded the way the others had, suddenly you were “woman”, “bitch” or reduced to just simply “female”.

Lieutenant James “Big Bird” Larson was the worst of them; his taunt’s never took a day off - you weren’t sure if he was capable of ever shutting the fuck up. It wasn’t until shrapnel blasted through his throat, slitting his carotid artery that he was quiet. The blood had spurted like an Italian fountain, the kind you would find in the romantic stretch of Venice that was riddled with wishes in the shape of coins. You had pinched the vein and listened to his gurgled prayers before his wound could be stabilized by back up medics on route.

They still called you Angel, but at least now they had a reason. At least it felt earned.

The comment lingers in the air, you avoid the bait like the plague before gladly taking the hard seltzer Phoenix handed your way. The burn made you cringe as it slithered down your throat like salt in a wound. The last time you’d drank alcohol also happened to be the first and last time you got wasted beyond comprehension.

“Well?” Urges fanboy - damn, so close - with a sigh you give in.

“This guy was bleeding out, so I was pinching off the gash. If I let go he would’ve died…so he said I was his guardian angel.” You over simplified as per usual. “Just medical shenanigans.”

“Dope shit right there.” Fanboy beamed, grateful it wasn’t ironic or an omen that your platoons didn’t have a high rate of survival.

Meandering chatter continued amongst your new comrades, your eyes flickering to the door here and there just to confirm you still had an exit. It felt…insincere. Somehow, you were doing them a disservice by pretending to be present.

You wanted to care about the light hearted jokes, the pool games, the songs they sung at the top of their lungs, but it felt physically impossible. So, alone you sat at the table, more focused on the tiny bubbles of your drink that float periodically to the surface, than joining their game of pool.

“Hangman! Coyote! Get over here so we can kick your ass at pool.” one of them shouts, it didn’t matter who had yelled the name, it mattered who answered the call.

“In your dreams, Rooster.” his voice is the same as you remember, still dripping with cockiness and oozing with cool. Your fingers curl around the cool glass in your hands, pressing your fingertips into it so hard your nails could have snapped clean off.

Water blasts through the windows with a shriek of breaking glass, flooding the bar, uprooting chairs and tables, carrying bottles and bodies. It’s cold and all consuming, and you’re back. Most times it came to you whilst you slept, vulnerable and defenceless, that’s when those memories invaded your mind and possessed your body.

The water is red, a frighteningly, bright red, and it leaves the taste of pennies on your tongue. The body floats. You fought the water with every muscle in your body, and your throat burns as a mixture of salt water and blood sting your lungs. You nearly have him in your arms but it’s just so hard, you almost have him, his parachute ghosting at your finger tips as you reach, desperately trying to cling to him.

“No” It’s horrible the way it comes out, like a strangle in the back of your throat. “Please, no, please!” And suddenly you’re praying, and wondering if God exists at all in the same breath.

“Angel, you good?” Phoenix asks, resting her chin on the que, concern washes over her face.

Hangman’s attention shifts from the pool game onto Phoenix for a moment, following her gaze he settled on you. A look of confusion falls into a soft, sullen look.

“No.” you squeak out, your head shaking ever so slightly. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t dare move until you do. Digging your heels into the varnished wood floor, your chair screeches as you get to your feet. It’s more of a whisper this time, but it slips out again. “No.”

Jake Seresin had run through your life like a tornado through a small town, and you’d spend far too long digging through the debris and picking through the pieces that broke apart in the chaos , to put yourself through that again. You slap a five, or maybe it was a ten, you couldn’t be sure or really give a damn, down on the table. It’s a sickly feeling that creeps up from the pit of your stomach and radiated throughout yours nerves, seizing your spine and rendering you fingers numb.

“Sorry.” You choke, a lump forming in the back of your throat. “Sorry I just have a headache, erm, I guess I forgot to eat today.” You realize in that moment how terrible of a liar you are. Fibs never came easily to you, it was something you wished you worked on, like a fine skill you could hone when necessary.

Gently Bob taps the cup to your arm, now convinced you are famished beyond compare. You yield, taking a few peanuts in your hand.

“Thanks.” You don’t even like peanuts, but you force them into your mouth and chew, and chew and chew until it’s mush. Make them believe you take care of yourself, you remind yourself. “Hey tonight was really fun-” you begin, realistically you’d spent all of what you rounded up to as ten minutes at the Hard Deck. “But I’m not feeling so good, so I think I’ll just head home.”

“Yeah, no, no of course.” She knows it’s a lie, but she smiles anyways.

The second you slip out the back door you gasp for air, taking in as much as physically possible. It almost hurts how far you push your lungs. You brace yourself on the patio ledge, thankful for the privacy of such a pathetic moment. Your head pounded like you’d just been on a three day bender despite having but a lick of alcohol. The bile rises faster then you can even realize what’s happening. Emptying out what little you have, you stifle a sob and heave and heave and heave.

Upside down, the world felt simpler somehow. Perhaps it was due to the fact you couldn’t physically think for a moment, but you weren’t going to waste a moment of peace going over the logistics.

The blood rushes back to your brain as you straighten up. Like divine intervention, your vision clears suddenly, and you set your sights on an unopened bottle of water. Had it not been screwed on so tight, you wouldn’t have trusted no one had put their lips to it. There were worse things, you thought, there were definitely worse things. Taking the warm water in your mouth, you swish it about and pretend it’s not the flavour of melted plastic in the California sun.

