#jake seresin x black female reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roosterforme · 10 months ago

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Sneak Peek | Hangman x Reader

Summary: You spent so much time around the boys, they counted you as one of them. You were firmly stuck in the friend zone with Jake, so it was time to move on with a guy who could see past your flight suits. It's not immediately obvious to either of you that cranky Jake is actually jealous Jake.

Warnings: Fluff, language, mentioned smut, 18+

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Happy birthday @beyondthesefourwalls!

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

"It's my turn to buy a round," you said, standing up from the table and grabbing the empty beer bottles before turning toward Jimmy and Penny at the bar.

"Thanks, Rodeo," Jake murmured, and you turned back briefly and smiled softly at him. His gaze slid down your body the same way it would with any other woman, the only difference was that he had started to notice just how many other guys were regularly checking you out, too. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that fact.

When you squeezed yourself between two stools at the bar to order four more beers, Bradley asked, "Who are you staring at, Hangman? Rodeo?"

Mickey laughed as Jake quickly shook his head and turned his attention back to his friends. "I just wanted to make sure she can manage carrying everything."

"I'm sure she's fine," Bradley replied with a laugh of his own. "I got a little nervous for a second there."

"Why?" Jake asked, his eyes slowly drifting back to you, watching as you slipped your credit card into the back pocket of your jeans.

"Because first of all," Bradley said as he smashed open a peanut on the table, "Rodeo is practically one of the guys. And second," he added, popping the peanut into his mouth and chewing, "it would be weird if you start looking at her like you do all the other random pieces of ass you take home with you. Even though she is cute."

"She's cute, for sure," Mickey piped in. "But once you've seen a girl throw up in the parking lot after a drunken karaoke night, the appeal kind of wears off."

Jake smiled as you headed back toward the table, because the drunken karaoke night was when he got to drive you home and carry you to your bed while you repeatedly tried to tell him you could walk by yourself.

"Oh, you know who else is cute?" Bradley asked just as you set four new beers on the table. "That redhead with the huge tits at the dartboard."

"Damn," Mickey groaned, and now you were looking in that direction, too. But Jake kept his eyes on you.

"Do we have to talk about this in front of Rodeo?" he asked, sipping his fresh beer and starting to wish Bradley and Mickey would wander off. "In front of a lady?"

Bradley snorted so hard, Jake was surprised his beer didn't shoot out of his nose. "A lady?" he asked as he looked at you and cuffed you on the arm. "Nice try, Hangman, but Rodeo doesn't count."

"Well, you don't count either," you told him, and Bradley tapped the neck of his bottle to yours. "And neither do the two of you." Your gaze met Mickey's before settling on Jake. "You know I don't mind when you guys talk about girls. I get it. You're all hot."

But your knee was rubbing against Jake's thigh at the tiny table, and for a brief flash, he thought maybe he wanted to count in your mind as a guy you could be into.

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

It was a strange dynamic, working with mostly a bunch of men all the time. They saw you in a flight suit once, and they never looked at you like you were a female ever again. And that was fine. It made your job easier in a lot of ways. There were fewer distractions, and you knew for a fact that they liked you for your personality. They wouldn't invite you to hang out all the time if they didn't.

But on nights like this, it did sting a little bit to watch the three of them tripping over themselves to go talk to the redhead who was clearly eating up the attention. You were essentially wearing the same outfit she was: jeans and a black shirt. And you thought you looked cute. And what exactly was wrong with your boobs? You looked down at your body and kind of shrugged. You didn't get it.

Natasha handed you a pool cue, and you sank a shot. You made up the excuse that you wanted to play so the guys wouldn't feel bad about abandoning you to go talk to girls, but Jake had been hesitant at first, so you shoved him along. That was a mistake, because you were reminded of how solid and muscular he was under his soft shirt.

The first few times you glanced his way, he was already looking back at you. If he were any other guy, you would have just asked him out by now, but you were so firmly in the friend zone with all of them that it was embarrassing. The rejection would be laughable.

So you put your head down and focused on the game and the chit chat around you. But after a while you got curious, and when you looked up again, Bradley and Mickey were walking back toward the table where your empty beer bottle sat. Jake had won. The redhead was running her fingernails through his hair. It was all over for the night.

You weren't jealous. You weren't. You just didn't understand why it couldn't be you. As you sank the eight ball, you said, "I'm beat. I'm going to head home."

"Me too. Want a lift?" Mickey asked, and you nodded, not sparing a single glance back at Jake.

Maybe you were the problem. Maybe you weren't sexy. You spent most of Sunday scrutinizing yourself in your bedroom mirror and going through all of your clothing. There really wasn't much of it since your closet was lined with uniforms and flight suits. And when you looked in the mirror, it wasn't like you could even tell what the problem was. You were just you, but it was starting to feel like you'd been playing around in this male-dominated world for so long, you were just blending in there.

"Fuck it," you muttered reaching for your phone. There was a text from Bradley detailing the pricing for tickets to a Padres game, which you desperately wanted to go to. It sounded fun. Then you realized the beer drinking and peanut eating would simply be moved to a different venue in which the guys would be looking at all the other women around you. Suddenly it didn't sound so fun.

There were also a handful of texts from Jake. He must have kicked his guest out early if he was asking how you were doing this morning. You sent back a short message before finding the app on your screen that had been dormant since you got stationed in San Diego last summer. Tinder. It was right there.

Nervously, you entered your login information, terrified that you'd just end up with a bunch of guys you saw on base as your best options. They would undoubtedly take one look at you and have the same reaction your male friends did. But you spent the rest of the day thinking about it. You looked, but you didn't sample. You found some guys who were surprisingly not in the Navy, but you didn't swipe. And maybe part of the reason you didn't was because Jake kept texting you all day long.

Monday was your tipping point. You were all ready to fly in your boots and flight suit when you ended up surrounded by the guys in the hangar. "We getting Padres tickets, Rodeo?" Bradley asked. "Day drinking at Petco Park?"

You nodded at him. "Sounds fun."

Then Mickey cut in as Jake walked over. "Hey, Hangman. How was our little redheaded friend?" he asked with a smirk, but Jake's expression stayed the same as his eyes met yours.

"Wouldn't know."

"Oof," Bradley said with a goading laugh. "What, you kicked her out without even talking to her afterwards?"

You swallowed and looked down at your boots as you thought about the guys on the dating app. Maybe a little change of scenery wouldn't hurt anything after all.

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

"Can you just knock it the fuck off?" Jake snapped. "I didn't even spend the night with her." He watched you put your helmet on as you walked toward your jet. "And I don't like talking about this shit around Rodeo anymore."

"Alright," Bradley replied with a tiny smirk. "No need to get mad about it."

When Jake took to the air, you were all business, as usual. You and he flew well together, like you always did. But back on the ground at lunchtime, you barely spared a glance in his direction in the cafeteria. Instead, you were completely absorbed in something on your phone as you picked at your food.

"What's wrong?" he eventually asked, and you looked up at him like you were surprised he was still there.

"Nothing," you murmured, taking a drink before returning your attention to your phone. "Just working on something."

"On what?" he asked, voice almost as snippy as it had been earlier. He found he didn't like it when your attention wasn't focused on him, which was absolutely infuriating, because it's not like the two of you were anything.

"My Tinder profile," you replied smoothly as you licked your lips, and Jake thought he must have misheard. Since when were you looking for a guy?

"Tinder?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed. "I'm just trying to sort out which photo to use, because I like this one where I'm in my flight suit, but guys don't really tend to go for that sort of thing."

You turned your phone to show him, and Jake swallowed hard. It was a photo he had taken a few months ago. He remembered that day. Your sunglasses were hooked on the top of your suit, and your helmet was tucked under your arm, and your smile was infectious.

"I like that one," he told you softly.

But you just rolled your eyes and groaned. "But you don't count, now do you?"

Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Why are you on Tinder anyway?"

Now you laughed as you set your phone down. "Why do you think?"

He didn't want to think about it, even though he knew why. You were looking to hookup with someone. Or maybe it was even worse. Maybe you were looking for an actual boyfriend. Someone to spend all your time with. You'd be at the Hard Deck after work less frequently. You'd be going to the Padres game with some faceless idiot, and he'd be the one carrying you home after you overdid it at karaoke night. Worse yet, you could have your pick of any guy on that app who caught your eye, but Jake knew for a fact none of them were good enough for you.

"Rodeo," he grunted, unsure how to voice his concerns. You just tapped your screen a few times and then smiled at him as his heart clenched a little bit.

"I went with the photo from Reuben's wedding instead."

Jake ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't even have to ask. He also knew that photo well too. His voice was soft as he said, "Blue dress. Holding a martini. Hand on your hip." He didn't like the idea of a bunch of guys he didn't even know looking at you wearing something so pretty.

"That's the one! And now my bio is live on the app," you said as you tapped your screen one last time. "Wish me luck."

You stood with your tray and Jake told himself he would do no such thing.

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

"That photo must have done the trick," you mumbled the following day in the rec room on base as Natasha helped you sort through your matches.

"I'm sure it did," she replied in awe. "You look hot in it."

You wanted to believe her, but it didn't even matter right now, because the two of you were staring at a photo of a hot guy who had sent you a message. You gasped. "Is this for real?"

"Looks like it," she replied. "If you don't fuck him, I will. Happily."

"What are the two of you over here whispering about?" You looked up into Jake's smiling eyes and gave him a grin of your own.

"Rodeo is getting all the Tinder hotties," Natasha replied, and suddenly Jake's smile vanished. "Let me know if he sends you a dick pic."

"He better fucking not!" Jake growled as he tried to reach for your phone. "Show me what this asshole looks like so I know who to pound to dust if he sends you one." You rolled your eyes and held up your phone so he could see. "His name is Tony? And he's a dentist?"

"What's wrong with that?" you asked quickly.

Jake crossed his arms over his chest. "If you have to ask, then you don't want to know."

You scoffed and opened your messages. "You're being dramatic. And I don't get on you about who you decide to hook up with."

"So you're just trying to hook up with this asshole?" he asked, his lips curling in disgust.

Honestly, you weren't really sure. But he sounded nice in the messages he sent. "Would it really be so bad if I was?"

Jake scrutinized your face like he was in pain, and you had the craziest thought flash through your mind that perhaps he was jealous. But then the pinched lines on his forehead vanished, and his voice was completely calm as he said, "You do what you want, Rodeo. But don't come crying to me about it later."

"Fine," you told him as he walked away. And that's what spurred you to reply to Tony's message with a more flirtatious one of your own. You were allowed to hook up with him. You were allowed to go out on a date. Maybe you'd even eventually request a dick pic. Jake wasn't in charge of your Tinder profile or dating agenda.

A few short exchanges back and forth was all it took, and suddenly you had plans for Saturday night that didn't involve hanging with the guys at the Hard Deck for once. Tony was going to take you out to dinner, and you were already excited.

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

"Where the hell is Rodeo?" Bradley asked as he returned to the table with three bottles of beer instead of four. "She's usually here by seven."

Jake rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "She's not coming. She's on a date with some smug looking asshole named Tony."

"Good for her," Mickey piped up, earning a glare from Jake. "I hope she gets laid. You wanna grab Javy and play pool?"

With a groan, Jake dragged himself out of his seat and forced his body through the motions. He hit the cue ball with perfect precision, but meanwhile, all he could think about was some other guy's hands all over your body while he shoved his tongue down your throat. "Fuck," he growled, trying to fight the urge to text you. If you wanted him, you knew how to reach him.

Between shots, he glanced around the bar at all the other women, but he couldn't find a single one as pretty as you. He spent the rest of his night barely conversing with his friends while he hoped that your date was a complete flop. And when he left to head home alone, he caved and texted you to make sure you got back to your place safely.

That was over twelve hours ago. Jake still hadn't heard back from you. It was damn near noon on Sunday, and he was left assuming that you spent the night with Tinder Tony. When you finally texted him back, the response made him toss his phone aside.

Sorry, just seeing this now. Yes, I made it home safely. See you tomorrow.

Monday was worse. You were glued to your phone at every opportunity you got, and Jake could tell by the little smile on your face that you must be talking to that asshole.

"Rodeo, how was your hot date?" Bradley asked, bumping your helmet with his while he winked at Jake.

"Pretty good," you replied with a little laugh.

"You get laid?" Mickey asked obnoxiously, and you rolled your eyes before glancing at Jake. He was dying to know the answer to the question, but also terrified to hear it.

"Wouldn't you like to know," you replied, returning your attention to your phone. "Put it this way... I'm going out with him again for dinner on Wednesday."

"Who goes to dinner on a Wednesday?" Jake scoffed. "That's when we usually go to the bar! And what did you and Tinder Tommy even talk about the whole time? Dentures? Teeth?"

"No," you snapped at him. "He told me how pretty he thinks I am, and that he was nervous to meet me in person. And his name is Tony, not Tommy. So don't be rude when we stop by the bar after dinner on Wednesday."

"Can't wait to meet him," Jake grumbled, highly disappointed that your date had been even somewhat successful. And he still wasn't sure if you'd gone home with Tony. Or worse... if he'd gone home with you.

Jake had crashed in your bed with you once a few months ago when you hosted game night. Mickey, Nat and Bradley all passed out in your living room, so you'd taken him by the hand to your bed. Every time he thought about it, he could practically feel the warmth of your body next to his and your foot hooked over his ankle. The idea of someone else there engaging in pillowtalk or fucking you just right was way too much for him to handle, because he was starting to feel like he wanted to be that person.

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

Okay, so Tony was a little boring. A lot boring, actually. And on Wednesday night at dinner, he actually did mention dentures, and you could practically hear Jake scoffing from the Hard Deck. But Tony was hot and nice and he paid for dinner. Could you really hope for more than that?

"So, you mentioned stopping at a Navy bar?" he asked as you walked back to his car. "I keep forgetting you're even in the Navy. It just doesn't seem like you."

Maybe you should have used the other photo for your dating profile since you'd had to remind him twice already that there were a lot of women in the military now. "Yeah. It's called the Hard Deck. I usually hang out there on Wednesdays, and I thought maybe my friends could meet you?"

"Sure," he replied, and he even played boring music on the way there. But when he walked you inside, he kissed your cheek, and that felt kind of nice until Jake was looking. You felt embarrassed and a little guilty when he scowled at you from the pool table, so you eased yourself away from Tony and took him by the hand instead.

"Hey, guys," you said cautiously as you approached the pool table. "This is Tony."

Jake's jaw was clenched tight as he reached out to shake hands with your date in a death grip, and you cringed as he said, "Nice to meet you, Tommy."

And it all went downhill from there. You had to correct him three times, even though you were sure he knew Tony's name. And even the other guys didn't really seem to mesh well with Tony. Bradley looked scandalized when he told them he didn't like beer or playing pool, and Mickey tried to make a dentist joke that just didn't land.

You wanted to crawl into your bed and not come back out for a week. You also kind of wanted to ask Jake what his problem was. Tony was a nice guy. His hand on your back felt nice, and his goodnight kiss at your front door was nice. There was even some tongue, and you didn't stop his roaming fingers. Maybe another date or two and you'd ask him to come in.

"Would you like to get dinner on Saturday night?" he asked as his lips grazed your neck. "At the Boathouse?"

You closed your eyes and leaned back, and the image of Jake took over. His lips were on your earlobe, and he was whispering your name as you led him to your room. His hands were settling on your hips and squeezing gently as you melted into his touch.

"What do you think?" Tony asked, and you were jarred back to reality by his voice.

You swallowed hard and nodded as you opened your door. "Saturday night sounds good," you said as you ducked inside. "See you then."

You couldn't have Jake. You just needed to get it through your head that he didn't want you like that.

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

Jake knew he was behaving poorly even as he was doing it. Tony looked annoyed by him, and you looked embarrassed, but he just kept calling him the wrong name and standing off to the side like a dick. He was actually the asshole. Not Tony. And he needed to apologize to you at work the next day.

He found you in the hangar, pacing back and forth as you played with the strap on your helmet. When you turned, he started to say, "Hey, Rodeo, I'm really-"

"I need your help," you blurted out when you saw him heading your way. "I need you to come shopping with me tomorrow after work, because I wore my only two dresses already, and everything else in my closet is ridiculous. And Tony is taking me to the Boathouse on Saturday, so I can't just throw something together and call it a day."