Your face buries into the palms of your hands as you lean your elbows on the rail, the sound of waves crashing did well to ease some of your nerves that had been drawn taught.

~~~~~~~~~

Scrambling for your keys as you round the Hard Deck, you freeze just before the drop of the curb. He’s taller then you remember, but perhaps you’ve just forced him out of your mind so often, you simply forgot what he really looked like in person. Even the way he leans against your car is self righteous. It’s your beloved army green jeep, but Jake Seresin could have convinced you it belonged to him had he spoke it into existence.

“You’ve grown up. Christ it’s been forever hasn’t it?” The cool and collected nature of his tone had all but shrivelled and died, what was left was something you couldn’t quite decipher. “I thought our reunion would be a bit more explosive.”

“When have I ever been explosive?” You asked, patting around your jeans for your damn car keys.

“I can think of a few times.” He smirks, but it falls when he see’s how frantic you are to find a means of escape. “Really, are you that desperate to avoid me?”

You ignore him, patting at the denim of your pockets over and over as though the keys might magically appear.

“Look at me, please.” Jake pleads, but you don’t.

It isn’t until you hear the sound of metal meeting metal that your eyes snap up to catch his gaze for the first time in two years, dangling the key ring in front of himself. Coaxing you to step closer like he were holding a string of yarn out to a kitten.

“You left them on the table inside.” He answered before you could even think to ask.

“Oh.”

Twirling the key ring around his finger, he quickly retracts them into his palm. You couldn’t recall ever putting them down. “Can we at least talk?”

“I’d rather not.” It’s empty. You’re empty. It physically pained him not to reach out, to touch and comfort you. He thinks of the Claremont Motel.

Jake’s jaw sets in a hard line, grinding his teeth ever so slightly. “You can’t avoid me forever. I’m inevitable.” His words struck you like a freight train, knocking the wind from your lungs.

“Why? What more is there to say?” You ask, the moon catching in the teary glow of your eyes. You leaned against the hood of your car, stabilizing yourself as the world spun and your stomach flipped.

“It doesn’t even have to about that. I just wan’t to talk. I literally would settle for a discussion about the goddamn weather…how’ve you been?”

“I’m fine.”

“God you’re such a shitty liar.” he conjures a low laugh, with a grin that stirred something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Fine, I’m not fine.” You shakily concede. The last time you’d been fine was a time you weren’t sure even existed. “Jake, I-I don’t know what you want from me? If you want to talk, there’s really nothing else to say.” Something clicks in your mind, like a puzzle piece you had spent ages trying to place in it’s spot, sliding into the curves and aligning the edges. “Nothing that couldn’t have been said two years ago.”

Jake had knocked the wind out of himself before, at least three times if he were to count, but this was nothing any physical push could cause. This was a wind he’d held onto in the chambers of his lungs for so long, never thinking it would be stirred again.

“I just want to talk. Please, can we just talk.” His walls are reinforcing, stubborn determination trickling through his demeanour. “Christ, I’ll settle for a chat about the weather…I just miss you.”

“No.” Your teeth grit together, ready to spit, throttle and scream at him. But you breathe out, it’s slow and focused. “The weather is lovely, with zero humidity and a light breeze, and you, Jake Seresin, do not miss me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Trust me, I’ve spent a long time coming to terms with the ugly truth that you don’t.” It visceral, it’s somewhere between depressed and furious, but it’s so calm that it confuses him.

Waiting, and waiting and waiting, so much time waiting on Jake.

You would have been happy with an e-mail, a voice mail or just any trace of proof that you weren’t just a vessel for his guilt for one night. You hated how badly you wanted him to want you - but you put that dream to rest.

Dreams were silly, and you’d grown far too familiar with nightmares to really mourn the loss.

~~~~~~~~~

Drunk off boxed wine you picked up at a overpriced market on the way home, you sat on the floor of your bedroom, sinking into the lush, fluffy white rug you’d spent way too much money on. The pale blue glow of the television offering the only light you would allow. Anything could of been flashing across the screen, you would have been none the wiser.