Jake ground his back teeth together. The Boathouse was nice. As in, he could think of at least three people he knew who got engaged there. How much money did dentists make anyway? He was full blown jealous now. He knew that. But you'd asked him for help, so of course he was going to do whatever you wanted. Your eager eyes were enough to make him agree on the spot.

"Where are we going shopping?" he asked softly.

You looked so relieved as you said, "The mall. I don't think it will take too long, and I can treat you to dinner as a thank you."

"No," he replied. "You don't owe me anything, Rodeo."

"Thanks, Jake," you whispered as you threw one arm around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. "I know I can trust you to tell me what looks good. Because you're a guy, and you know what guys like. I've been in such a rut, and I don't even know what looks nice on me anymore. But I trust your opinion."

He wrapped his arm around your waist and held you a little closer. If you trusted him, he wouldn't let you down. He never wanted to let you down. He would take you to the mall and tell you which outfits looked nice on you, even though he knew it would be all of them, and he would be cool about you dating Tony. "Sure, Rodeo. Anything you want."

When the time came, he was miserable. You seemed excited, bouncing on your feet in your jeans and sneakers as you collected dresses and cute little outfits to try on, but he knew none of this was really for him. You'd just be giving him a little sneak peak of what Tony would have his hands all over.

"How about this one?" you asked, holding up a red mini dress that made Jake's mouth dry up. Then you moved it in front of your body and looked down. "It's probably too much for me."

He wanted to tell you that you couldn't pull it off, but he knew the fucking thing was made for you. "Try it on and see," he said softly, so you added it to your pile. Then he followed you like a puppy dog to the fitting room, holding half of the dresses for you to try on. When you passed the lingerie section, Jake had to watch you grab a few lacy items. "Have you slept with Tinder Tommy yet?" he snapped when you picked up a black bra and added it to your arms.

You looked up at him with a soft pout. "Well, no. That's why I'm trying to buy some sexy stuff, you know? Just in case I want to take it there."

Jake had seen you in your bathing suit many, many times. You didn't need to be wearing anything made out of lace and silk to look sexy, but the sight of you in half of this shit would probably give Tony a damn heart attack. Then he realized as you led him along that he himself might not make it out of the fitting room alive.

"Just stand out here, okay?" you said softly, guiding him against the wall. He grunted in response and watched you line up everything you wanted to try on inside the fitting room before closing yourself inside. You kicked your shoes off, and then he watched you push your jeans down to your feet through the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. You stepped out of them, and his imagination started to supply the rest.

You were completely naked now, he was sure of that fact, and you were only a few feet away from him, separated by a flimsy door. His head tipped back against the wall as his breathing grew a little deeper. Your toenails were painted bright green, and you were talking quietly to yourself as you stepped into a black dress and started to guide it up your legs.

"This isn't too bad," you muttered, and a few seconds later you were unlatching the door and pulling it open with an apprehensive look on your face. Jake's jaw dropped open as you stepped right up to him and asked, "What do you think?"

"Rodeo," he grunted, fisting his hands at his sides to keep them from touching you as you spun slowly in front of him. "Looks good."

You frowned a little more. "I was hoping for better than good," you replied, twirling away from him and back into the fitting room.

Jake's body was thrumming with desire as he watched that black fabric pool at your feet under the door. "It was better than good, Rodeo," he said, nearly choking on the words as you stepped to the side and bent to pick it up.

"I'll try the red one," you informed him, and he had to press his lips together, knowing what was coming next. This time it took you a little longer, and he watched your feet under the door as you turned in front of the mirror. "It's really short," you finally said as you opened the door again.

"Jesus Christ," Jake moaned softly. The thing fit you like a damn glove. Every curve and soft dip of your body was right there, begging to be touched. His palms were sweaty as he wiped them on his jeans, and then you spun, ending up just inches away from him again.

He couldn't speak, and maybe you took that as a bad sign. "It's too much," you said with a little laugh. "I know it's too much, but it was fun to try it on anyway. It made me feel sexy," you said with a little shrug, barely able to meet his eyes. "I think the black one might be better for dinner at the Boathouse? Or do you think this one?"

Jake snapped out of his daze and remembered why he was here, suddenly pissed that this little fashion show wasn't just for his own benefit. "Come on, Rodeo. Tinder Tommy? Really? You think he deserves this?" When you just kind of shrugged at him, he said, "Get the red one if you're just looking to get laid."

"Okay," you replied, your little pout back on your pretty lips.

He pushed away from the wall until he was nearly touching you. Practically snarling, he said, "Are you just looking to get laid?"

"Maybe," you said softly, looking at his neck. "He's actually into me, so maybe. I don't know, Jake. It's been a long time since a guy chose me, you know?" He opened his mouth to tell you that any guy in the world would choose you when you said, "I have one more dress."

Then he had to stand there and watch the red fabric hit your feet before you guided the tiniest little green dress up your calves. He was jealous. He was so jealous. And the fact that he'd had a whole fucking year to ask you out instead of fucking wasting his time was crashing down on him right now. You were going to wear one of these dresses to the Boathouse tomorrow, and Tony was going to take it off you. He was going to fuck you, and then someday you'd probably get married. Jake would be at your wedding sitting between Mickey and Bradley and making himself sick over this whole thing.

The door opened. You were stunning. You didn't even leave the fitting room doorway this time in that green dress that was hugging your tits and your waist and showing off so much leg that Jake thought he was going to black out. "I can tell by your face that it's not good," you said with a wince. "It's a little too low cut, so I couldn't imagine wearing it in front of Tony."

His voice came out low and rough as he said, "You're wearing it in front of me just fine."

"But I don't count, remember?" You closed and locked the door, and Jake was immediately leaning against it. Literally each dress was hotter than the one before it, and Jake didn't know how to articulate what he was feeling right now. How on earth did he end up so far in the friend zone that he couldn't claw his way out if he tried? What the fuck made Tinder Tony so special? Why were you looking around on the app anyway? He couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened, but you were never going to take him seriously, even if he knew he could be what you wanted.

The rustling of fabric and the sound of the zipper had him resting his forehead on the door. "Rodeo, Baby, you can't...buy one of these dresses. Not for Tony. Okay? Come on. He's not good enough for you."

"Oh." That was all you said. You just replied with one word, and Jake's blood was boiling. He wanted to dismantle the entire fitting room and take you back home and tell you that you could do a hell of a lot better than some lame ass dentist who didn't like beer or playing pool. But you'd just muttered one word, and he was dying to know if he could ever stand a chance at making you happy.

"Rodeo?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You unlocked the door and he stepped back a few inches so you could open it, expecting to see you in your jeans once again with the dress of your choosing in your hands. "Oh, fuck," he groaned, his heart hammering in his chest. "Absolutely not!"

Jake pushed you back further into the fitting room and managed to wrench his broad shoulders through the doorway before kicking the door closed. You were biting your lip, your eyes wide as his hands came to rest on your lace covered hips.

"Jake," you whispered as he shook his head at the sight of you in a lacy black bra and tiny underwear.

"What the hell are you thinking?" he groaned, fingers digging gently into your warm body as he listened to the little sound you made. "You're killing me here." Your hands came up to his wrists before you slid them up along his arms, and Jake took a step closer until his jeans were brushing against your bare belly. He would need to be removed from the mall in a body bag at this rate.

Then you whispered, "I like you. And maybe there's a chance that you like me, too? And maybe that's part of the reason I asked you to come here with me."

Jake swallowed hard as he leaned in, dizzy from the way you smelled so sweet and felt so perfect in his hands. "Dump him. Dump Tony." You whimpered at his words as he slid one hand down further, teasing the lace covering your ass at the same time his other hand went up to tug at the side of the bra. "Because this? This should be for me."

"Jake." Your voice was a needy whine as you scraped your fingernails along his shoulders and chest, trying to pull him closer. But he shook his head as he pushed you back harder against the wall, lips hovering over yours as you whispered his name.

He knew what he wanted. He'd known for a while, really, but now he was ready to take it. "I want to kiss you. But if I do, I'm not going to be able to go back, okay?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I won't go back to being Rodeo and Hangman, just friends. I will not do that. Not with you. Not when you count more than anyone else."

Your lips crashed against his, and Jake sighed in relief as he held you in his arms the way he'd been dying to for so long. The lingerie and all the little dresses were only for him. Your kisses and your smile and your fingers in his hair were for him, not Tony. He ran his hands down to your ass as you giggled and nipped at his lips.

"Pick a dress, Baby," he muttered between kisses. "And we'll get the lingerie, too."

"Okay," you replied with a smile before you took his bottom lip between yours, making him moan.

"Tomorrow night, I will take you out, and you can show me this little getup again if you want to."

You looked up at him with the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. "I want to."

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You nudged Bradley with your elbow. "Hey, she's cute," you said, nodding toward the brunette across the aisle. "You guys should go talk to her." He and Mickey both leaned forward to look without any subtlety whatsoever, and you laughed.

"Maybe at the end of the inning," Bradley replied, manspreading so much in his seat at the Padres game that he kept bumping your leg and nudging your shoulder. But he was grinning, and you could already tell that he and Mickey were about to turn it into a competition to see who could get her phone number first.

But there was one key player missing from their game now, and you smiled as you saw Jake apologetically climbing over everyone else in your row before plopping down into the seat next to you and kissing your cheek with a smile. "The line was long as hell for your favorite beer," he said as he handed it to you. "Did I miss anything?"

You shook your head as Bradley said, "You're just in time to watch the real show, Hangman. Rodeo, I want you to time how long it takes before I get her number."

But you weren't really listening as Bradley and Mickey started to argue, and neither was Jake as he kissed your cheek again. You didn't feel like you were simply blending in, and you didn't feel like you were just one of the guys anymore. You were grinning and sipping your beer as Jake's lips met your ear and he asked, "Are you wearing that black set right now?"

"I'll let you find out later.

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@blahehblah

Happy birthday, Alli! I hope you enjoyed the blonde one! Big thanks to @mak-32 @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for all your help!

Read Bradley's version in Whole Lotta Love

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@seriouslyseresin

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@katiebby04

@anotherr-fine-mess

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

@bringnattolife

@xoxabs88xox

@djs8891

@hufflepufftruffle

@cottagecori

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dearsnow · 4 months ago

Text

TAKE A BITE

- your best friends challenge you to bring the hottest guy at the bar home, and you can’t manage to say no. (jake “hangman” seresin x fem!reader, random original female characters for plot purposes, ⚠️ alcohol, 18+!! adult content, p in v, jake being a sweetheart for once, I’M BEGGING PLEASE BE 18)

word count: 3,033

a/n - dipping my toe into the adult writing scene for once 😚 i have no idea if this is good or not bc my only experience is one commission i did a long time ago and a half-finished fic from a year ago, so i hope it’s satisfactory. jake is also an unexpected visitor but everyone has their moments <3

“So…” Kaiya drawls, drawing along the rim of her condensation-covered glass, “because no one here seems to want to put themselves out there,” there’s a pointed glance at you, “I propose a challenge.”

Sandy squints at her suspiciously. Kaiya always comes up with the most outrageous schemes, usually drawing in you and the rest of your friend group. “What are you thinking?” She asks.

Kaiya’s manicured nail taps on the table. “We each pick a guy, one that individual thinks is the hottest at the bar— first come first serve, of course. And then we take them home. Anyone that’s successful gets next week’s drinks paid for by the rest of us.”

You roll your eyes. She’s a looker, for sure, which is likely the only reason she proposed something like this. She could get with any guy in a hundred mile radius with her luscious black curls and babydoll cheeks. “Are you sure you aren’t just doing this because you don’t want to pay for yourself?”

Kaiya puts one hand to her mouth, eyes widened in comical horror. “I would never! I just want what’s best for my dear friends.” She exclaims, batting her eyes. Sandy laughs in her own charming way. Sandy is cute, sweet. She’d also have no problem taking her pick.

“I want that one.” Kaiya says, pointing at a tall man with shortly cropped curls. From the looks of it, he’s exactly her type; confident, quick-witted, and evidently skilled as he nails a dart throw.

Sandy pretends to squint around the bar before throwing a thumb over her freckled shoulder. “Buzz cut. I like that in a man.” You peer around her, taking in a nice-looking guy with tanned skin.

“And you?” Kaiya asks, reaching out to thumb at the strap of your top. Her small look of concern makes you remember why you’re her friend in the first place.

She’s always looking out for you, always finding opportunities for you to shine when she is so obviously the star. After you broke up with your boyfriend for some unsavory reasons, she resumed her role as your rock. Even now, she wants you to get over what’s in the past. You curse yourself for even considering that she was being selfish.

You look around the crowded bar, eyes scanning over heaps of mildly attractive Navy and civilian men. You’re about to just pick the closest one before your gaze stops on a person who almost immediately takes your breath away. He’s exactly, exactly what you pictured your dream guy to look like.

Kaiya follows your line of sight and smiles. “Let’s get them, tigers.”

“Alright,” You say, standing as your chair creaks from under you, “I’ll take a bite.”

You lean against the cool counter of the bar, smiling at the bartender. The man you picked out has a beer in his hand and a certain swagger in how he scopes out the room. “Could I have one of those, please?” You ask the woman behind the bar, looking pointedly at the guy. She looks at you with a knowing smile, handing you the drink.

“You have good taste.” Your pick says, his voice heavy with a drawl. His green eyes glance down at the drink in your hand, then up to your face. You swear you almost see him lick his lips.

“So do you.” You respond simply. “What’s your name?”

“Jake, but if one of those idiots asks, it’s Hangman.” He nods over to a group of men by the pool table. In a passing flash, you notice the two your friends picked out mingling. How could this one squad have so many attractive people? “I saw you with your friends a bit ago. I have to say, though, you’re more my type. Not that they aren’t nice girls.”

You take a sip of your drink, eyebrows quirked. His arms are basically bulging out of his Navy attire, and you struggle to keep your eyes off of them. Decidedly, you try teasing him, pushing the boundaries of flirting. “You’re my type too. More than the one with the mustache, but he’s not so bad.”

His smile crinkles his eyes, and you think you might swoon. This is good, you tell yourself. It feels good. It’s a bit awkward, with just the slightest bit of tension, but you’re warming up; you just got out of a relationship for god’s sake.

“Trust me, sugar, however good you think he is, I’m better.” He punctuates his sentence with a wink.

You’re drop dead gorgeous, he thinks. Jake meets gorgeous women every day, but not one has made his heart beat just as fast. When you smile up at him through your lashes, he’s done for. Locked, loaded, and done for.

“You’re that confident, hm?” You muse, setting your beer down on the counter. It took a great deal of complacency to not throw yourself at him and wrap yourself in his large hands. He swipes a bead of water off of your bottle, and you think all sorts of things. His fingers dripping, his face hot and sweaty, his hair messed up… you almost melt at the idea. “I think you’re going to have to prove it.”

He holds an arm out to you, and you graciously accept. “I’ll prove it in a million ways, pretty girl. Dance with me and see for yourself.”

Jake leads you to a small area by the jukebox. His palms skim over your waist, pulling you closer but still leaving you aching for more. A song starts playing, one you don’t recognize, but he seems to know exactly how to move to it.

If you’re being totally honest, he’s a really good dancer. And it’s so hot, unbearably so. He doesn’t step on your feet, and he leads your every step without being overpowering. Every song, you seem to get closer and closer until your chest is basically pressed right up against his, and he can still move gracefully.

“How’s this for proof?” He whispers, lips grazing over the shell of your ear. “Rooster’s got moves, but he isn’t half as good as me.”

You push back on his chest gently, raising your eyebrows. “Now I’m starting to think this is just a ploy to get him jealous. Does mustache man get on your nerves that much?” You grin as he takes your hands in his. He rolls his eyes.

“I got the cutest girl in the room all to myself. Who wouldn’t be jealous? The only ploy here is the one where I try and get you to come home with me.”