There’s a small part of you, it’s minuscule, but you find yourself praying to hear a knock at the door. To have someone hold you and let you sob. Your eyes close and you find yourself pretending the muffled voice on the tv are a crowded room, and you aren’t so incredibly alone.

~~~~~~~~~

Hangman fucked up. Badly.

It was such a small interaction but it stuck to him like glue. The smile your way, the the meeting of gazes, the air of hope that maybe, just maybe, you would give him an inch, but you resisted by a mile. To make matters worse, you’d been so excruciatingly warm to Fanboy. The pressure of G-force had royally wrecked his neck, and Jake could not tear his eyes away, watching as you pressed and prodded the tender flesh at the nape of his neck, feeling for displacement or injury that was worse for wear - you were practically jacking him off.

You even laughed at something he said. What the actual fuck?

It played over and over like a scratched disk, repeating and repeating, anxiety building in his chest. It was a stupid mistake, it was such a colossal rookie mistake. Nearly clipping Phoenix’s wing, Hangman lost control for a moment after getting caught in the jet wash, descending into a terrifying flat spin. White noise fills his ears, the radio fell on deaf ears, someone was hollering his callsign frantically - Rooster maybe? No, no maybe it was Coyote, or Payback?

“Hangman pull the fuck up!” Alphabet’s voice jolts him back into a plane of existence neither here nor there, that for a moment he’s alive, and Hangman’s flying a two seater. “Pull-up!”

And he does. Just hardly recovering from the death spin.

The debrief that followed was tense, uncomfortable and could have been avoided had he just focused.

Had he not gotten Alphabet killed.

Finally dismissed, his fellow TOPGUNS stretched and yawned as they rose from their seats, meandering toward the exit but lingering about the room as they slipped into conversation. A chorus of “I need a drink after that” and “Let’s get wasted” filtering out of their mouths.

It wasn’t often Hangman was criticized or his technique critiqued, more often than not because he didn’t screw up, but led by example. He couldn’t make anymore mistake from here on out, he refused to, but that started with you.

“You’re going to get me killed.” He sings, striding toward you with . there’s hint of anger interlaced with the smoothness of his voice. “But I guess you wouldn’t hate that, would you?”

You quirk a brow his way, hands deep in your medic bag. It’s so ridiculous you almost don’t acknowledge it. “Sorry?”

“This whole cold shoulder shit? It’s getting in my head. We need to talk this shit out, right now” It’s just above a whisper, not wanting the others who lingered around to hear.

“You can’t be serious.” You sigh, zipping up the bag without so much as meeting his eyes.

“Look, I get it. You hate me. I’m a horrible person. But we need to leave that shit outside of the base, it’s affecting my work.”

“You are the one that keeps bringing it up. Just stick to your own shit and I’ll stick to mine.” your throw your hands up in bewilderment - It sounds simple in theory but it was far more complicated than that. “I’ve literally not said a word to you today.”

“That’s what I’m fucking talking about!” It’s louder than he’d hoped. Rooster’s attention now drawn to the two of you. Phoenix and Fanboy take notice soon after. Bob had noticed long before the others, but dare not get in the middle.

“You good over there?” Rooster asked as he stepped away from the group.

“It’s nothing.” Hangman snaps, looking over his shoulder with a venomous look in his eyes.

“Look, if we’re going to be working together, we need to at least try to-to come to an understanding” he offers, the sound of his voice reverberating throughout the room as he focuses back on you.

“Jake-“ you start, but he’s still going, wound up like a toy car that’s only started his race.

“I mean, with all due respect, I just want to be able to do my job and not be distracted.” He continues, your knuckles pale at your sides as they ball up the material of your uniforms.

“Jake.” You make another attempt, but it’s futile.

“But I can’t, because you’re acting like a child.” Now he’s really getting riled up, but you were no stranger to that. “You’re being selfish, you realize that don’t you? How long can you hate me for?”

“Hangman!” You bark it out like an order, and it takes him by surprise. You don’t give him a chance to overpower the conversation. “I don’t hate you.”

The truth punches him in the throat, you swear his face softens from the hardness he usually carries.

“I never did, but it’s so hard being near you. When I look at you, I see him dead. I hear him every day. I hear his screams. I hear the static of his com being crushed. I look at you and it all comes back.” The words break apart with a sob, you pout your lips with a twist - a feeble attempt to not cry. “When I look at you it makes me physically fucking sick.”

“Woah, woah guys, chill out!” Phoenix advances on the situation, ready to pull you out. “It’s been a long day, let's just cool off.” Phoenix tries but you dodge her touch, swerving around her attempt to peace keep.

“Hurting him wasn’t enough, was it?” you hiss - it’s cruel and you know it is. Protecting his conscience was no longer a concern.

~~~~~~~~~

The hot steam of the shower seemed to soothe the tension you’d developed in your muscles after your little run in with Jake, but the thought of him grazing near death today set your stomach in painful knots you were struggling to ignore. The cool tile brought relief to the headache you’d developed as you couldn’t stop reliving the horrible, stupid, awful fight in your head. The rhythmic thud-like heart beat in your temples was growing louder by the second.

Thud.Thud.Thud.

Pushing off the shower wall, you feel around for the tap, carefully listening as you weren’t sure if you were going crazy - sure it felt like a percussion was sounding off in your skull, but that was not just a headache.

Grabbing a towel, you quickly wrap around your check and tuck it into itself, securing it atop your breasts as you stumble out of the shower. Sliding your feet into the dry, cotton slippers you wore about the house post shower, and crept out of your bathroom.

Your heart raced, keeping with the frantic pace of the knocking. “Hold on!” You holler, discreetly tip toeing around furniture so you didn’t alert whoever was waiting outside the door of your proximity - a skill you mastered from the countless times your neighbours tried to invite you over for wine.

Peeking through the peep hole, you freeze.

“Jake?” You ask, the distorted fishbowl view of him was almost humorous. You unbolt the chain, and slide it across before turning the main lock. Just a crack, you open the door and peer out. “Sorry I didn’t hear you over the shower…”

“Can I come in…and talk?” God, he really wanted to do that huh?

“I’m not really dressed.” You almost laugh, but he’s so serious that you can’t bring yourself to.

“Don’t worry, nothing I haven’t seen.” He purses his lips matter-o-factly to the side. He’s looking at you, waiting for permission, and against all better judgment you let him in.

“You-how do you know where I live?” It’s squeaky, not at all how you wanted to convey the question.

“The jeep.” It’s not original to own a four door jeep in army green, not in a town that is etched into a naval base. But you know how he knows. It’s the same way dog tags all feel the same, but if you blindly felt through a pile of silver names, you could pick his out every time. You’re brother had that effect on people. His soul stashed away into little pieces of a life left behind.

You linger in the entrance of your small apartment for a moment, not quite sure what to say or do. Protectively fingers clutch the tucked knot of towel, and you feel his eyes stealing glances.

The last and only time you’d been so naked in front of him was the night of the funeral. Both on grievance leave for the next three days, you decided to stay in a motel. You couldn’t handle being at home, not without your brother. It was so empty. The absence of his hollering laugh, or the sound of old sixties rock and roll blasting from his speakers as he’d roll up in his jeep - just coming home as you were waking up. It would kill you if you’d spent another second in that painfully quiet house. You were sure of it.

Your feet ached as you walked around the town you grew up in, leaning into Jake, passing back and forth a bottle of whiskey in a brown paper bag, searching for memories of your brother in the streets, and the stop signs he drove through, or in the tree’s he climbed when he was twelve and you were just nine, worrying yourself sick he’d fall and crack his skull. In truth you both drank that night, but not enough to get wasted, just enough to ease the sharpness that made a home for itself in your chest.

For weeks you’d thought about how he reclined you on the hotel mattress, lips on yours, a salty taste on your tongue as quiet tears slipped from his eyes and mixed with your own. His loose tie dangling down and sending shivers across your skin as it brushed your neck. For months you could feel the ghost of his touch climbing up your pantyhose clad thigh, slipping beneath the black skirt of your dress, slipping into you.

You’d spent so long believing he hadn’t given the night at the Claremont much thought, just another drunken escapade for the books, but Jake still felt the imprint of your heel that hooked around his leg when he kissed you against the motel room door; the husky moans that sung at the back of your throat as you ravaged each other in kisses. He closed his eyes more often then not, and tried to relive that moment, to memorize every detail and sensation, to chase that high for as long as possible. He thought about it when he climbed altitudes, he thought the higher he went the closer he’d get to that feeling again - not once, not even close. Not by a long shot.

You could hear the whispers of sweet nothings still humming in your ears when you tried to focus, when you tried to drown out the aching feeling that you couldn’t shake. You think of that dingy hotel room, lit by nothing but the milky glaze of moonlight and the “Vacancy” sign flickering in seedy neon reds. The feeling of his lips on your jaw, down your neck, peppering across your breast, lower and lower, here and there and there.

“Why did you make me go through it alone?” it’s courage mixed with fear and it leaks through the cracks of your voice, like downpour on an old roof.

It’s so vivid in your mind; the morning haze bleeding through motel curtains, seeping onto your bare skin. The nervous excitement that settled in, as flashes of the night came crawling back into your consciousness like a hangover. It’s the devastation of his clothes not strewn about the room, entangles with yours, and the absence of a text - god, you hadn’t been worth a ten second text - and the absence that follows for months, dragged onto two years.

“Because I’m a coward.” It’s the most honest thing he’s ever said. The facade of top gun, machismo, ladies man surrendered, leaving behind the man who stood before you. It was almost voyeuristic, like a sight unseen - a sight you weren’t supposed to see, and yet there you were, baring witness. “I was scared. I couldn’t face you sober. If I stayed I thought you’d realize you hated me.”

His gaze is distant, like he doesn’t want to be there. He can’t be there. A raw pain simmering in the blue of his iris, he couldn’t face you then or and he couldn’t face you now

“I was such a fucking idiot back then.” He sighs, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. Slowly he nodded, settling on the statement. “I was being stupid and reckless, all for a stupid mission I didn’t even end up going on in the end.”

Rivalry was nurtured by the military, encouraged by old men who hadn’t put their lives on the line in decades. They made you feel like you had to be the best, it was terrifying to think you weren’t. It was unbearable how hard the pressure to be the top of the class became, but when Hangman was running out of chances, Alphabet was there to spare another life.

He had been warned they were too high, that the others weren’t on their asses anymore, but it was too late. Higher and higher he made them fly, he wouldn’t be shot down - he wouldn’t allow himself to lose. Jake had surrendered to G-LOC, they both had.

While Jake came to, and ejected when it counted, it was too late for Zach, the timing was all wrong. Tangled in his parachute, slammed against the cliff sides, shattering bone on bone - it was all too gory to even imagine. He knew you didn’t have to though, and that’s what killed him.

“Honestly, I wish it was me.” He stifles a sob, pinching the bridge of his nose as he drops his head.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, it’s all so caring and sweet and he doesn’t deserve it. He knows it. “What I said before, about hurting him…it wasn’t fair.”

“I wish I could go back.”

“We can’t, Jake. We can’t. I think it’s time we stop trying to.” you reach for his hand, still clutching the towel with your other.

He finds himself pressing a kiss to the flesh of your knuckles, it’s hesitant, careful. You pull free before grabbing fabric of his shirt and putting all your faith in the towel, pulling him into you. Pull. Pull. Pull.

You’d spend so much time pushing, you couldn’t stand to waste another second of not being in his orbit. Your lips find his, and a cross between a moan and whine murmurs against your mouth vibrates. It’s messy at first, his reaction time off but he quickly comes to, a firm hand finds your waist and he walks you back.

For so long you wanted to be numb, to rid yourself of feeling. Whether you’d achieved it through booze, or an edible here or there, as long as it let you forget, as long as it could lull you to sleep in the sanctity of your bedroom, that’s all that counted.

But now you wanted to feel everything. The sting of his teeth biting at your lip, the light tug at your hair, the taste of his tongue that had the lingering flavour of his favourite strawberry sports drink - everything, all at once. The strength of his grip dug into your waist, too afraid he’d lose you if he didn’t anchor you in place, he could’ve cried.

“Promise me.” You murmur between breaths, his mouth finding your neck.

“Anything.” He breaks away, cupping your face in the palm of his hand.

“Promise me that you want me.” You almost weep, it’s such a terrifying thought. “That you want me, not just need me right now.”

“I want you,” he breathes, dragging the pads of his thumb along your cheeks as you clutch his wrists. “I want you so much that I can’t breathe.”

For the first time, in a long time, you could look at the man who made you feel this life altering fight or flight, and felt safe.

As dawns kiss painted you in it’s pale golden light, wrapped and entangled sound Jake’s legs, he allowed himself a sliver of forgiveness. Your touch was healing, even in slumber, even when you didn’t try.

There wasn’t a chance in hell that Jake “Hangman” Seresin was running away, not from this, not from you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: This is my first TG:M fic, I hope it’s okay. I literally went off the deep end lol, enjoy! Reblog’s and comments make me feral, I will kiss you if you do. Let me know if you liked it <3

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #jake seresin imagine #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #hangman self insert #hangman x you #hangman x yn #hangman x y/n #glen powell #glen powell x reader #glen powell imagine #glen powell fanfiction #hangman fanfiction #hangman fanfic #top gun:maverick

2K notes · View notes

twinklelilstarkey · 2 years ago

Text

Drunk - Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Words: 2.4k+ Type: Fluff Summary: Jake being clingy while drunk. Warnings: GenderNeutral!Reader. Mentions of alcohol and being drunk. Jake wants to kidnap dogs on the street. From this request

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

Jake left the house probably around 9PM for a night out with his friends. He told you that he had no intention of getting too drunk, but you also happen to know him and his friends for long enough to know that what he said is a bunch of bullshit.