Your teeth find purchase in your bottom lip, trying to hide your ever-growing smile. You might be getting free drinks more than once. “Buy me a drink and we’ll see how that works out.”

To his credit, Jake seems completely okay with getting to know you before heading out. The conversation is engaging, studded with flirting and genuine curiosity. It’s like he’s hanging on to every word you say, truly attempting to form any sort of connection. Most guys wouldn’t make this effort for a one night stand, especially not someone who looks like they could have a new one every night.

To say he’s beyond saving is an understatement in Jake’s opinion. With every second that goes by, you’re sounding more and more like his dream girl. You like his beer, his favorite place to eat, and you share a few of his hobbies. It’s like a match made in heaven.

As the night progresses, guilt starts eating at the hem of your shirt. The drinks are running low, and the sky is growing dim, and the opportunity to fulfill your challenge is opening up more with every second that ticks by. Do you really want this amazing guy to be a bet?

He stands to leave, offering a hand to help you slip off your bar stool. “Shall we?”

Your hesitation makes him falter just a bit. Jake would be okay with waiting, if he was being honest. Yeah, he’s been semi hard the entire time you ran your finger up and down your drink absentmindedly, but he could take you out on a real date first. One where you stare at him with those pretty eyes and smile your captivating smile.

The feeling takes over as you take in his willingness. “I have something to admit.” You murmur, almost too quiet to pick up over the din of the bar. Luckily for you, he has great hearing.

“Lay it on me, sweet thing. I can take it.” He grins. Your hands find the edges of your shorts and play with the little string on the seam that you’ve been meaning to cut for a few days now.

“I made a stupid agreement with my friends that if I took home the guy I thought was the hottest at the bar, then they’d pay for my drinks next time.” You blurt out. His eyes widen slightly, sending a pang of anxiety through you, before his lips curl up into a smile.

He takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders, spinning you towards the entrance of the bar. “Well, we wouldn’t want a nice girl like you to pay for her own drinks, huh?”

You arrive at your small house and fumble with the lock while Jake presses hot kisses to your neck. You’re biting back a whimper as the door finally swings open, walking short, hurried steps into the bedroom. His hands are all over you, burning like fire. They’re gripping at your shirt, your waist, the column of your throat, your upper thigh— anywhere he can get ahold of. You pull off your shirt as the back of your knees hit the soft mattress.

Before you can blink, Jake has taken off his shirt too, and his hands are kneading the bottom of your breasts, beneath your lacy bra. “You sure?” He asks. You nod vigorously, unhooking your straps with your fingers, but he just looks down disapprovingly. “With your words, baby.”

“Yes.” You breathe. With that confirmation, he wastes no time.

Your clothes are tossed to some unknown corner of your room. You couldn’t care less about where they ended up, not when Jake is running his fingers over your hardening nipples.

He ghosts over them with just enough pressure to get you cursing. He’s hardly done anything and you can still feel a wetness gathering between your legs. When he moves up, taking your left nipple in his mouth, his bare thigh pressing between yours, a gasp escapes your mouth.

“That good?” He asks. His low voice sends vibrations up your chest, and you utter a quiet confirmation. He pays some attention to your other breast as you practically grind against his thigh, desperate for any sort of friction where you need it most.

He gives you a playful sigh, looking down at your writhing body. You look gorgeous, and knowing that his slight touches are enough to make you squirm is the ego boost of the century. Your eyelashes give a slight flutter at his next words. “Patience. I’ll give you what you want eventually, don’t worry.” His hand slips down and squeezes your thigh encouragingly.

“Now, Jake, please.” You almost whine. It’s embarrassing how well he seems to figure out your body. Even now, he’s kissing his way down your neck, finding every place that heightens your growing arousal. You hook your legs around his waist and rest your arms on the sides of his neck. “I want what I want now.”

It’s amazing how quickly your words travel to his dick. Jake’s roaringly hard, and you can feel it pressing against your inner thigh. You rub your legs up and down, teasing, drawing the most beautiful groan out of his open mouth. You’re going to be the death of him, he thinks.

“You drive a hard bargain, darlin’, and I’m not one to refuse.”

His hands travel down your body, taking time to caress your sides and send shivers up your spine. When he finally reaches the puddle under you, he quirks his eyebrows. “That excited?”

You roll your eyes at him, even though all he can see is the slightest movement of your face. “Get on with it, cowboy.”

He chuckles and places a small kiss on your hipbone. “Yes ma’am.”

He slips one finger inside you, pulling a soft noise from your swollen lips. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts. “Might take you a bit to get used to me.” He curls the finger gently, and you see stars as it brushes up against the spot inside of you that you can’t reach yourself. He’s bigger, stronger, longer, wider. A second finger joins the first, the digits stretching you deliciously.

A pressure begins to build in your stomach as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing gentle circles. Ah, fuck, he knows what he’s doing. Your hips buck up slightly on top of your mattress, pressing your core into the palm of his hand. “Please.” You squeak.

He frowns, but his pupils are blown up in pure ecstasy. “Well excuse me for trying to give you a good time.” His free hand moves to pinch the curve of your ass lightly. You sit up fully and trail your nails down his back, reveling in the shiver it draws from him. With one smooth motion, you take his cock in your hand and give him a small stroke that has him jolting in his place.

“We can both have a good time if you would put on a condom and fuck me already.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop and consider how needy they sound. They seem to work, though, as he smirks at you and guides your hand up and down his length.

“I’m guessing your dresser drawer is ready for stuff like this?” He asks. You feel your face grow warmer at exactly how right he is as you slide the drawer open and grab one. “Ah, you’ve even got my size. What a responsible girl you are.” His voice comes out as a half laugh, and you try to stifle your own laughter with the palm of your hand.

“I like to be prepared.”

“Might as well throw the smaller ones away after tonight. You’ll only want mine when I’m done with you.” He’s so cocky it’s funny instead of off-putting. You hand him the condom and he rolls it over himself. He has a right to be cocky, you think, with a body like that. All taut muscle and chest hair. When he brings his hand up to the back of your neck to lower you down on your bed, your heart gives a mighty flutter.

“Prove it.” You say, for the second time that night. He gives you a look that says he’s going to prove it more than once, over and over until you’re begging him to keep proving it, then a bit more after that.

Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his tip pressing into your warm entrance. As he pushes forwards slowly, teasingly, you’re suddenly aware of just how big he is. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever felt, and despite how wet you’ve become, it’s a lot to handle. You wince as his length stretches you, waiting for the feeling to shift from uncomfortable to ungodly good.

“You bit off more than you can chew, didn’t you?” Jake teases. “We can stop if you want, just say the word.”

Your steady voice challenges him as you try to pull it together. “Keep going. I can take it.”

He doesn’t know how, but Jake gets impossibly harder. He indulges you, though, leaving small kisses on your cheeks to distract you from the pinching pain. Once he’s completely bottomed out, you breathe a sigh of relief. Then, of course, you notice that it feels good. Really good.

He’s pressed right up against a spot that has you seeing stars, and when he moves, slowly at first, the drag forces a moan from deep in your throat. You feel so full, so complete. His pace picks up, and you close your eyes.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good.” He praises, voice strained. The movement of his hips is delicious. Smooth, quick, deep. When his fingers find his way to your clit, you almost finish right then and there.

You’re panting, breath coming out in hot waves against the nape of Jake’s neck. He shivers at the feeling, pressing closer to you to soak in more of that warmth. “Jake, I’m- I’m gonna…” you trail off, closing your mouth as another whimper tries to sneak out.

“Go for it, sweetness. Let me hear that pretty voice.”

With one, two, three more strokes, you feel the knot within you beginning to unravel. Your nails rake down his sides, one of his hands is gripping your waist and the other is firmly attached to your bundle of nerves, and his mouth is suddenly on yours, muffling your noises. It’s overwhelming. With one sharp gasp, you clench down hard and come undone.

Jake follows soon after as he pulls out with a groan. The sound falls heavily on your blissed-out ears.

You sit up, taking his face in your hand. “You’ve proved it. Oh, and I’m officially tonight’s lucky winner.” You say with a beaming smile. He scoffs lightly.

“You were a winner the minute you stepped into that bar.” He winks at you as your hand moves down to rest on his collarbone. “Just let me join in on your winnings when you cash out.”

“In your dreams, cowboy. The most you’ll get is a beer or two before my friends take their cards away.”

He blows a little air out of the side of his mouth before collapsing onto your bed like he owns it, pulling you into his arms. “I’ll take what I can get if it means I can see you again.”

You sigh happily, snuggling into his chest. “Is that a promise?”

“Sure is. The Hard Deck, next Friday. Bring your friends and we’ll figure it out from there.”

Taglist: @seitmai

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lulunothulu · 4 months ago

Text

“A Bullseye to the Heart” (Ch. 1)

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Latina Reader

Blurb: You were once the best female pilot at Top Gun. That was until a mission ended very badly. Now, 3 years later, you're somewhat healed and dating a man who takes advantage of your trauma. Now, you work at Hard Deck, the closest you could allow yourself to Top Gun, when your old friends come back... including a new guy you don't know; and to say he's intrigued by you is an understatement. But when your boyfriend decides to lay hands on you in front of him and your friends, all hell breaks loose.

Contents: Domestic Abuse, Swearing, bar fight, some fluff(??)

Word count: 3,160

I hope you all enjoy! I'll try to update it as much as I can.

Chapter 1

You never thought you would step foot in Hard Deck after everything that happened two years ago, never mind work there. It was oddly comforting and your therapist said it could help with the trauma you endured. So when Penny gave you a job as a bartender and server, you jumped at the opportunity.

Anything to be close to something you once loved.

You’re in the middle of cleaning out the dirty dishes bin when you hear the creaking of someone walking into the bar.

“We’re closed,” you say. “Come back at 8.”

“Oh, I’m not here for a drink,” a man’s voice says. “I’m here to see Penny. Is she in?”

You turn toward the voice to see a man in a leather jacket with multiple patches usually worn by naval aviators. His dark hair is perfectly styled and when he takes off a pair of aviator glasses, he exposes his hazel eyes.

“You must be Pete,” you said with a smile. “She told me you’d be coming around. She’s in the her office if you wanna go back there.”

He nods and makes his way toward the back of the bar. He stops at the entrance before turning to face you with a soft smile. “I’m glad you’re back, Y/L/N.”

Startled, you ask, “How do you know my name?”

“I work at Top Gun. I’ve heard stories and seen your pictures all over the place.” Pete smiles before turning serious and adding, “I really am glad you’re back. Admiral Simpson told me a lot of great things when he was your instructor.”

You take a deep but shaky breath before nodding, lips pulled tight before you say, “Thank you.”

You eye his jacket to see his rank and frown. “Captain?”

“Yeah, Captain.” Pete nods. When your brow lifts, he adds, “It’s a long story.”

“I’ll look forward to hearing it,” you smile.

“I have a new class starting up today, maybe you’ll see some of my guys,” he says. “You may see some familiar faces.”

And with that, Pete walks into Penny’s office, leaving you reeling and wondering who you’ll see later.

* * *

Later that night, Hard Deck is packed with Naval Aviators and civilians. It’s loud, chaotic, and joyful for the most part. People are playing pool, throwing darts, and having a great time getting drunk.

It reminds you of the good old days, back when you weren’t traumatized and living with an abusive man.

You’ve just finished putting a couple of beers in front of a group of civilians when you hear someone call your name.

“Y/N!”

You turn just in time to see Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, smiling ear to ear with his signature mustache sitting on his top lip.

“Rooster!” You exclaim. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Yeah, I’ve been assigned here for the next couple of months, some sort of mission. You know how that is,” he drawls, smiling to himself. He looks you up and down before saying, “You look good, y/n.”

You’re wearing a simple black, V-neck shirt with a pair of jeans and Converse. The compliment makes you smile and wave his comment off. “I’m sure you tell all the girls that.”

“Nope,” he smiles. “Just you.”

“So what’re you having, and how many?” you ask.

“I’ll have seven of your lovely beers,” he chuckles. “You should come over to the pool tables, Phoenix would love to see you.”

“My girl is here?” You ask excitedly.

“Of course. I’ll send her over for the next round,” Rooster says, watching as you expertly open all six of the beers quickly. “What time are you off?”

You check your AppleWatch before saying, “In about two hours.”

“Come meet us over there when you’re off,” Rooster smiles, pointing at the pool table across the way. “And Y/N, I’m glad you’re back in some way. We’ve missed you.”

“Thanks, Roo. I guess I’ve missed you.”

You watch as he walks off, noting the people he approaches. Phoenix practically breaks her neck looking in your direction, Coyote, Fanboy, Payback, and Bob smile and wave; and there’s another guy there you don’t recognize. He has sandy blonde hair, tanned skin, and an award-winning smile. From the bar, you can see his green eyes sliding over your body, checking you out. You cross your arms over your chest and cock a brow in question. When he waves at you with a cocky grin, you have to fight a smile from forming on your face.

It was cute but you’re taken.

Unfortunately.

You’ve been dating Nick Abernathy for the past year or two and while it was very fun and loving in the beginning, now you can’t stand to look him in the eye.

Not after what happened the last time you were at Top Gun. And especially not after how he reacted and treated you everyday after.

Speaking of the devil, you hear your boyfriend, call out your name to the left. “Y/N!”

You turn to see Nick, the man you once loved so much, smiling down at you. He’s all blonde hair and dark brown eyes, broad shouldered, and muscules; a naval pilot.

Your type. Again, unfortunately.

“What’s my favortie lady doing looking at those aviators?” he asks. To the untrained ear, it sounds like he’s being playful. But you know the truth, and you know you’ll hear–and feel–it later.

“Just some old buddies of mine,” you tell him.

“Right,” he says, eyes narrowing. He moves a hand, reaching out to grip your wrist. “I’ll be waiting to take you home after your shift.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him, smiling sweetly to hide the growing dread in your chest.

“What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t drive my girlfriend home?” Nick seethes, looking beyond you. “Besides, I don’t like the way those aviators are looking at you.”

You turn your head toward where you know Rooster and the rest of the aviator group watch the interaction. Their faces are all hard, ready to defend at your ‘okay’. You send them a small wave and reassuring smile before turning back to Nick who is now practically red in anger.

“They’re just friends,” You tell him, fear begins to prickle all over your body. “I met them when I was at Top Gun.”

Before Nick can say anything, Penny comes into view, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Hey, can you stay another couple of hours? Pete wants to take me out and I can’t close early tonight.”

Relief fills you immediately when you reply, “Yeah, I can stay until closing.”

“Good,” Penny smiles. Then, as if seeing Nick for the first time, says to him, “Don’t worry about picking her up. I saw her drive here.”

Nick’s jaw clentches before he smiles, drops your arm, and responds, “Oh, I must’ve gotten confused.”

He turns to you before saying, “I’ll see you at home.”

Penny stays by your side until Nick finally leaves before turning you to face her and saying, “Go clock out. I’ll take it from here.”

“I thought you were–”

“I told him that so he would leave you alone,” Penny states, rubbing your shoulder. “Go catch up with Rooster and the gang. Just stay until closing so I can follow you home.”

“Thanks, Penny.”

You turn to leave, smiling to yourself and looking at the ground, when you feel someone’s eyes on you again. You glance in the direction of where Rooster and the rest of them are to find the green-eyed aviator that was checking you out before, staring.

Creep.

You clock out before grabbing a beer from Penny and making your way toward the group.

“Hey!” Phoenix exclaims at the sight of you walking closer. Then, pulling you into a bear hug, says, “Come here, Bullseye! I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Nat.” You smile, smoothing her hair when she pulls away.

“Bullseye?” the green-eyed aviator asks, Texan accent drawling and sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re looking at the most badass female aviator I’ve ever met,” Phoenix tells him. “The best at shooting too.”

“Is that why your call-sign is Bullseye?” he asks you.

You square your shoulders before smirking and replying, “Yes.”

“I’ll spoil it for you,” Rooster laughs. “She’s terrible at darts.”

“First of all, I was drunk!” you exclaim with a laugh. “I would’ve gotten that bullseye if you hadn’t bumped into me!”

“Mhmm, blame the alcohol,” Rooster teases.