Whenever at a bar, days after being back home, Jake will drink and cheer for everything his friends find fitting. So, you already planned on picking him up on the day he told you of his plans.

And, just like expected, one of his friends called you 15 minutes ago to come to pick him up. You got in your car not too long after that and drove yourself to the bar. You waited for maybe 5 minutes, and the group appeared at the bar’s door with everyone clinging to one another.

You decided to get out of the car to help them out. They spotted you right away, so two of Jake’s friends began to separate him from the others and begin to lead him toward you. Jake was confused, even with a smile on his face, but he let them take him to wherever they found right.

When Jake first noticed you, he was a step away from you. You couldn’t contend with your laughter at how drunk he was, because he truly had not seen you yet. Meanwhile, you talked to his friends about if they had fun or how their night was overall. And only then, Jake noticed you.

“Baby!”

It was the easiest way to detach him from his friends, but now you had your boyfriend extending his arms your way for a hug. You laugh at him and accept the hug. You have to also, eventually, wrap one of your arms around him and put him on your side so you can keep on going with the conversation. Jake leaned his cheek at the top of your head and closed his eyes as you spoke, all while his arms were tightly wrapped around you.

As soon as you said your goodbyes, you had to take Jake to the car and passenger seat. Walking was the easiest part, as Jake would trust anyone that led him, and he opened his eyes as soon as he heard you open the car door.

But that’s when he saw someone’s dogs. The poor person was just taking their dogs out for some sort of night jog, and now your boyfriend was letting go of you and happily running towards them. You have no idea how many times you said his name, trying to get back his attention, or how many times you said “sorry” to the jogger, but they didn’t seem to take the drunk pilot’s intentions as any way bad.

You stood behind Jake while he kneeled on the floor and pet the dogs of the jogger with a huge smile on his face. You held onto him, scared that he might fall over in a drunken slumber, and the dogs happily came on closer to him and licked his cheeks from time to time. Jake’s baby voice made a hell out of an appearance in this interaction.

It took him a while to face you again, while still very much entertained with the dogs. He made you almost get down on the floor with him only so he could whisper: "Do you think we can kidnap 'em?"

Honestly, you didn't even know where to start in explaining how that was a bad idea.

You had to eventually tell him to let go of the dogs and lead him back to the car. Jake made sure to say goodbye to the dogs and remind them of their outstanding cuteness before you took him away.

When he was finally inside the car, you ran to your side and turned on the child lock on all doors before he got any ideas. When the car was on and beginning to leave that street, Jake didn’t hesitate in taking his phone out of his pocket, grabbing the aux cord, and playing nothing but country music.

Jake screamed, shouted, and pulled windows down to sing the lyrics to random people on the street or to serenade you when you stopped at a red light. You had to make sure he had the seatbelt on him the whole time, but he never went too crazy.

Midway through your drive home, Jake made sure to remind you how much he loved those dogs ‘back there’ and how he would love to have one. He slurred some of his words but he was able to describe to you the perfect dog and even made you promise to ‘look for one' just like it tomorrow morning.

Now, the two of you got home. Your ears were ringing slightly after such loud country music, but you didn’t dare to complain. You get off the car first and help Jake get out as well. He instinctively throws his arm around your shoulders and helps close the door of the car. When you try to turn him to face your front door, he has his head back on top of yours.

“You smell good.” He tells, before continuing to sniff you.

You thank him through your laughter and force him to walk with you. When inside, he lets go of you all of a sudden and walks to the kitchen. You lock everything back up before following him to where he disappeared to. You find him forearm-deep into the freezer and simply watch as you try to understand what he’s doing.

A box of frozen pizza is pulled out, and Jake lets out a sound of pure joy. He turns to you with his big smile and almost trips on his way to the oven. You have to be the one to close the door of the freezer as he continues to leave things behind.

When you turn back around to face him, you see him with pizza in hand, the oven just turned on and his hand on the handle to open it.

“It needs to be preheated first!” You say right away, “And take the plastic off.”

“What plas-” Jake’s eyes go back to the cold pizza in his hand, and he does notice, finally, that the circle of dough with toppings has, indeed, plastic all around it. “Oh.”

The door of the oven is closed back up, and you watch Jake rip the plastic surrounding the pizza. You walk closer to him, already getting ready to pick up the trash he will drunkenly throw off his way and later ignore, and his attention is stolen by you by accident. His eyes go over to you when you reach to grab the plastic he so peeled off, and his mind goes blank.

Jake puts down the pizza and turns to you. You look at him confused and, out of nowhere, he grabs your face with his two hands and kisses you.

“I love you so much.” He says while with his mouth glued to yours.

“I love you more.” You say, pulling your head back a little and creating some distance between you to make you able to see his face.

Jake stares at you with your face still in his hands, and you stare back at him. His smile isn’t there anymore but he’s staring at you with such a peaceful look in his eyes, you can’t even get yourself to tease him for his sudden silence after the love confession.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says with the same look on his face.

You awn at him out loud and bring your hands to his wrists. He kisses you one more time and then wraps his arms around you, squeezing you close to his chest into a tight hug. You’re more than humored by what he’s doing, so you obviously hug him back.

It’s not until a few long seconds of silence that you notice that Jake won’t be letting go of you any soon. You turn your head, while still being squeezed against him, and grab the trash that you so want off your kitchen counter. Jake, unphased by your actions, leans his head on you and begins to close his eyes.