“So, Y/N, who was that guy you were talking to?” Coyote asks.

“Yeah, didn’t look like a good conversation,” Bob adds.

“Um, my boyfriend, Nick,” you respond, feeling Green Eyes stare at you. “Soon-to-be ex.”

“Why soon-to-be?” Fanbooy asks.

“Just,” you trail off. “We fell apart.”

“Didn’t look that way from our angle,” Green Eyes mutters.

“I’m sorry,” You say, turning toward him. “Who are you?”

Green Eyes grins before outstretching a hand and saying, “Jake Seresin, Hangman. You can choose what you call me.”

“Hangman?” you ask, quirking a brow. “Like the game?”

“The one and only,” he responds coyly.

“You’re looking at the only naval aviator with one confirmed air-to-air kill,” Phoenix tells you. “He’s also a dickhead.”

“Oh, stop. You’re being too sweet,” Hangman grins. He turns toward the bar and frowns. “Isn’t that your soon-to-be ex?”

Your spine stiffens. You don’t have to turn to know that Nick is standing at the bar, eyeing you from one of the barstools. Your eyes widen when you see him throw back a shot of what you know is whiskey. He turns aggressive when he drinks so this should be fun.

“You okay there, Y/L/N?” Phoenix asks.

“I have to go,” You say, starting to walk toward him. However, you feel a hand on your arm and turn to see Rooster looking down at you, concern written all over his face.

“You’re not going over there alone,” he tells you. Turning to the group, he tells them, “We’re with her, I don’t like the way he grabbed her the last time he was in here.”

The group give affirming nods, all except Hangman.

“I’ve got this,” you tell Rooster. “He’s harmless.”

You knew it was a lie as soon as it left your lips and so did Rooster. His dark brown eyes narrow on you before he takes a swig of his beer and says, “We’ll be close by.”

You curtly nod before cracking your neck and handing Phoenix your beer. So much for relaxing.

You make the short walk to where Nick sits at the bar, feeling Penny’s eyes half on you and on another customer. Behind, you can feel the gaze of your friends as they watch you stand before Nick.

“What’re you doing?” You ask.

“I was about to ask the same thing,” he says. “See, I called the Hard Deck line and they told me you had clocked out. But I remember Penny telling me that you were staying until closing.”

“Nick–”

“Don’t,” he orders. “We’re going home. Now.”

“I don’t think so,” You boldly announce.

You’re just as surprised as Nick by the looks of it, so when he aggressively grabs your jaw and brings you close, you lock up completely.

“That wasn’t a request, Y/N,” Nick tells you darkly. His face is hard, you glance down at his hand by his hips and see that it’s clenched tightly.

“Nick,” You start. “Let’s just go. Let’s not do this here.”

“Why not? You don't want your buddies to see how much of a cunt you are?” he spits. “Let them see what happens when you try to act like you’re single.”

“You’re hurting me,” You softly say. Nick scoffs before frowning at something behind you.

Not something, but a couple of somethings.

“Let her go,” you hear Hangman say. His Texan charm all the way off and threatening.

“This has nothing of concern to you,” Nick spits.

“How about you let her go, and we won’t beat the shit out of you,” Phoenix says, her hand on your lower back in comfort.

Nick obeys, pushing you to the left and into the bar top harshly before taking a few steps toward Phoenix. You turn, watching as Phoenix stands her ground, not flinching when Nick tries too scare her by flinching forward. Rooster comes between the two of them, almost touching Nick’s nose with his own. The bar falls silent, all eyes on the interaction.

“Roos,” You start. “It’s fine. I’ll go home with him.”

“No,” Rooster says to you, eyes glued on Nick. “You’re staying with Phoenix until he leaves your apartment.”

“Rooster, I can–”

“That wasn’t a request, Y/n,” he booms. To Nick, he says, “Here’s whats gonna happen. You’re gonna leave and start packing your shit. When she comes home tomorrow, and we’ll be there to confirm, you’ll be out of there and her life for god. Got it?”

Nick smiles before tapping Rooster’s chest, hard. “So you were the one she used to fuck when she was an aviator. Tell me, Rooster, do you think she’ll open her pretty legs for you again?”

Rooster only smiles back before turning to his left where Fanboy and Coyote stand near you. “Get Y/N to the pool tables.”

Before they can grab you, Nick reaches out and squeezes your wrist tight before pulling you close to him. “You’ll have to peel her off me.”

“Let her go, I’ve called the police to remove you,” Penny says from behind the bar. “Your Captain won’t be happy to receive a call from jail.”

Nick clenches his jaw before slowly letting your wrist go and pushing you an arms length away. Before you have time to run into Coyote’s arms, Nick’s fist is flying toward your face in slow motion. When it finally makes contact with your cheek, you stumble, falling into someone’s arms and being dragged back before all hell breaks loose.

The bar is filled with shouting and the sound of glass shattering. And yet, all you can focus on is the way Rooster, Coyote, and Payback block Nick from rushing toward you. You’re so engrained on the commotion before you, you don’t hear when Hangman calls out your name.

Jake was a lot of things, but a hero was not on his roster. As soon as he saw Nick hit you, he went into full-on hero mode, pulling you into him and rushing you both to the pool tables. The look of shock paints your face as he watches you stare at the commotion before you.

I’m in deep shit if she wants to go over there because I’m not letting her out of my arms.

“Hey,” Hangman soothes. “Y/N, was it?”

You snap your head toward him and he has to fight to keep from sucking in a breath. Up close, you were gorgeous, even with that shiner growing on your left eye.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” You say, realizing who you’re sitting on and then standing from his lap. “I have to get over there.”

Hangman knew you’d say that so he stands with you, and shakes his head. “No, I don’t think Rooster would like that very much.”

“Well, it’s a good thing Rooster isn’t here,” You tease before breaking for a sprint. Only, you don’t go far because Hangman has his arms around your waist in seconds.

“You’re a slippery one aren’t you?”

“I just want to get Nick out of here,” You whisper.

Hangman searches your eyes, sensing every ounce of truth radiating from them. Matching you, he whispers, “Rooster’s got it handled.”

“Are you okay, Y/N?” You both hear Rooster say it but you don’t dare turn your heads toward him. Hangman’s eyes search yours again, wanting you to say something.

“I can take you to my apartment if you’d like,” Phoenix says to you.

You finally turn away from Hangman’s intense gaze and push away lightly. “Yeah, I think that would be best.”

“Penny said to leave your car here by the way,” Bob says, looking between you and Hangman.

“Sounds good,” you respond, turning to walk away with Natasha, arms linked. Before you both completely walk out of Hard Deck, you turn around to see Jake already staring with longing eyes.

Something about it makes you shiver and pull Nat closer.

* * *

Jake watches as you turn back around and smile at something Phoenix said, wondering what it was that made you smile. He turns to Rooster, who’s givinghim the most sly grin he’d ever seen.

“You like, Y/N,” Rooster states.

“You’re not wrong,” he admits. “She seems so familiar. Have I met her before this?”

“You’ve probably seen her picture all over Top Gun,” Coyote tells him.

“Wait where?”

“Oh, you know, the main entrance,” Bob says. “Literally in the classrooms… do you not pay attention to the walls?”

“She’s been through a lot,” Fanboy mutters before taking a sip of his beer.

“What do you mean by that?” Hangman asks. When he sees the others give warning looks, he adds, “What happened?”

Rooster sighs before taking a swig of his beer. “You remember that aviator that went missing a few years back?”

“The one they found half dead?” Jake asks. “Yeah?”

“That was Bullseye,” Bob quietly tells him.

“She was–” Jake had to stop himself from speaking. Anger and sadness filled is chest at the thought of what may or may not have happened to you.

“Yeah man,” Payback says, clapping Jake’s shoulder. “That anger you feel right now? That was us when we found out it was her.”

“She’s never told us what happened, not even Nat.” Rooster tells them. “It’s like she just shut that out. What we do know is that she never stepped foot on a tarmac ever again.”

“She couldn’t bear to sit in the box again either,” Coyote adds. “She had a full panic attack as soon as the glass went down. Rooster here had to carry her out.”

Rooster nods. “So whatever you’re thinking of doing with her, don’t.”

At that, Jake recoiled and frowned. “What makes you think I wanted to–”

“C’mon, Jake. I saw the way you look at her when she and Phoenix walked out,” Rooster drawls. “Y/N is the closest thing I have to a sister, so just please. If you do try to get with her, don’t. And if you manage to actually succeed, don’t push her. She’s strong but she can only take so much.”

Jake only nods.

His mind is swirling with questions he’s too afraid to ask.

What happened to you that made you so terrified to be in the box? Why were you with that asshole if you had so much trauma? Was Nick just a coping mechanism of sorts?

When was he going to see you again? And why does the though of seeing you again make his heart warm?

Hangman didn't know the answers, but he damn sure wanted to find out.

Next part

#glen powell #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #hangman x reader #hangman x latina reader #latina reader #glen powell x reader #fanfic

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sometimesanalice · 1 year ago

Text

Hey, Sailor

Summary: It’s Fleet Week and Rooster would rather be anywhere else than on the flight deck of the USS Portland. That is, until a pretty thing in a sundress catches his eye and then suddenly his day is looking up.

Pairing: Bradley”Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.8K

Warnings: Flirty Banter, Smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in Summer Whites (Minors DNI)

Note: When @roosterforme asks you to write her a Fleet Week fic, you write the Fleet Week fic! Here you go, Em! 💛

Normally, Rooster loved Fleet Week.

He loved the lively atmosphere and the parades. He loved the free drinks that were handed to him as soon as he entered a bar. And he especially loved all the attention he got from women when he wore his Summer Whites.

He usually came back to the ship looking less than pristine with lipstick on the collar of his uniform and hidden on other places on his body.

The USS Portland was teaming with excited families and camera-happy civilians taking in the sights from deck of the transport ship as they settled in for the five-hour journey to the San Diego. It was a Fleet Week tradition to welcome people aboard for an immersive experience, picking them up from a port further up North and then cruising along the coast before making their final docking for the week.

There were grills set up on the deck and the smell of flame kissed hamburgers and hotdogs mixed with the sea salt air. The sun was shining and the mood was light.

But this year, Rooster simply could not be bothered to give a fuck.

Especially not when he could have been home already instead of being stuck giving tours on a ship that he’d never even stepped foot on prior to three days ago when he and Hangman had been given orders to join in the procession on the vessel into the city after completing a short training deployment.

His superiors had okay-ed the terrible suggestion from some random Public Relations Specialist who clearly didn’t realize that he had better things to do with his time.

Early that morning, Bradley had stood on the dock with his arms crossed and wearing an impassive scowl as they had lifted his Super Hornet onto the flight deck like it was some kind of decorative hood ornament.

Sure, it was fun to watch the kids’ eyes get wide with excitement as they ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the features as he pointed them out, but he was getting hot and uncomfortable in his uniform in the mid-afternoon sun on the black tarmac.

He’d rather be in his service khakis like Seresin. Or better yet, naked at home in his own bed.

How Hangman had weaseled himself onto barbecue duty with a beer in his hand, Rooster would never know. The bastard probably played his Texan sir, I came out of the womb grilling shtick.

And every time he passed by the son of a bitch would give him a cocky salute with his tongs.

Jake was irritating on the best day, but today he was downright insufferable.

And he knew it had everything to do with the fact that Hangman’s girlfriend was laughing and lingering at his side, having surprised him by flying in with tickets for the coastal cruise.

At least someone was having a nice time, because it sure as shit wasn’t him.

Rooster was in the process of wrapping up his fourth tour of the day and handing out a couple of Dixie Cup hats to kids on the landing deck on the stern when he was stopped dead in his tracks and had to do a double take because he eyes were definitely playing tricks on him.

You were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

And he swore for a minute time slowed down as you flashed the most gorgeous smile at some Junior Officer as you laughed along with whatever undoubtedly stupid joke he’d told you. All while the wind played with the ends of your hair.

You looked like such nice girl, such a good girl in your pretty light blue sundress.

The sun was bouncing off your shoulders and the little ruffle at the hem was taunting him with the way it danced around your thighs. It coasted over your curves like water, and fit you just snug enough that there wouldn’t be any Marilyn Monroe moments on deck, much to his disappointment. But the blow was cushioned by the stunning display of your smooth, shapely legs.

From the way your breasts bounced as you walked, he knew there was no way in hell you had a bra on under that little dress.

He’s never been able to resist a bad girl wrapped up like the girl-next-door.

From the second he saw you, he knew you were just his type.

And for the first time that day Bradley is grateful to be wearing the crisp, pressed Summer Whites.

He knew how good his biceps looked in the short sleeves of his uniform. And the way his pants clung to his legs and ass. He’d been spending a lot of his free time in the gym lately and it showed.

He never did mind playing An Officer and a Gentleman when the occasion presented itself, he was always happy to help fuel some fantasies.

The last time he had worn this uniform out during Fleet Week he ended up going home with an absolute smokeshow, so hopefully whatever appeal his uniform had for him back then can still work for him now.

Fleet Week was finally looking up for him.

However, what he didn’t like was the fact that the butterbar was still dominating your attention.

He wanted that smile turned on him. Wanted to see if the look in your bright eyes would be just as playful with your gaze pinned on him instead. He wanted to be the one making you laugh.

It’s not like he’s going to go over there and lick your face like a kid might try and claim dibs on a cupcake.

No, he was going to act in accordance to his rank and station as an Officer in the United States Navy.

Securing the white cap on his head from where it’s been tucked under his arm at every opportunity he’s had that day, he straightens up to his full height and purposefully struts over to you.

Bradley’s never been one to shy away from making an entrance.

He forcefully taps the younger officer’s shoulder, and glances down when the guy turns around to get a look at his name tag.

“Ensign Hubbard, you’re up for civilian tour duties. The next one is due to start at 1400,” he looks down at his watch for dramatic effect, “Which is in about 10 minutes on the starboard bow, so you best get going if you don’t want to be late, junior.”

He might feel a little guilty for springing this on the kid if it wasn’t entirely within his right to assign him the nonexistent task 684 feet in the opposite direction- a fact he learned in preparation for giving tours all day- and away from you.

Especially when he sees how flustered the guy gets as he rushes through his salute and the stammered apologies he gives you before he takes off in a brisk jog heading towards the other side of the ship.

He stands up a bit taller and makes himself a bit broader as your eyes sweep over him.

“Apologies for interrupting, ma’am. But I’d be happy to pick up where the Ensign has left off.”

There’s no missing the appraising interest in them as you take him in.

“The tours are starting at the front of the ship now, are they?” you muse out loud with a little tilt of your head. “What are all those folks over there are lining up for then, I wonder?”

You point deliberately to the group of people who are currently being greeted by the Lieutenant who was scheduled to relieve Rooster of tour duties for the next hour.

“Mm, that sure is a mystery. But Hubbard seems like a smart kid, I wouldn’t worry too much about him.” He shrugs with an unapologetic smirk on his face.

You lift a pointed eyebrow at him.

“So, you sent him away…” the almost-but-not-quite question trailing in the breeze.

“I sent him away,” he readily agrees with a nod. His eyes catch on a golden heart-shaped locket that you’re wearing around that dainty neck as it glints in the sunlight.

A smug smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you notice where his eyes have dropped too, “You’re not even going to deny it, Sailor?”

“Nope,” he says with a grin. “And actually, it’s Lieutenant Commander.”

“Ok, Lieutenant.”

“Commander.”

You hmm contemplatively like his rank was somehow up for debate, toying with that damn little heart-shaped locket in a way that was tempting his eyes to drift further down.

Rooster didn’t think it could be possible, but you’re even prettier up close. He knew you’d be stunning, but he couldn’t have prepared himself for the way your mischievous eyes sparkled magnetically. Or for the warmth spreading in his chest with the way you are broadly smiling at him now.

The top buttons of your dress are undone one more than would be strictly considered family friendly. But Bradley wasn’t bothered by that in the least.

Clearing his throat, he notes, “It’s a nice day for a sail.”

“Ensign Hubbard and I already covered that rather riveting subject earlier,” you tease while looking at him like well, what else have you got.

“Let me try again then.” If you wanted him to put in the work, he was more than up for the challenge. “What brings you for a casual five-hour cruise down the coast on one of the Pacific Fleet’s finest?”

“Now that’s not something we got to before he was telling me about what his ribbons meant in great detail,” you say with a laugh. “Would you believe me if I said I had a deep appreciation for $1.6 billion-dollar ships purchased with Uncle Sam’s defense budget?”

He gives you a half smile as he pretends to contemplate it for a moment, “You know, for some reason, I can’t say that I would.”

“Well, shucks,” you say with an over exaggerated shrug. “What about if I said I was roped into waking up at an ungodly hour to catch a flight up here because my best friend’s boyfriend is a Naval aviator and she wanted me to keep her company for the ‘casual five-hour cruise’, as you called it.”

“Now that I believe,” he drawled. “So, what’s his name?”

“Well, she calls him Jacob. He has one of those silly callsigns too, but I always forget it,” you scrunch your nose adorably as you search for it, “Something-man.”

“You mean Bagman?”

“Yeah, that sounds right.”

He smirks to himself.

“I take it you know him then?” You wait for his nod before looking up at him from under your lashes and asking him, “Does that mean you have a callsign too?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s Rooster.”

He doesn’t miss the way you glance down, and he definitely doesn’t hold back his pointed smirk waiting for your eyes to meet his again.

And when he gives you a cocky raise of his eyebrow, all you do is shrug.

You didn’t just look like his type, you are exactly his type.

“Rooster Bradshaw, huh?” you ask, reaching out to tap a finger on rectangular name tag on his chest. “I take it you have a first name, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Sure do,” he drawls, “But it only seems fair that I get yours in return.”

You grin knowingly at him. His cheek ticks up as you stick your hand out towards him and give him your name. It’s pretty and suits you perfectly.

Bradley says it out loud savoring the syllables in his mouth as he shakes your outstretched hand. And he gives you his in exchange.

He likes how much smaller your hand looks in his.

“Since it seems like your friend has ditched you, what do you say about getting a tour? Not to brag, but I’ve been doing it all day and I’ve got it down to a science now.”

“A private tour? Lucky me,” you purr. “Lead the way Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.”

You knew what you were doing, he’d give you that. And he was eating it up with a spoon ready to ask for second, third, and fourth helpings.

It’s less busy on the flight deck, as people are collecting around the grills waiting for their turn in the buffet lines for the late lunch.

He starts off by showing you his aircraft, giving you a brief rundown of its features.

You run a hand over the body of his fighter jet as he wraps up his now well-practiced spiel, “Do I even want to know how much taxpayer money contributed to this?”

“It depends. Does your appreciation for Uncle Sam’s defense collection extend to F/A-18s too? Or is that strictly reserved for amphibious transport vessels?”

“I’ll keep you posted after I get the full tour,” you say coyly.

“Well then, I shouldn’t keep a lady waiting then. Should I?”

“No, you certainly should not,” you agree.

He guides you past the table that’s set up with squadron memorabilia for people to buy and to the door with a hand on your low back. He’s close enough to smell your perfume now, he wants to bury his nose in your neck to inhale the scent directly from the source.

Rooster navigates the two of you like a pro through the narrow passageways as he takes you to the mess hall where coffee and pre-sliced cakes awaited tour guests. From there he takes you to the galley, the wheelhouse, the engine control room, the 24-bed hospital ward, and the massive hull used to transport heavy machinery.

You as him thoughtful questions every now and then. And he does his best to answer them. The two of you drift closer and closer, it doesn’t escape his notice the way you brush against him when you pass by to get a closer look at some of the things he shows you.

It’s easily his favorite tour of the day.

He loves the sound of your laugh as he tells you about some of the mischief that he and members of his squadron managed to avoid getting caught doing.

Along with some of the things that they did get caught doing.

Your teasing grin and witty banter and little sundress have done a number on him. And he isn’t ready to wrap this up by delivering you back on deck until the absolute last minute he has to resume his official tour duties again.

So when he circles back to the airwing, instead of turning left when he should, he leads you to the ladder that would take you down a level.

And he knows he shouldn’t, that he could get in some big trouble for showing you areas that weren’t explicitly on the official list of tour stops. But he’s always been more of the apologize later type.

Plus, he hasn’t been on this ship for very long, it’s not his fault if he manages to get conveniently turned around.

Bradley waits at the bottom of the steep ladder, actively looking anywhere else but up as you make your descent. When you’re at level with him, he helps you down the rest of the way with a steadying hand at your waist.

And when you turn around he doesn’t step back.

You reach up and run a playful finger along the brim of his cap, “So what’s a girl got to do to get a turn wearing the hat?”

His mind flashes with images of the last time he’d let a woman wear it.

“I’ll have you know this is technically Naval property, they don’t let just anyone have one. You usually have to earn it. But for you?” he pauses and gives you a heated once over, “I’ll let you try it on for free.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want any special treatment,” you say demurely. “But I think in this case, Uncle Sam would understand. I’m a model citizen after all.”

He takes the cap off of his head and gingerly sets it on yours, “You’re something else, that’s for sure.”

It slides forward down your head, “Oh, it’s heavier than it looks.” And Rooster wishes he had his phone on him to get a picture for himself. He likes the way you look wearing his things.

“Looks good on you,” he hums, letting his finger brush against that little locket around your neck.

You run a bold hand down his chest, “Where to next, Lieutenant?”

This time he doesn’t bother to correct you, he knows the game you’re playing now.

Instead he grips your hips and pushes you against the ladder and brings his mouth to yours.You make a noise of surprise before your arms are wrapping around his neck to pull him in closer.

The kiss starts out light and teasing. Your lips are so soft beneath his. He gently grazes his teeth against your lower lip, before gliding his tongue along the seam of your mouth seeking entrance. The sweep of your tongue against his is everything. The soft moans escaping you are making his pulse thrum in his veins.

It would be so easy for him to get lost in the feeling of your perfect body against his and of the way your fingers were playing with the short hairs on the nape of his neck. But he’s already pushing the limits bringing you down here, he can’t get distracted by kissing you out in the open where anyone could stumble upon the two of you.

The small whimper that you make when he pulls away makes him grin. As does the sight of his cap sitting crookedly on your head.

He thumbs at the lipstick that’s smudged at the side of your mouth, “C’mon, I’ve got one more place I want to show you.”

This time he takes your hand as he guides you down the gray passageway and through the door on the left.

The ready room on the USS Portland is much smaller than the one’s he is familiar with from the aircraft carriers he is usually on, but the set-up is mostly the same. There are a couple of projection screens adhered on the bulkheads and there are a few rows of leather seats with a swivel tray tables attached to the arm rests.

“Tell me what happens in here.” You ask him so genuinely, so sweetly and he already knows he wouldn’t stand a chance against you with the way you flutter those eyelashes at him.

So he tells you.

He likes that you want to know these details about his job, he likes that he gets to share this with you. Even if the clock is ticking down before he has to get back on deck.

Rooster watches the tantalizing way your sundress dances around your thighs as you walk around the space. You take a seat in one of the chairs in the front row and pull the desk top over you before turning to him with a beaming smile with his cap still perched on your head.

And he is hit with a wave of affection for you so intense that it makes it hard for him to breathe for a moment.

He’s grateful when you see something else that catches your eye, giving him a moment to get himself back under control. You’ve got him feeling like he should be on his knees for you.

In the spot where he is used to seeing a lectern, on this ship there is a glossy wooden table inlaid with the ship’s coat of arm that you standing over.

“Does every ship have their own unique crest? Do you know what the symbols are for?”

He really needs to figure out who put him on tour duty and send them an Edible Arrangement or something. And maybe one for whoever put together the ten-page packet of “fun facts” that he had rolled his eyes at when he had first seen it.

“Yes, ma’am, I sure do.” He comes up to stand behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder as his arms cage you in against the table. “Yes, all ships come with their own. It’s something that the prospective commanding officers are responsible for designing when new ships are about to be launched.”

You lean forward a bit, gazing your ass against him, “Dark blue and gold are traditional Navy colors, right?” He hums confirmation into your neck, as he runs his mustache along your soft skin. He feels more than hears your sharp inhale. “What does the gear on the anchor mean?”

He drops a kiss to your shoulder, “The cog is a symbol of manufacturing, a nod to the ship’s namesake and the city’s history for building ships in World War II.”

You grab his wrist and bring his arm across your body, he takes the hint and presses in closer into you. “And the trident?”

God, you feel so perfect in his arms. Your body is fitting against his like a dream.

“The black symbolizes determination,” he murmurs into the space where you neck and shoulder meet. “And the choice of the three prongs is because it’s the third ship to be given the name.”

You lean your head to the side, and he takes the opportunity to trail open-mouth kisses up your neck. Your nails bite into his forearm in response, as you rock back against his rapidly hardening cock. “And the rose?”

“Portland is the City of Roses.”

“Does it have any other meaning?” you ask soft and breathy.

“It represents strong ties, baby. It’s a symbol for the supportive partners and wives of those serving onboard,” he whispers low and sweet into your ear.

“Bradley,” you sigh as you turn your head towards him for a kiss. It’s desperate and wet. And he can almost taste the neediness of your moan on his tongue.

He’s never done anything like this while on duty on a ship before, and the thrill of it has his veins thrumming with adrenaline.

“You’ve had me hook, line and sinker since the damn second I saw you.” He grinds himself against your ass and you whimper at the contact. “What do you want from me? I’ll be so good to you, so good for you.”

“Want you to touch me,” you pant into his mouth, “Want you to fuck me, Rooster. It’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about.”

“Fuck me.” He can feel his pulse thundering in his throat.

“I’m trying to,” you whine.

He barks a strained laugh before he spins you around, crowds you into the table. He doesn’t waste any time getting his lips back on yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You meet him stroke for stroke, just like you’ve been doing since the moment he laid eyes on you.

“This fucking dress,” he groans when he cups your breast through your fabric, as you fill his palm in just the right way. You arch your chest into his hand, and he was feeling entirely too self-satisfied in the confirmation that you weren’t wearing a bra. “Knew you weren’t a good girl.”

“So why are you treating me like one?” you taunt, breathlessly. Your greedy hands go straight to his cock, squeezing him through his pants.

Your hand feels so good on him.

“God, you’re so much fucking trouble,” he rasps, throwing his head back.You lean forward and your hot mouth works against the hollow of his throat.

He’s trying to undo some of the tiny buttons that line the front of your dress, but the teasing way your tongue is dipping out to trace the line of his tendon is making it hard for him to think.

“Are you gonna show me how you got that silly, little callsign of yours or not?” You give him one more squeeze, before bringing your hands up to the button of his white pants.

He knocks your hands out of the way before roughly grabbing your ass and hauls you firmly against him, “That feel little to you?”

Your gasp makes his fingertips dig further into your ass. The pretty color of your eyes has been completely eclipsed by your heavy, dark pupils. He can feel the way your thighs clench together.

“You want my attention? You’ve got it, baby,” he roughly rasps, “Go on then, show me how bad you can be.”

He dips his head down for a filthy, hungry kiss.

You push him back with a hand to his chest and a gleam in your eyes. You hold his heated gaze as you slowly undo his zipper and reach into his boxer briefs to pull him out. He moans when your thumb sweeps over the top of his cock.

Rooster thinks for a second that you’re going to drop to your knees for him, the mental image of you looking up at him with those doe-eyes is enough to make his jaw clench with desire. Especially with the way your sundress is gaping open at the top, giving him a clear view of the swells of your breasts.

Instead, you surprise him by bending over that glossy table and shimmying the skirt of your dress up over your luscious hips.

“Holy shit.”

You’re wearing the smallest, laciest little thong he’s ever fucking seen.

The band is a series of crisscrossed straps attached to some intricate and dainty floral lace. The juxtaposition of it against your skin is enough to make his ears ring. He’ll be dreaming of the way you’re enticingly arching your ass towards him for months.

And he’ll sure as shit never be able to be in a Ready Room again without getting a hard-on. The memory of you bent over the table before him will forever be ingrained in his brain.

“Is this bad enough for you, Lieutenant Commander?” You shoot him a grin over your shoulder as you wiggle your hips invitingly.

That sultry smile is swiped from your face the moment his large hand connects with your perfect ass. The sound echoes throughout the small room. He palms you once more before he yanks down your barely-there thong.

“Gonna fuck that attitude right out of you.”

Giving himself a few rough pumps, he lines himself up and slides into you with one steady thrust.

You both release an unrestrained groan of the sensation of him filling your warm, wet cunt. He barely gives you a moment to adjust to the size of him before he starts moving.

“’s big,” you sigh shakily.

“Tell me how much you like this cock.”

He slaps your pert ass again when you release a breathy whimper instead of answering him.

“Feels good, Rooster.” Your hands are struggling to find a way to support yourself as he fucks into you. “You feel so good.”

He pushes your dress higher up your body, his eyes are greedy for more of your skin. What he wouldn’t give to have you entirely naked and spread out before him. He wants to see all of you, he wants to hear you loud and needy for him.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs as he watches himself smoothly gliding in and out of you.

The little noises you are making are driving him crazy. He knows you’re trying to muffle your sweet moans and sighs and whines. The sound of your bodies coming together fills the room.

How his cap is still perched on your head he doesn’t know, it jostles every time your bodies come together.

“I need more,” you beg, “Need you to touch me.”

“Ask me nicely.” He punctuates the demand with a sharp snap of his hips.

“Please, Bradley. Please.”

He slides his hand around to the front of you, his fingers drawn to your clit like a magnet. You keen at the contact and tilt your hips into his hand. The sound is music to his ears, “That’s more like it.”

He doesn’t think there’s anything else better on the planet than being buried in your perfect pussy. You’re so wet for him. He already knows he’s going to need more of this, more of you.

“You’re taking me so well,” Bradley grunts as he speeds up his thrusts, “Looks like all you needed was a nice, thick cock. Just a sweet thing now, aren’t you?”

“Oh my god,” you gasp as you writhe against him. “F-fuck.”

He is so turned on by the way his hands span across you as he grips your waist and pulls you against him with every roll of his hips. His heart is racing in his chest.

The feeling of your body tensing around him is paradise. There is nothing he wants more than to be able to draw this out, but he is all too aware of how quickly time is slipping away from him.

He sets a rough and unrelenting pace. Redoubling his efforts on your clit, his indulgent strokes turn into tight, purposeful circles. And you cry out at the change of sensation on that sensitive part of you.

Your thighs start to tremble as his cock drags against that spot deep inside of you. The heat is pooling in his lower back as he fucks into you over and over again.

“Rooster, I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby. Let me feel it,” he murmurs hotly against your ear, his thumb rubbing back and forth across your clit. “Come on my cock like a good girl.”

The goosebumps erupt across your body like fireworks a moment before he feels you shiver and tremble beneath him as you come with a choked sob. The way you spasm and clench around him is dizzying.

Bradley is teetering on the edge, your cunt felt like heaven. Warm and wet and gripping him just right. He almost doesn’t want to give himself up to it as the pressure at the base of his spine intensified. He doesn’t want to stop fucking you.

You’re so perfect for him.

He loses himself to the feeling of your pussy milking him as you continue to pulse and writhe in the aftershocks of your orgasm. He grips your hips harder as he pounds into you before emptying himself inside of you with a shattered groan.

And for a moment all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears as he works to catch his breath. Rooster feels like his knees might buckle as the soft whimper you make when he pulls out of you.

He gently pulls that lacy little thong back up and helps to pull your dress back down over your hips and thighs before turning you around and lifting you onto the custom table.

He doesn’t know how he is going to make it through the rest of the journey knowing his come is collecting in your panties.

You’re flushed and looking thoroughly well-fucked as you smile up at him brightly.

Bradley threads his finger under the chain of your little gold heart-shaped locket that was etched with a rose in full bloom, and lightly tugs you in closer for a lingering kiss.

“I see you found your gift early, baby.”

Bradley would never forget the first time he saw you that night at the bar downtown last year during Fleet Week.

He had noticed you right away, it had been impossible not to. You and your girlfriends had been all done up in hot pink outfits for the Bachelorette party you were out celebrating.