The first time you notice him laying his head on you, you quickly pinch him awake. If he falls asleep on you, you will be on your kitchen floor the entire night. You are having none of that.

Jake groans at the pinch, and you push him off of you for just a little. Maybe if you keep him occupied, he will forget how tired he is. So, you pass him the trash and point it over to the trashcan in the corner of the room. Jake simply stares at the plastic on your hand, and you have to be the one to physically put it in his hand, turn his body around, and push him in the direction of the trash.

That seems to work, so, while your drunk boyfriend walks to the trash to get rid of what you just handed him, you go ahead and put the pizza in a tray so he doesn’t get your just-clean-oven dirty by dropping the pizza in any way.

Jake didn’t talk much while you two waited for the oven to preheat, but he did eventually come back to your side and wrap one of his arms around you.

When the pizza was done, the two of you sat on the couch while he ate peacefully. You paid more attention to him than anything else because Jake so happens to be a very interested individual with his food while he chews. He stares at it for very long seconds before taking another bite. He also lets one of those dreamlike sighs randomly after taking a bite. Or try to always pick the next slice as if it’s his first. He’s entertaining, to say the least.

As soon as he was done with the food, while you weren’t looking, Jake looked at you. You were just laying back on the arm of the long couch the two of you are sitting on. You’ve eventually changed into more in-house clothing, and, in Jake’s eyes, you never looked more comfortable.

Jake does it so quickly and so suddenly, that an actual scream escapes you. He grabs your ankle, pulls at it until you’re practically laying your back on the couch, and before you can even begin to ask anything, Jake lays his head on your chest. Half of his body stays in between your legs, his arms stay by your sides, and his torso and head are right on you.

“Do that thing.” Jake says.

“What thing?”

He simply grabs one of your hands just by his arms and literally throws it to lay over his head. It clicks in your head exactly what he wants. You look down at him while your hand has not begun to move, and slowly do it. As soon as you begin to play with the strands of his hair and move throughout his scalp, Jake’s eyes fall closed.

You have a smile on your face right as he does it and he has, now, the most peaceful look on his face. You stare at him for just a little while longer, sometimes even bringing your hands to trace imaginary lines over his cheeks or jawline. You can feel how relaxed he is on top of you.

Your eyes move back to the TV, watching whatever ads are playing on there, and never stop the movements of your hands. After a few minutes, Jake is so relaxed that you don’t really know if he is asleep or not. He never seems to open his eyes, nor move his arms by your sides.

It’s not until you stop playing with his hair to try and grab the remote for the TV from the coffee table that the answer to your previous question is answered. The biggest whine of all existence breaks from the man above you. You wholeheartedly laugh at that, and Jake lifts his head from your chest right away.

Jake tries to give you the best glare he can muster since not only have you stopped playing with his hair, but now your torso is shaking with laughter. Yet his fake anger doesn’t last very long as you keep on giggling.

A small grin stays over his lips while he tries to hide the fact that your laughter is very contagious to him, and he looks over at the TV.

When you eventually calm down, you expect Jake to lay his head back down but he doesn’t. He instead raises himself with one hand on the couch and stares down at your torso.

You, this time, try to figure out his next move before he does anything, but it’s impossible. And, just when you least expect it, Jake lifts the shirt you’re wearing and, due to it doing oversized, easily slides under it. Jake’s head now rests on your chest again, but, this time, skin to skin. And he relaxes almost instantly.

You don’t say anything, nor do anything, you just let him be. You have no idea how you will take him to bed when he falls asleep, or how you will get yourself out of this predicament, but you also don’t mind it very much. Jake’s warm, and most of his weight is not on you. He’s like a weighted heated blanket of some sort.

You can feel his soft breathing on your skin and can only assume that his eyes are closed once more, closer to falling asleep than before, especially now that he’s shielded from the lights. You lay your hand over the shirt and his head and turn back to face the screen just mere feet away from you.

In the space of a few minutes, you notice that Jake’s breathing has become way slower and deeper. He has definitely fallen asleep. You can peek at him a little through the color of your shirt, and you notice that he is indeed asleep.

Your eyes now move to the ceiling, thinking of a way out.

There’s no way you get out from under him without waking him up, and, also, not fall to the floor. If you do want to take him to your actual bed, you might have to drag him if he doesn’t walk. But how would you even begin to take him off the couch? Just push him off? Can you even drag him all the way down the hallway? And how would you even put him in bed?

Jake lets out a deep breath in his sleep, and you peek over at him again. Deep in his peaceful slumber, Jake turns his head on your chest and happily sleeps away. There’s no way you will have the heart to push him off of you.

You bring your hand from under the shirt to play with his hair and notice how his face creates a teeny tiny frown when feeling it at first, but he quickly relaxes right after. With your vacant hand, you are able to reach the remote without much movement, and you turn down the volume to a soft mumble. Not even the sound can’t even disturb the sleeping pilot, now.

As you watch him with a heart full as he sleeps so carelessly and peacefully under your touch, your own eyes begin to grow tired. It might not be a good idea, you know that. You might wake up with the biggest pain in your back and neck, cold from the lack of blankets, and with eyes burning first thing in the morning due to not closing the blinds of the windows next to the television. But you do not care.

And, just like that, you too fall asleep.

I know this was very simple, but I preferred to write something like this instead of a gigantic imagine. Hope you guys liked it <3 Feedback is always appreciated!