Your friend had flounced right up to Jake taking the shot of whiskey out of his hand before swallowing it down then cheekily offering to buy him a replacement. Hangman had been wrapped around her finger ever since.

While your friends had all but shoved you in his direction while he had looked on entirely entertained as you had shot a scathing glare back at them. A sparkling tiara that read Bridesmaid sat crookedly on your head.

And then you had greeted him with a “Hey, Sailor” so weak that the couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. There was a split second where he thought that he might have fucked it up before it could even start, but then you smiled back at him.

It was a charmingly self-deprecating smile and he was yours from the moment he saw it.

“Hiding it in your nightstand next to the batteries wasn’t the most original of spots, Rooster,” you affectionately tease him. “I didn’t mean to peek, but the remote stopped working. I hope you’re not mad. I love it.”

He could never be mad at you, especially not with his necklace around your neck. You were his, and he was so gone for you.

“It looks so pretty on you,” he tells you softly as his fingers brush over your collarbones.

“Oh my god, Rooster, I can’t we defiled Naval property.” You giggle as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to circle your arms around his neck.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been defiling Naval property ever since you brought me home with you the night we met.”

You take that cap off of your head and set it back on his, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek, “Glad I’m getting a good return on my taxes then.”

He snorts a laugh, “God, I’ve missed you, baby. What are doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until the end of the week.”

“And miss the visual and culinary offerings of the USS Portland? I wouldn’t dream of it.” You joke as you run your hands along his arms where they’re pressed on the table on either side of you. “This uniform drives me just as crazy as it did last year.”

“Just the uniform?” he asks as he nudges his nose against yours.

“Maybe it has a little something to do with the man in the uniform,” you make a little hum as you check him out. “You’re so tan, Bradley, have you been using the sunscreen I sent with you-”

He crushes his mouth to yours, you were undoubtedly best thing that’s ever happened to him during Fleet Week.

“I’m glad I still do it for you,” he murmurs against your mouth before giving you another deep kiss.

The two of you work quickly to get yourselves looking presentable again. He’s only got a little time left before he is due to return to his tour duties back on deck.

He helps you back up the ladder and takes that left turn when he’s supposed to this time. All while your hand is tucked securely in his.

When you’re both back on the open flight deck he walks you over to the railing along the edge of the ship and wraps you up in his arms to watch the coastline crawl by with his last few moments of freedom.

“I really love Fleet Week,” you say with a contented sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

The golden rays from the sun are hitting you in a way that makes his chest warm.

“I do too, baby. It’s the best.”

Yeah, Rooster fucking loves Fleet Week.

Who doesn’t love a man in Summer Whites?! Consider this my formal petition for more Dress Whites in TG3!

Thank you for reading!

Update! If you want to learn about the night they met, I wrote these two a little prequel series you can read here!

Hey, Sailor Moodboard

A peek inside the USS Portland One | Two

If you’re curious, here is some info on the crest I found! One | Two | Three

You can check out my other stories and series here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

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callsign-mayhem · 28 days ago

Text

too sweet (part 1)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female!Reader Word count: 6.4k CW: Use of Y/N, occasional swears

As Natasha's lifelong best friend, you've always known her crew was off-limits, especially one cocky aviator with a killer smile: Jake "Hangman" Seresin. But when you take a writing retreat to sunny San Diego, a break that was supposed to help you escape distractions, you find yourself sharing late-night conversations, beach bonfires, and undeniable chemistry with the one person you've been strictly forbidden to date.

This is a multi-part fic.

As soon as your plane touched down in San Diego, you were switching flight mode off and texting your best friend. It had been almost six months since the last time you saw her, and your patience had worn thin not long after the second week of her being gone. Now, you were practically bursting with excitement. As a result, you’d become one of those annoying people who got up as soon as the seatbelt sign went off, standing in the aisle with your carry-on even though the steps for the plane hadn’t even been brought onto the runway yet.

Once you eventually got off the aircraft, you ran as fast as possible with a backpack and a carry-on suitcase, not stopping until you reached passport control. Once past that particular hurdle, it was onto baggage claim. Being a full-time writer afforded you much more flexibility and freedom than most other people, especially your best friend. This was why you usually visited her and not the other way around. Since it had been so long since you last spent time together, your ticket to San Diego was one way. It seemed as though Nat was setting up shop in Fighter Town for a while, and with your latest manuscript almost ready to be sent to your editor, you were taking the opportunity for a much-needed change in pace and scenery.

The airport was busy, and you were swarmed by people from your flight trying to spot their bags on the carousel. This included the screaming set of twins and their dishevelled parents seated two rows behind you.

They were still screaming, and you were briefly reminded why you didn’t want to have any children yet. Not that there was any chance of that happening, anyway. You’d been single for so long that it was a basically a personality trait at this point.

When you spotted your suitcase, you ran to meet it and hauled it off the conveyor belt less than gracefully. The arrivals lounge was an assault on your already overloaded senses, and dragging two suitcases wasn’t making it any easier. But when you got closer to the exit, you saw Nat’s black Suburban parked right out front, and all the stress dissipated.

When you barelled out of the doors and onto the sidewalk, she jumped out of the car with a huge, uncontainable grin. Her hair was freshly cut and styled, and her skin glowed beneath the Californian sun.

North Island looked good on her.

Bags be damned, you ran into her arms, almost knocking her over. She still smelled of citrus and vanilla, which was to say that she still smelled like her family home where you’d spent most of your childhood. You’d had a couple of boyfriends in and just after college, but their hugs had never lived up to Natasha’s. There was nothing more comforting to you in the entire world.

‘Lieutenant Trace in the flesh!’ You squeaked.

‘Y/N Y/L/N, bestselling author. It truly is an honour.’

Reluctantly, you let go so you could take her in. ‘Those FaceTime calls just weren’t cutting it anymore.’ You told her, smiling. ‘You look good, Nat. Better than good.’

‘I think this place agrees with me.’ She replied. ‘You look like you need a holiday.’

‘Wow, thanks.’

She laughed. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘I know.’

She glanced at your luggage with a raised brow. ‘Let’s get what appears to be everything you own in the trunk, and then we’ll get on the road. ‘Kay?’

‘I know it looks like a lot, but you know I like to be prepared.’

You took the smaller case, and she took the bigger one. ‘For what? Moving states?’

‘My ticket is open-ended.’ You explained. ‘Once I get my manuscript in next week, I’ll be free as a bird until my editor is ready to shatter all my hopes and dreams.’

Natasha eyed you somewhat disbelievingly. ‘You’re saying you might be staying a while?’

‘If that’s okay with you, yeah.’

‘Let’s see how long it takes me to get sick of you.’ She jibed.

‘How do you know I won’t get sick of you first?’

‘Because I’m a delight.’

On the way to Nat’s apartment complex, she pointed out landmarks and told you about the latest happenings. You were mostly caught up since you spent every other evening on FaceTime, but it was always different when you caught up in person. The two of you always remembered other details you’d forgotten about.

The drive from the airport to Nat’s apartment on Island Avenue took just over fifteen minutes, and before you knew it, you were being shown to the guest room. She’d moved in a little over a month ago, after being told she was being stationed in Fighter Town indefinitely along with some of her crew from a super secret mission she’d been involved in. Nat told you more details about her work than she probably should because even if you had someone to tell, you wouldn’t. Your friendship wasn’t like most other female friendships, where you think your secret is safe until it’s not. The two of you trusted one another wholeheartedly because there genuinely wasn’t any reason not to.

The guest room was as tidy and organised as the rest of the apartment. With Autumn just around the corner, she’d adorned the double bed with pumpkin throw pillows and a dark red teddy blanket you immediately wanted to crawl under. You were thoroughly exhausted, but you knew neither of you would be going to sleep anytime soon.

‘I put my desk in here,’ she told you. ‘Since I knew it would be your room. That way, you can write while I’m on base.’

Even after all these years, things like this still warmed you. ‘Thanks, Natty.’ You said, reverting to your childhood nickname for her. ‘I appreciate it.’

‘You hungry?’

‘Practically wasting away over here.’

‘I thought you might say that. Wanna go out or order in? I can take you to this amazing restaurant I went to with some of my team a few weeks ago. It’s right by the beach.’

‘Sold.’

An hour later, you were sitting in the outside area of a trendy new steakhouse. You were so hungry after your flight that you doubted you’d have noticed if the food had been awful. Nat enjoyed her brisket immensely, so it couldn’t have been bad.

‘So,’ you said, around a mouthful of food. ‘Tell me more about this new squad. Better than the Black Aces?’

‘They’re so different, they aren’t comparable. But they’re pretty awesome.’

‘Any of them particularly awesome?’ You asked, waggling your eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes playfully. ‘No, no, and no. Even if there were, I wouldn’t do anything about it. I don’t date navy guys.’

‘I still don’t understand that.’

‘I don’t like to shit where I eat,’ she said simply. ‘Or rather, I don’t like to let men shit where I eat since usually they’re the ones doing the shitting.’

You nodded in understanding. ‘Am I gonna get to meet any of the famous Daggers?’

‘Yup. Tonight.’

Your stomach dropped. While you were definitely up for meeting them, you were a little nervous, especially since it was happening so soon.

‘Tonight?’ You echoed.

‘Friday nights, we always go to The Hard Deck after work. I’ll come back to the apartment first, change and then we can head over together.’

You hoped you were doing a good job of hiding your nerves. Nat would never let you live them down.

‘So not only am I meeting the famous Dagger Squad, but I’m also gonna experience the highly acclaimed Hard Deck on the same night.’

‘Don’t bother wearing socks, ‘cause they’re gonna be knocked right off.’ Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

‘The novelty might have worn off for you, but this is big for me. I listen to you talk about these people and that bar day in and day out without understanding. I’m finally getting to put faces to names my best friend doesn’t shut up about. It would be like you stepping into one of my books and meeting all the characters.’

‘Okay, when you put it that way, I understand why you’re excited. But you gotta promise me one thing.’

She was suddenly all serious. ‘Anything.’ You replied earnestly.

‘Do not let Hangman charm you. I’ve already told him you’re off limits, and I’m saying the same to you. He’s bad news.’

You knew all about Hangman from Nat’s stories. There were only a few where he was one of the good guys. As a writer, you were all too familiar with the good girl falls in love with the bad guy trope, and as tantalising as it was to read about, you knew better than to fall for it in real life.

At least, you’d like to think so.

‘You don’t have to worry about that. He sounds like an asshole.’

‘You say this now, but he’s a charmer, and you’re vulnerable.’

You threw a chip at her. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I mean no offence when I say this, but it’s been a while since you dated anyone, Y/N. I’m not saying you’re naive, but I know he’ll lay it on real thick just to mess with me, and I don’t want you to fall into his trap and get hurt.’

‘You think he’d pretend to hit on me just to get under your skin? This guy sounds even worse than I thought.’

‘You can never be too sure what his intentions are. Safer to assume that he has an ulterior motive.’

‘Well, thanks, Nat. Now I’m really nervous.’

‘You’ll be fine. I’ll be there to yank on his leash if he starts barking too loudly. And Rooster is always looking for an excuse to take him down a peg.’

In true best friend style, Natasha had emptied your suitcase in search of the perfect outfit for you to wear to The Hard Deck. Thankfully, she’d settled on one of your favourites: a black velvet romper with bell sleeves covered in little silver moons and stars. You didn’t have to debate whether to wear your hair up or down because Nat had already decided for you and was almost done curling it. You applied a thin layer of lip gloss in front of her vanity mirror while she worked her magic. You’d gone easy on the makeup since you often felt self-conscious when wearing a lot.

‘Okay, done.’ She announced, running her fingers through the curls.

She’d done a great job, better than when you did it yourself.

‘Thanks, Nat.’

‘You’re welcome. You look drop-dead gorgeous.’

In her skinny jeans, white tank and leather jacket, you thought Nat looked like a sexy biker chick, and you told her so.

‘Anyone would think you’re in love with me.’

‘So what if I am?’

You decided to get an Uber since neither of you wanted to stay sober to drive the other home. You spent the whole journey fretting that the Daggers wouldn’t like you. Maybe they’d think you were boring because you weren’t in the Navy. Perhaps they’d think being a writer wasn’t a real job (it wouldn’t be the first time someone had told you that). Or worse, maybe they’d think you weren’t good enough to be friends with the highly decorated fighter pilot who was your best friend.

By the time the Uber driver pulled up in front of The Hard Deck, your stomach was tied in knots, and you were gasping for a shot of something strong to give you a confidence boost. Despite your overwhelming sense of anxiety, you were able to appreciate how incredible The Hard Deck was. Adorned with lights and overflowing with all different kinds of people, it was the kind of place that felt almost dreamlike. Music spilled out through the open doors and windows, and the surrounding area thrummed with a near-tangible electric current.

Natasha looped her arm through yours as you headed into the bar, and you were grateful for the physical and moral support. Inside, it was a hubbub of activity. The wraparound bar—which had at least five people behind it—was surrounded by people. The crowd was at least three people deep; as soon as a bartender finished serving someone, there was another to take their place. You’d done a brief stint as a bartender just after college, and while you’d never worked somewhere quite this busy, you had a pretty good idea of how they were feeling.

A Bon Jovi song blared from a jukebox you couldn't locate. A large pool table and a mounted dart board stood in the far corner of the bustling bar. This appeared to be where Nat was leading you. A group of aviators—some still in uniform from the day, some not—stood around the pool table.

Your heart was in the base of your throat. It was beating erratically.

‘Ready?’ Nat asked, flashing you an encouraging grin.

‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’

When you reached them, those who had been immersed in their game stopped, and the others let their conversations die out. All eyes were on you, and you briefly wondered if something was on your face.

‘Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my squad.’ Each one beamed at you as they swarmed around you to shake your hand or hug you. ‘For better or worse.’ Nat said.

The tall, handsome one with the moustache and the Hawaiian shirt you knew to be Rooster playfully poked Nat in the ribs. ‘Hey, you know it’s for better.’

‘Depends on the day.’ She shrugged.

‘Y/N,’ Rooster smirked. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

He had to reach down to wrap his arms around your shoulders. He smelled of sandalwood and sun lotion, and you’d already forgotten Nat’s reasons for not wanting to sleep with her squad members.

‘All good things, I hope.’

Before Rooster could respond, a strapping blonde guy with a movie-star smile cut in. ‘Better than good,’ he said with a southern drawl. ‘I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity.’

The squad collectively rolled their eyes. ‘This is Hangman.’ Nat sighed.

He held out his hand, and you took it. ‘Jake Seresin.’

‘Pleasure.’ You replied.

When you finally worked up the courage to look into his eyes, you saw chaos swimming in the blue depths. He smiled at you as if he knew what colour underwear you had on, as well as all your darkest secrets. He was disarming, and you’d always made a point to steer clear of men like that.

‘Oh, the pleasure’s all mine, darlin’.’

‘Alright, Bagman, that’s enough.’ This voice belonged to one of the shorter guys with a buzzed head and a much nicer vibe. ‘You’re gonna scare her off.’ Instead of hugging you or shaking your hand, he kissed your cheek, and you felt a surprised blush creep across your cheeks. ‘I’m Mickey, callsign Fanboy. Welcome to North Island.’

‘Thanks, Mickey. It’s nice to meet you.’

‘This here is Payback, but you can call him Reuben. I’m his backseater.’

‘Hi,’ you grinned, starting to find your feet and your confidence. ‘I hear you’re quite the pilot.’

Reuben glanced at Nat, apparently pleasantly surprised. ‘Damn, you say nice things about us behind our backs?’

‘Not all of you.’ Nat shot a pointed look at Jake. ‘But yeah. Don’t sound so surprised.’

Coyote—AKA Javy—was less intimidating than Jake, but you could tell they were privy to something you weren’t. Your mind flicked back to the conversation you’d had with Nat earlier, and you were starting to understand what she meant. Maybe they had some kind of awful bet on who could bed you first. Either way, you planned to be cordial but not engage with them any more than you had to.

Last but not least, you were introduced to Bob, Nat’s backseater and perhaps the team member she spoke most highly of. You’d been desperate to meet him for months, partly because Nat had told you he had a really funny side to him once he came out of his shell and partly because you wanted to thank him for keeping your best friend alive.