606 notes · View notes

inkdrinkerworld · 1 year ago

Note

Hello hello my love <3 I thought maybe I could request something where reader has never really been comforted when crying throughout her life but one time Jake walks in on her crying and just comforts her. She doesn’t expect that and it’s all just a bunch of fluff! I love your writing so much thank you for putting your work out for people to enjoy <3

Xoxo

thank you for reading <3

there's something rooted deeply in your body that tells you crying is something to feel shameful about.

in your mind, you know it's not true- there's nothing shameful in being able to let your emotions out. but when you've been left to cry alone, it can get warped and the divide between your head and what your body feels is a lot to bridge.

you didn't expect jake to return from flight training so early.

you're sobbing on the bed, eyes swollen and puffy as your tears soak your pillow.

jake stumbles through your home on edge till he finds you. "suga'," he coos, boots and flight suit pulled off in record time as he comes to lay beside you.

"jake," you gasp, turning away from him as he gets close to you. "sorry," you whisper and your southern boyfriend frowns.

"for what?" he tries to lift your chin, but you keep it tucked protectively to your chest.

"crying." your voice is clogged with tears, head pounding as you withhold some of them.

"ain't nothing to be sorry for." jake says, drawing your body back into his as you remain faced away from him. "if you need t'cry, you cry suga. i ain't stopping you."

"really?" jake feels his heart break for the little you that had to cry on your own. he feels the splinters in his heart at your insecurity about it.

"look at me," he implores, voice calm and steady. you turn slowly, building up the courage to look at him. when you do he gives you a little smile.

"you don't have to feel any shame for crying. it's okay to cry and have other people see you cry; i promise."

you give him a messy nod and jake presses kisses to your sticky cheeks, holding you till all the tears are dry and you're yawning on his chest.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jakeseresin #jake seresin x black!reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x yn #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin one shot #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin blurb #jake seresin drabble #jake seresin fic #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader

237 notes · View notes

croimilis · 2 years ago

Text

Christmas thought for the day; Jake Seresin will always try and get you under the mistle toe for a kiss. It doesn't matter if you haven't started dating yet or your married 10 years, he will do it and will have a shit eating grin on his face every time he does. Whenever your older and have kids, they cringe and roll they're eyes at their sap of a father

#jake seresin x yn #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x yn #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick x yn #top gun maverick x you

53 notes · View notes

reaperintheroses · 2 years ago

Text

Answered Prayers

Jake Seresin x Innocent reader warnings: innocent reader, first kiss, minimal dialogue Prompt: Write a first kiss previous day | next day masterlist A/N: I really struggled with this lol. Annapolis, Maryland is where the naval academy is located. He gripped your face slightly, the butterflies in your stomach rose to your throat. You felt your lungs constrict. No words would come out. You just choked. You’d asked for this. You’d prayed to God that it would happen all throughout high school. And then he left. He was home for Christmas. the naval academy had shaved his head, defined his muscles. You had subconsciously been counting down the moments til he got home. You had waited until the day after he returned to your little Texas town. Letting him spend the time with his family. You didn’t know what this was. This thing between you. Yet you centered yourself anyway. Glad out of everyone, it was him. Everyone’s first kiss should be special, even if you wanted until your highschool best friend was shipped off to Annapolis to confess your love to him. So you smiled. Nodded slightly. He bent down, his hold on your face soft as butter. “Just relax,” his draw, which so far had been disguised from all these weeks in Maryland, coated his words. You shut your eyes as his lips met yours. Hesitant, tender. You melted, your prayers finally answered.

#drabble december #hangman x reader #hangman x yn #hangman x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x yn #jake hangman seresin x reader #they're not all topgun I swear

85 notes · View notes

ohthatstragic · 2 years ago

Note

Could you write something with a shy reader for Rooster? 🫣

I have multiple forms of severe anxiety and get extremely overwhelmed in crowds unless I have someone I trust with me and I’m allowed to hold their hand, so I thought it might be cute for maybe Rooster taking his partner (or even just his friend, who they share feelings for each other bc friends to lovers is iconic) to meet the other pilots and he realizes they’re starting to get a bit fidgety so he just immediately takes their hand or puts his arm around them, not calling much attention to their anxiety, and silently comforting them and helping them become more at ease around his friends 🥺

Anxious Attachments - b.b

a/n: hello there, and thank you for requesting such a sweet thing :,) i'm so sorry for the long wait, there is just a lot of requests to work through, and also life! i hope you enjoy this anon <3

i am working through them all! i promise <333

also pls don’t repost or translate any of my work.. i don’t give you permission to do that.

pairings: rooster x reader

warnings: mentions of anxiety, swearing once or twice i think, fluff hehe

wc: 1,507

summary: as above!

Every night you lay in the shared bed between you and Rooster, you always thought he had been sent to you by a Guardian Angel - or something along the lines of that. He was the perfect man to you. A six-foot-tall bundle of care and love. How you were so lucky to have him love you... it was just something you could never get your head around. The two of you had met through mutual friends at a birthday party a couple years back, and ever since the moment you laid eyes on each other, you'd been inseparable. He'd grown to love each and every part of you through the ups and downs of your relationship, and you were so grateful to how accepting and caring he was towards your anxiety.

Today of all days, you were going to meet his friends, and you couldn't be more terrified. Of course, Rooster had reassured you multiple times that they were the best people in the world and that they'd obviously love you. The anxiety and overthinking in your brain of course held you hostage and twisted his words into something along the lines of: they'll probably hate you and talk shit about you after you've turned your back.

"You almost ready to go, baby?" Rooster poked his head around the bedroom door, a pair of fingers wrapping around the wood. A happy grin worked it's way onto his lips as he stared at you, admiring you in all your beauty. You turned to face him, a nervous smile painting your face. "You look beautiful, honey." Rooster sighed with the same cheerful grin and brought himself into the room, slowly padding over to you with open arms. You felt a burning blush creep onto your cheeks as he let his big brown eyes rake over your dressed figure.

"Thanks, Roo," You said back with a quiet giggle, happily accepting his hug as he wrapped his strong arms around your smaller figure. "Are they all there already?" You asked, voice muffled as you had pressed your face into his chest.

"Yeah," He hummed, still keeping you wrapped up underneath him. You felt so safe in his arms, and in all honesty - you never, ever wanted to leave. "I'm gonna be beside you the whole time, baby." Rooster added after a short while of silence, knowing that there was most likely a war going on in your mind. He'd been with you long enough to know how your anxiety fucked with your head before going out somewhere to a foreign land. That land being a bar full of raucous naval pilots.

"I know, I know," You mumbled back, pulling your head out of the safety of his big chest. You looked up at your tall and tanned boyfriend and a small smile creeped onto your lips. "I wish I could stay here forever." You said, leaning your chin onto him. Rooster smiled down at you and chuckled, his teeth poking out from underneath his moustache.

"Me too, honey, me too." Rooster muttered with a gentle sigh, and leant his head down to press a soft kiss to your lips, reluctantly loosening his arms around you. You bit back the whine that threatened to slip from you as Rooster let his arms fall from you, your eyes still trained on each other. "Ready to go?" He asked you, taking your hands in his own. With a hesitant smile you nodded at him, silently answering his question. A grin spread across his face and you instantly felt part of your worry melt away as you watched his eyes crease and his moustache grow wide in a show of happiness.

****

The bar was buzzing with life as Rooster and you walked in together. Your eyes flicked around the room, crowds and seas of people dotting the tables and booths scattered throughout the bar. You clung to Rooster's arm, your chest suddenly feeling tight and barely breathable. Rooster noticed the sudden change in your grip on his arm, and he glanced down at you, worry in his eyes.

"You okay?" Your boyfriend whispered in your ear, making you look up at him quickly with a frantic look in your eye. Not wanting to be a nuisance, you nodded and put on a fake smile, encouraging him to keep walking.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." You smiled up at him and he stared at you for a moment, not totally convinced that you were telling the truth. Rooster didn't want to press you so he accepted your words and walked towards the group of his friends you came to meet; a concerned smile playing on his lips. He pressed a quick, soothing kiss to the top of your head and you felt a little less on edge, though the bubbling anxiety within you was still there, waiting to pounce.

As the two of you wandered through the crowds of people in the bar, you soon caught sight of some beige-coloured uniforms, and you put two and two together. "Is that them?" You asked quickly, glancing up at Rooster who still had you glued to his side. He looked down at you with a beaming grin and nodded, before his attention was cast away from you by a shout of his name.

"Rooster!" A female voice shouted from behind the wall of beige uniforms, it suddenly parting to reveal a gorgeous, tanned brunette woman. Rooster's arm was still around you as he walked you to the pilot who had called his name. "You must be Y/N." She beamed at you, her big brown eyes boring a hole into you.

"The one and only," You chuckled quietly, glancing up at Rooster for help. The naval aviator caught sight of your pleading look and immediately took control of the situation. A silent sigh of relief left your body.

"Y/N, this is Phoenix, Phoenix this is Y/N." He chimed in with a smile as his hand left your back. Phoenix, that must be her call-sign, you thought.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N." Phoenix's grin never left her cheeks as she glanced between you and Rooster, a cheeky glint in her eye. "Rooster never shuts up about you, by the way." She winked. The aforementioned pilot groaned at her words and you couldn't help but laugh, the feeling of anxiety returning to your body.

"Well I hope that everything Rooster's said is good." You joked, another amused laugh slipping from your lips. Before Phoenix could reply, a pair of tall men dressed in the same uniform stepped beside her with curious smirks. One was a strikingly handsome blonde, and the other was a similar height with black hair and a darker complexion with a bright, wide smile.

"We were wonderin' when Rooster was gonna bring the missus to meet us," The blonde chirped, smirk still sitting pretty on his face as he shared a glance with the pilot to his left. "Y/N, right?" He looked to you, holding out a hand for you to shake. You instantly felt like you'd been choked as Rooster's attention had been curbed by Phoenix after she asked him a question that required more than one brain cell to answer.

"Um, yeah," You replied, politely accepting the man's handshake and pulling away quickly as soon as he released your hand. The anxiety was becoming too much to handle and you started to pick at your fingers as you stared at the two pilots. "It's nice to meet you." You said with a weak smile, totally oblivious to the damage that you were causing to your hands.

"I'm Coyote, and this is Hangman," Coyote said with a kind smile, throwing a loose arm around Hangman's neck as you smiled back at them politely, praying that Rooster was going to finish up with Phoenix soon. "Rooster's told us a lot about you." He grinned, folding his arms against his chest.

"All good things?" You chuckled quietly, nibbling down on your bottom lip in an attempt to silence the anxious thoughts that were invading your mind. It felt like a storm had suddenly swarmed your head, and it was wearing your down quickly. You needed Rooster sooner than later. Speak of the devil, a pair of large, warm hands suddenly slipped around your waist and in response you whipped your head to look up at the owner, your heart skipping a beat once you realised who it was.

"It's always good things, honey," Rooster grinned and pressed a kiss to your temple and you instantly melted into his touch, your eyes closing momentarily as you savoured the way he felt against you. "You okay?" Rooster's silky voice brought you out of your thoughts and back into reality, and you smiled, leaning into his warm body.

"I'm perfect now." You replied quietly, looking up to catch a glimpse of his big, brown eyes that you'd grown to love and adore so dearly. You were so thankful for Rooster, and yet again you found yourself lost in your thoughts about him, wondering how the hell you were so lucky to have someone like him in your life.

my masterlist

how to request something

tag list:

@hlstead

@alltoocecilia

@shakespear-picaso-lovechild

@risingtripletaurus

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@elenavampire21

526 notes · View notes