‘Y/N, this is Bob Floyd. My WSO.’

In one hand, he held a half-empty cup of peanuts. The other, he held out to you.

‘Bob, it’s an honour to meet you. Thank you for looking after Natty. I didn’t need to meet you to know that there’s nobody else I’d rather be in the sky with my best friend.’

Bob blinked at you behind his wireframes, dumbfounded by your kind words.

‘Uh, thanks, Y/N. I’m just a Weapons Systems Officer. Phoenix is the hero, not me.’

‘Don’t put yourself down. Your job is just as important, if not more so. I know she won’t mind me saying that.’

‘I agree,’ Nat said. ‘I’ve told you before, Bobby; you gotta give yourself more credit.’

Bob flushed. His eyes remained fixed on his peanuts. ‘Well, thank you. It sure means a lot.’

With the initial introductions out of the way, you could relax. Payback and Fanboy headed to the bar to get a round of drinks in while you made yourself comfortable at one of the tall tables. Rooster and Bob joined you and Nat while Coyote and Hangman resumed their game of pool. They’d been playing doubles with Payback and Fanboy, and it was their turn.

You found yourself staring at Hangman as he leaned over the table and expertly sank three balls—one after the other—into the pockets. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud, but he was gorgeous. Walking, talking Texan Ken dolls weren’t usually your type, but it was impossible to deny Jake’s appeal. Maybe it was because Nat had explicitly told you not to look that you found your eyes wandering back to him, even as Rooster launched into a story about a recent mission. Didn’t something always feel more endearing when you weren’t allowed to do it?

When Payback and Fanboy reappeared, each with a tray of drinks in hand, you could finally refocus your attention.

‘Tequila shots!’ Fanboy gestured with bravado.

‘And some beers to chase them with.’ Payback finished.

You giggled, reaching for your shot. There was enough for everyone to have two, and you made a mental note to get them both back. Hangman and Coyote sauntered over at the mention of hard liquor. It was difficult to ignore Jake when he came to your side of the table and reached over you for his shot. Was he making a point, or were you hyperaware of him after your warning from Nat?

‘What’re we toasting?’ You asked.

Rooster’s eyes twinkled as he raised his near-overflowing shot glass in your direction. ‘To old friends and new.’

The whole squad echoed his toast and downed their shots. Bob coughed and sputtered, and Fanboy smacked him on the back encouragingly, only making him cough more. Your stomach ached from laughing, and you weren’t even drunk yet.

One shot of tequila, and you were already wondering if there were any apartments for rent close to North Island.

As the night progressed and you got tipsier, you found yourself playing some kind of game with Hangman. The rest of the squad seemed totally unaware of it, for which you were incredibly grateful. If Nat or Rooster caught so much as a whiff of attraction between the two of you, you were sure they’d haul your ass home and sit you on the naughty step. You’d only known Bradley for a few hours, but you’d hit it off immediately. You understood why he and Nat were so close. He’d already adopted some kind of brotherly responsibility for you, and apparently—before your arrival—he and Nat had made a pact to protect you from Hangman at all costs. Super dramatic, but you were sure it was warranted.

Of course, this approach had the opposite effect. You found yourself drawn to him for reasons known only to the almighty. Nat and Bradley had said (not in so many words, but still) ‘fuck around and find out.’

And here you were, fucking around and finding out.

He was standing at the dart board nursing a whiskey on the rocks. Payback was taking his shot while Fanboy egged him on from the sidelines. It seemed that the two pairs had a mission to thrash each other at various bar games, and you sincerely hoped that Payback and Fanboy won at least one round of something by the end of the night just to see the smug grin wiped off Jake’s pretty face.

As for the game the two of you were playing… Well, you’d started that. He’d caught you staring at him after the second round of shots, and the look he’d given you in response had been incendiary. More for something to do with your hands and mouth, you’d taken a sip of your cocktail (courtesy of Bobby Floyd) and looked away again. You’d looked up again a little while later and caught him staring. You’d raised your eyebrows, and in response, he took a long drink of his whiskey before mouthing ‘bet.’ Thus, your little drinking game was born, and you hadn’t even had to speak to each other.

Whenever one caught the other staring, the guilty one had to take a drink.

You were more than tipsy now, so you silently promised not to look at him for a while lest you end up on the floor before 10 pm.

‘So, Phoenix tells us you’re about to finish another book.’ Bradley said, bringing you back to Earth.

‘Yeah, I’ve just gotta mess around with the ending, and then it’ll be good to go. That is until my editor tears it to shreds.’

‘Did you always want to be a writer?’ Bob asked.

He’d come out of his shell significantly since you walked into The Hard Deck earlier that evening. The two shots had helped since he wasn’t a big drinker. They’d gone right to his head, and his cheeks were stained pink. Bob was sweet and kindhearted and had a knack for making you feel seen and heard in the conversation. You’d never met a man who was so attentive before, and you got the feeling that Nat and Bradley had an agenda, what with the knowing glances they shared whenever you went off on tangents about music and different novels you’d both read.

Bob was perfect. Bob wouldn’t break your heart. Out of all the guys in The Hard Deck, he was the one who made the most sense to you.

But Bob didn’t have you shifting in your stool whenever he looked at you as warmth pooled in the bottom of your tummy.

‘For as long as I can remember, yeah.’ You responded. ‘Most people thought I was insane for choosing a liberal arts major in college. They’re notorious for leading you absolutely nowhere, but I was persistent, and now here I am.’

‘Not many people are successful enough to live off their writing, even if they get published.’ Nat added proudly. ‘She’s a one-percenter in the writer world.’

‘You know, I’ve actually read one of your books.’ Bob said, smiling down at his Corona Light, suddenly shy.

This was the kind of moment you always dreamed about as a kid: meeting someone and finding out they already knew your name because they had a copy of one of your books at home.

‘Seriously?’ You leaned forward. ‘Which one?’

‘Fourth of July.’

You were taken aback. Fourth of July wasn’t the book you were best known for, but it had been your favourite to write. It was literary fiction, and few people had the stomach for it. After publishing it, your agent practically forced you to write something on the opposite end of the spectrum, more for sales than anything else.

‘What did you think?’

‘I thought it was extremely provocative. You know the kinds of books you think about for months when you’re finished?’

Your smile was so big, your face ached with it. ‘Yeah, I know the ones you mean. You really think that?’

‘I do.’

‘I don’t even know how to respond to that. I’m so happy.’ You gushed. ‘So I’m just gonna buy you another drink.’

Bob chuckled. Nat and Bradley shared another knowing look. ‘You don’t need to do that.’

‘I want to. Besides, it’s my turn to get a round in.’

You floated up to the bar on cloud nine and made the order in such a daze that you didn’t notice Hangman slide up next to you.

‘I’ll be paying for this round, Penny.’ He drawled.

Your head snapped up. He still had that shit-eating grin on his face, and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to slap it or kiss it off.

‘I can pay. It’s my turn.’ You insisted.

Jake waved you off. ‘You’re the honoured guest.’

‘And it’s my turn.’ You repeated sternly. ‘Plus, I’m buying Bob an extra drink as a thank you.’

Jake recoiled slightly, a bemused grin on his face. ‘For what?’

‘He gave me some great feedback on one of my books. The one I’m the least proud of. Nothing in the world beats that feeling, so I want to thank him.’

‘Trust Bobby to have read your work before knowing who you are. I bet he’s mighty pleased with himself.’ Jake ruminated. ‘He’s not the one trailing behind for once.’

You frowned deeply. ‘That’s not very nice. Bob seems like a great guy. He probably doesn’t seem like it to you because his ego isn’t the size of North Island.’

Jake laughed. ‘And you think mine is?’

Penny was smirking to herself as she poured all the drinks, and you had a feeling she’d probably back you up.

‘I think it’s probably quite close. You and Bob don’t speak the same language, so you think he’s beneath you.’

‘Come on, I don’t think he’s beneath me. You’re making me sound like a dick.’

No, actually, I think you manage that quite well on your own.’ You quipped.

Jake staggered back, clutching his chest, feigning hurt. You laughed despite yourself. His energy was contagious like that.

‘So, are you gonna let me pay for my round?’

‘How about I pay for the round, you just pay for Lieutenant Bookworm. You know, to save your conscience.’

‘Fine,’ you said, rolling your eyes. ‘But I’m gonna get the next one. I’ll just wait until you aren’t paying attention.’

Jake glanced at your lips so quickly that you would’ve missed it if you’d blinked.

‘Good luck with that, sweetheart.’

You opened your mouth to respond, but no sound came out. He’d disarmed you yet again, and you disliked feeling so helpless. It was almost as if you were at his mercy, and he knew it. Jake Seresin didn’t need any more power than he already had.

He paid Penny and took the tray of drinks over to the table. You hadn’t ordered any shots because you wanted to remember some of this night, and it was probably a good idea because you could no longer walk in a straight line. Jake went right back to the dart board, and you took your seat at the table.

‘What was that about?’ Nat asked, voice laced with concern.

‘He paid for the round, even though I asked him not to.’ You took Bob’s beers off the tray and set them before him. ‘I got these, though.’

‘Thanks, Y/N.’

Bradley’s eyes were boring holes into Jake’s back. ‘It’s rare for him to do something nice without an ulterior motive.’

‘Well, that’s easy. His ulterior motive is getting in Y/N’s pants.’ Nat growled.

‘Okay,’ you said with a sigh. ‘Let’s change the subject. I’m sick of talking about him already.’

Although Bob didn’t speak as much as everyone else, you felt he noticed more than they did. You could tell he saw right through you. You just hoped he wouldn’t say anything to your best friend.

You felt truly alive, as if the electrical current surrounding The Hard Deck had been injected directly into your veins. Your first meeting with The Dagger Squad had gone incredibly well, and they’d exceeded your expectations tenfold. It had only been one day, and you already felt like you’d made some friends for life. You were beginning to understand why Nat looked so healthy, why she seemed to be glowing from the inside out, the amazing people, the energy of North Island, the beautiful weather. These things separately were better than any multivitamin, but together? You felt as though you’d drunk some kind of magical elixir that would permit you to live forever.

You wouldn’t mind living forever if you got to stay here permanently.

Was it too soon to be thinking this? Did you care?

Penny had called last orders, but nobody was ready for the night to end. Your exhaustion had worn off long ago, and thankfully, you were experiencing a rather mighty second wind. Somebody had suggested going back to Nat’s for some more drinks. Reuben’s place was the biggest—a three-bed detached house right on the outskirts of North Island—but nobody wanted to Uber that far, so you settled for Nat’s. Her apartment was the second biggest, spanning two stories. You knew she’d received a considerable inheritance a few years ago, and paired with her Navy money, she was well-off. It helped that her finance-managing skills were impeccable. She’d been the one to help you invest and save money from your first book deal when you’d wanted to blow it all on an expensive trip to New Zealand.

It took two Ubers to get you all to Island Avenue. You carpooled with Nat, Bob, Bradley and Reuben. Mickey pulled the short straw and had to jump in with Jake and Javy. To be fair, they weren’t bad guys; you just knew their type and weren’t accustomed to it.

Back at Nat’s, everyone was assigned a job. You and Nat set about turning all the fairy lights on, putting more chairs out on the generously sized balcony and finding throw blankets for those who got chilly. Bradley was connecting his phone to the Bluetooth speaker and queuing songs since he insisted he had the authority in that particular department. Bob was hovering, suggesting more songs for him to queue, arguing that he had just as much authority as Bradley did since they had similar taste in music. Reuben and Mickey went through Nat’s drinking/board game selection, picking out a few to keep everyone occupied. Dangerously, Javy and Jake had declared themselves bartenders. On the way back, they’d stopped at an off-license and grabbed a wide selection of booze to add to what Nat already had stocked in her kitchen. They’d set themselves up on the kitchen island and were attempting to make homemade cocktails.

You and Nat found a moment of solitude in her room when she was searching for some sweats to give Mickey, who was still in his uniform.

‘So it’s going pretty well, huh?’ She smiled. ‘You like the squad?’

‘Hell yeah, I do, they’re a riot.’

She opened her wardrobe door, smirking knowingly. ‘Who’s your favourite?’

‘Don’t have one.’ You said, a little too quickly.

‘I know you’re lying. Just tell me.’

While she rooted around in her wardrobe, you gave it some thought. You didn’t have a favourite because you liked them for different reasons. Bob was genuine and intelligent, and he understood your writing almost as well as you did. Bradley was vibrant and interesting, and he made you feel safe, as if you could be yourself unapologetically. Same with Mickey and Reuben. You liked the fact that Javy was sure of himself without coming across too cocky (mostly).

And as for Jake. Well, you didn’t have the words to describe how you felt about him.

Nat poked her head out of the walk-wardrobe. ‘Well?’

‘I like them all, Nat. But if I had to choose, it’d be Bob.’

She smiled. ‘I knew it.’

‘Knew what?’

‘You have a thing for Floyd. And he has a thing for you.’

‘Jesus Christ, Natty. No. Not like that.’

She’d finally found sweatpants and a T-shirt that she didn’t mind lending to Mickey. When she came out of the wardrobe, she wore a cunning expression.

‘You wouldn’t date him? I think he’s perfect for you.’

How were you supposed to tell her that the reason you wouldn’t date him was because Jake caused a swarm of butterflies in your stomach? How were you supposed to tell her you were crushing on the only guy from her whole crew she’d warned you off?

There was only one answer to that: you couldn’t.

‘I didn’t come here to date. Why would I start something here that I can’t finish? I’ll be back in New England before the leaves change.’

‘Everything is always so poetic with you. But you’re right,’ she relented. ‘Bobby is someone you have a quick fling with, anyway. He’s too nice, and I don’t think that’s his thing.’

You gestured as if to say, ‘there you go.’

‘Shall we get back out there and see what havoc those two dickheads are wreaking in my kitchen?’

‘Let’s do it.’

It turned out that they were wreaking a lot of havoc. There were open spirit bottles everywhere, and the kitchen island was lined with shots. Not only that, but a selection of cocktails surrounded the bottles. You didn’t know what any of them contained, and honestly, you were scared to ask.

‘Ladies,’ Javy said. ‘What’ll it be?’

‘Something that’s not gonna put me on my ass after two sips?’ You offered.

He looked at the selection of drinks with a pained expression, and you laughed.

‘I’m guessing that’s not on the menu?’

‘Er, no…’

‘Okay, give me something sweet.’

Jake stepped around the island and came right up to you. He was so cocksure that it should have been cringe, but it was just incredibly sexy.

‘Here you go, darlin’.’

Natasha and Javy laughed, but you couldn’t stop looking at him. He was drunk, but there wasn’t a hair out of place. If you hadn’t watched him throw drinks back all night, you would think he was sober.

‘Nice. Does that work on all the girls?’

‘I haven’t tried this one before.’ He winked.

‘I’ll take whatever concoction that has the most vodka in it. No whiskey.’

Your swift change of subject didn’t phase him in the slightest. ‘Anything you want.’

When he handed you a drink and your hands brushed, you had to glance around to see if Nat noticed. Because if she had, she’d have seen you linger for a moment before you turned around and walked away.

After a few particularly vicious rounds of Cards Against Humanity that had you all creasing on the floor, you took yourself off to the bathroom. Bob and Javy were talking about heading home. Bradley and Mickey had called dibs on Nat’s huge, L-shaped sofa for the night, and Reuben was trying to convince Nat to let him top-and-tail in her bed. While they were arguing, you headed inside and up the spiral staircase to use your bathroom without worrying about a drunken aviator trying to get in.

Or at least, that had been your plan.

You reached out to grab the door handle, and someone’s hand closed over your own.

‘Jake?’

You turned around, your back against the closed door, and he moved in front of you, his chest flush against yours.

‘What’re you doing?’ You breathed.

‘You’ve been givin’ me those come-to-bed eyes all night. I assumed that’s where you were headed.’

He leaned in closer, but not so close that you thought he was going to kiss you.

‘I thought you were suspiciously quiet when everyone was talking about sleeping arrangements.’

‘Mhm, so you were thinkin’ the same thing?’

You shook your head, but your smile was a dead giveaway. ‘Even if I wanted you to, you couldn’t spend the night here. Nat would crucify both of us.’

He leaned even closer. You could smell the liquor on his lips now. ‘Who says she has to find out?’

‘I can’t do that to her. It’s disrespectful.’

He regarded you thoughtfully. ‘Come on, Y/N. Take that halo off for one night.’

Bravely, you nudged his nose with yours. When he tried to kiss you, you pulled back. His expression was a mix between hurt and challenged.

‘I’ve been warned to stay away from you, in case I get hurt.’

‘Well, that’s funny,’ he responded, closing the space between you. ‘Because I’ve been warned to stay away from you so I don’t wake up and find my balls missing.’

You laughed. ‘Nat threatened to castrate you?’

‘That she did.’

‘I suggest you go home and sleep in your own bed then.’

His lips were basically touching yours now. ‘You don’t really want that.’

You reached up and put a hand on the back of his neck. The first kiss you shared with Jake Seresin was exactly how you imagined it would be. There was no softness, no easing you into it. One minute, you were talking, the next, you were tasting the whiskey sour he’d just finished. He had both hands on either side of your face and was kissing you more intensely than you’d ever been kissed in your entire life. It was raw passion and desire—you could feel how needy he was.

When he pushed against you, you felt his hard-on through his Levis, and a small whimper escaped your lips. You found yourself grinding against him, hoping for any kind of friction to ease the tightness in your stomach.

When he pulled away, you followed his mouth and kissed him again, but he stopped you soon after.

‘What was that about me going home and sleeping in my own bed?’

You groaned. ‘Don’t make this hard for me.’

‘You’re the one making things hard, sweetheart.’ He smirked.

‘I’m gonna go down first, and you’re gonna follow me a couple minutes later. That way, nobody will be suspicious.’

He shook his head in disbelief, but he was grinning like a fool. ‘You’re seriously not gonna let me stay?’

‘I told you, it’s disrespectful.’

‘So what, then? That’s all I get?’

You flashed him a devilish grin of your own. ‘For now.’

A/N: This is the first part of this series. There shouldn't be more than two or three parts. For some reason, I struggle to write one-shots; it always turns into a series...

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ohtobeleah · 1 year ago

Text

Roses // BF x JS x Reader

Summary: Robert Floyd can’t seem to find it in himself to hurt you the way you crave, the way you truly desire. Confiding in his more experienced, more outgoing & confidence wingman is something he’s always done. This time when Bob asks Jake Hangman Seresin for advice, he gets a hell of a lot more than he bargained for.

Warning: Bob Floyd x F!reader Jake Seresin x F!reader. Smut. MMF Threesome. Cuckold Bob? Power imbalance. Male receiving oral. Female receiving oral.

Word Count: 6.6k

Author Note: Happy Saturday Folks, please enjoy this porn without plot one shot of two of our favourite flyboys:

"Fuck—“ The delightlful sound of Bob’s near pronographic moans were something you would never get tired of hearing. The way his hands fell softly onto your hips to help you ride his throbbing length was a touch as gentle as an angels. Bob always felt good, oh so good—He was truly blessed. From the sting that always made your heart stop whenever he’d first slip in, to the way his tip would nuzzle against your sponge like cervix, to the way his shaft would throb against your velvet walls with every pleasure filled thrust.

“Baby—“ The term of endearment escaped your mouth with a sigh as you dragged one of his hands up your body, softly wrapping one of Bob's slightly calloused hand around your own neck and squeezing it for him. Bob couldn't contain the whimper he let out as you eyes hooded at the sight as his mouth remained open, a drawn out groan of absolute pleasure rumbled from deep inside his chest.

“Please, make me cum baby please.” You begged as you threw your head back and whimpered to the heavens above. Your other hand dipped down to swirl around your sensitive bundle of nerves as you picked up the speed, the gentle slapping of Bob’s balls hitting the curve of your ass echoed through the bedroom the two of you shared more often than not. Robert Floyds humble abode was closer to the Hard Deck, his favorite watering hole and your place of employment.

The second you let go of Bob’s hand that you’d placed around your throat, Bob dropped it as fast as he could, he let it fall to the soft curve of your hip after stopping shortly to touch the hardened bud of your sensitive nipple. Bob’s baby blue eyes trained hard on your tits as you bounced and rolled your hips above him. A goddess amongst mere mortal men.

“Ahhh—Bob, baby m’cumming! Oh fuck m’cumming I’m cumming—ooohhh—“ Your nails, long and manicured scratched at Bob’s chest as you came hard around his length, leaving red raw claw marks in their wake as you clenched around Bob’s shaft. Your pussy throbbed as you saw stars and black dots behind your eyes. Your thighs trembled on either side of Bob as he thrust his cock deeper inside you, chasing his own high after making sure you were well looked after. Forever the gentleman was Lieutenant Robert Floyd.

“Shit—shit Y/n, baby quick, I'm gonna cum—“ Bob groaned as you rolled off from straddling your broad boyfriend's hips to laying on your back with a wicked giggle. You bit your bottom lip to help hold back to lustful and ever so sinful chuckle that threatened to escape from the inner part of your soul as Bob mounted your chest—one leg thrown over you as he pumped his cock right over in face. “Ahhhh—“ He sighed as he unloaded his hot spurts of cum over your fucked out face, watching it cover you from your forehead to your chin, your tongue did its best to chase whatever he gave you.

Bob didn’t stay on top of you for very long, even if you adored the feeling of the weight of his body on top of you. It was as if he was unsure if he was hurting you—that would be Bob’s biggest fear. He settled back down onto his back with a sigh as he watched you quickly sauntered over into the en-suite. The sound of the shower turning on quickly filled the silence that lingered after you disappeared from his sight.

“Can I join?” He mumbled as he got off the bed, padding towards the bathroom to see you washing your face under the warm stream of the shower head. Suds from your face wash worked to wash away the load Bob had just plastered your face with. It mixed in with the notes of mint and cooling cucumber.

“I think you can squeeze in.” You jokingly replied as Bob stepped under the stream of warm water, watching as you washed away the suds to reveal your freshly cleaned face. He wrapped his arms around you tight before he dipped his head to connect his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. Bob hummed against your supple lips when he felt your hands dip to his ass.

“You been working out?” Bob had recently started hitting the gym a little more frequently with Hangman and Rooster. He was a cardio guy, but in the past few weeks he'd managed to bulk up just a little. Put on a few pounds that made you insanely feral. Bob Flyod looked good a couple of pounds heavier.

“You know I have.” Bob smirked, he picked you up to wrap your legs around his waist. Gently pressing you against the cool tiled wall. “I’ve seen you watching from the treadmill.”

“S’good view.” You couldn't hold back the small giggled that escaped before you once again pressing your lips against his with need and want. Your tongues danced together memorising each other's mouths before Bob put you down.

“Let's get out of here—wanna taste of what dessert has to offer.”

“What does that mean?” You asked as you bit your bottom lip—Bob’s hand came down to caress your lower back as he led you back to the bed. Soaking wet. He watched you with lustful eyes as you sat down before you quickly spread your legs. With intent, Bob dropped to his knees beside the bed—his hands slowly spreading your thighs further apart. He squeezed at your supple skin, decorated nicely with stripes Bob loved to delicately and ever so gently litter with kisses.

He’s never left a mark.

“Bob—“ You breathed out heavily as Bob licked a gentle strip up your fucked out pussy, so sweet and slick. His eyes never left yours as he lapped away at the sensitive bundle of nerves you loved to play with so much. Your clit was your favourite body part. Its only purpose in your life was to bring you pleasure and pleasure you craved. “Bob—“

“You okay?” Bob stopped momentarily to ask, watching as you dropped from your elbows to your back. In the middle of pure ecstasy your hands shot up to grip the strands of light brown hair that had grown out exponentially since you’d first started dating.

“Yes yes! Just keep going—feels so fucking good.” You sighed as you rolled your hips. Feeling Bob's tongue against you yet again making you moan softly. “Don’t stop, Fuckk-“ Bob did as he was told, lapping away at your soaked pussy like he was starved, high of the taste of his girlfriend. Watching as you squirmed and moved around from each flick of his tongue. Part of you wished he’d stop you— part of you wished he’d make you stay still.

But you knew better than to wish—Bob would never be as dominant as you wanted him to be. It just wasn’t in his inherent nature. It went against everything that made Bob, Bob. He was a gentle and kind soul to the very core—a wallflower.

Settling into Bob’s side a little later on, you were now dressed and exhausted, you sighed deeply when your head fell against Bob’s exposed chest—listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I love you baby.” Bob kisses the top of your head.

“I love you more.” You cooed quietly as your eyes felt heavy. Tired from a massive shift at the Hard Deck that ended the sexcapades that had just wrapped with Robert Floyd. “Hey Hon?”

“Yeah?” Bob's voice was low in his chest as he absentmindedly played with your hair. His nimble fingers felt oh so amazing against your scalp. Calming, soothing and above all relaxing.

“How come you’re so........gentle with me?”

“That suddenly a bad thing?” Bob chuckled as he ran his fingers down your arm to trace your forearm. “I just—I couldn’t imagine being the reason behind your pain you know?” It made you feel genuinely safe and cared for, but deep down something was telling you to have this conversation now. If you didn’t now, you might not ever work up the courage to again.

“What if I told you I wanted you to hurt me?”

“What do you mean?” Bob yawned, of course he was listening, but Bob was tired himself. “You want me to hurt you?”

“Well—you see, you remember how I tried to get you to choke me? But as soon as I moved my hand you let go? Well I want you to do that, harder—and maybe on your own accord.” Bob could physically feel the heat of your cheek on his chest and you could most definitely hear his heart racing.

“You want me to ch—choke you?” There was clear hesitancy laced in Bob's questioning as his hand stilled from the gentle rhythm he had fallen into tracing unidentifiable objects into your forearm.

“And like, maybe pull my hair, slap me around a little bit, like when I’m moving around when you eat me out maybe, stop me? Pin me down and just I don’t know Bob—use me?” You could tell maybe this was all a little too much for Bob, he was such a gentle soul with the biggest of hearts and the kindest of eyes. It wasn’t in his nature to want to be dominant.

“I uh—“ Bob tried to formulate a sentence to respond with, he wanted to make you happy and if this was what would make you happy he wanted to do anything you desired of him. But he couldn’t find the words. “I—“

“You know what?” You cooed as you looked up through your lashes to where your Boyfriend's head was resting against your pillows. “Don’t even worry hon—“ You placed a butterfly-like kiss against Bob's clean shaven cheek with a small smile that made his heart ache. “Forget I ever said something—I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Bob replied with a low tone, his voice had gotten deeper as the night progressed. “Are you sure? maybe I could uh—try?”

“It’s totally fine—everything’s perfect just the way it is.” Again you tried not to make this bigger than it really was. Bob was a great guy. He was a great partner and an even better best friend. Not wanting to make the man you loved so much, that did so much for you, uncomfortable, you dismissed the subject that wasn’t all that important anyway. Why fix something that wasn’t broken? “It’s not who you are.”

Bob’s mind was plagued with the reality of your words after you’d fallen asleep in his arms in his warm and loving embrace that night. Your gentle snores filled the room as his mind wandered, ran rampant with thoughts. Maybe it wasn't who he was—

But Robert Floyd definitely knew someone that was.

***~***~***~***~***~

Bob woke up early the next morning, knowing it was his only chance to catch Jake without a chance of being interrupted. The pair had been an unlikely duo to rent a home in North Island. If you had first asked Bob what his opinion on Jake Seresin had been when they first met a few years ago he wouldn’t have had a good word to say about the overly confident aviator. Jake’s egomaniacal personality was something that seemed to curve out over the years—soon enough Jake was just Jake to the bunch of Daggers who’d settled permanently in North Island.

And before Bob really even knew what happened he’d signed a lease with Hangman and was a pretty big fan of his Texan take on Taco Tuesday.

“Mornin.” Bob grumbled as he sauntered into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Bob was most definitely not a morning person, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out. If he didn’t need to be up for work then Bob wasn’t getting up for nobody. Jake however, he had always been an early bird gets the worm kind of guy.

“Jesus!” Jake gasped as he choked on his toast, not exactly expecting the pair of you up for at least another four hours minimum. “The fuck are you doing up so early? Are you sick or something?”

“I needed a coffee.” Bob grumbled, he grabbed at the coffee cup with your face on it that said ‘Bob's Coffee Cup’ on it. A birthday present you thought was incredibly funny. “And some advice—but you can’t laugh at me Jake, I swear or else I’m never talking to you again.”

“What’s up?” Jake shut his laptop begrudgingly, already missing the home interior design inspo board on Pinterest. He and Bob were in the process of making their house a humble abode. And by him and Bob Jake meant himself. He was in the middle of redoing the older than some, sturdier than most home.

“Okay so Y/n said something last night and I don’t know what to do about it.” Bob knew he’d regret this the second the words were flying out of his mouth.

“What did she say?” Jake's face was puzzled, he hadn’t seen Bob so frazzled in a while. “Robert? what did she say?”

“She wants me to be uh—rougher? With her, and I can’t wrap my head around that concept for a second to even think about how I’d do that.” Jake frowned as he watched Bob wiz around the kitchen, collecting the necessary things for his coffee and cereal.

“I’m assuming you mean in bed because—?” Jake tried to make the situation he found himself in a little more light hearted. He was fine, really, but he could tell just by the rose colour creeping itself across Bob's neck that he was almost embarrassed.

“Yes Jake— of course she meant in bed what else would she mean?” Bob caught himself before Jake could legitimately answer that question. He saw the Cheshire- like grin creep across Jake's face before he went to speak. Bob shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “Actually, don't answer that.” He sighed as he sipped his coffee, warm, milky and caffeinated just how he liked it as he walked around to sit next to Jake who sat on the other side of the kitchen bench.

“So what’s the big deal? Slap her around a bit? She wants you, right? So what's stopping you?” Jake did see the big deal in all of this. He’d been with plenty of women who liked their intimacy a little of the rougher side. It wasn't that deep, not everything had to be some coded deeper meaning bullshit. Sex could be just that–sex. Kinks could be just that, kinks.

“I physically can’t do that.” Bob groaned at himself as he doubled over and placed his forehead against the kitchen countertop. “Like she tried to get me to choke her last night and I couldn’t, I bitched out and moved my hand.” Jake stifled a laugh as he sat back and tapped his friend on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort the worrying WSO.

“Bob—I can see you’re already over thinking this, look, being rough between the sheets doesn’t mean you respect or love her any less?”

“I don’t wanna hurt her though? I can’t fathom being the reason behind her pain.” Jake rolled his eyes at the overbearing sensitivity of his good friend and housemate.

“Jesus Bob it’s not that deep, you could throw her through your bedroom wall and that girl would beg for more—it’s Y/n we’re talking about right?” You and Jake Seresin had a pretty good relationship. He was actually the one who introduced you to Bob. He knew Bob had been reluctant to put his best foot forward when it came to talking to pretty girls who made killer cocktails, but when Jake saw the way you smiled at Bob like he hung all the stars in the night sky just for you—he knew he had to get his wingman moves out.

“Yeah but like what if I take it too far.” Bob countered. “What if she actually gets hurt? Doesn’t like what I’m doing?” Bob’s mind was racing a thousand miles an hour. This wasn't his style, the rough natured touch that is–but the worrying was. That was all Bob.

“That’s what safe words and actions are for—” Jake replied with a cheeky grin, this could be his chance, the moment he’d been waiting for. “Look, do you need me to show you?” Jake smirked as Bob sat up—shooting his housemate a concerned look. “Because I could show you a thing or two.” Jake's biggest regret in recent months had been not getting to see what more you had to offer under your work uniform before he ever so kindly offered to help Bob secure the love of his life.

“Are you saying you wanna have sex with my girlfriend!!?” Bob could barely believe he even had to ask, but he wasn't all that shocked if he were to be completely honest. This was Hangman he was talking to and Jake didn't really have a hell of a lot of hard boundaries he wouldn't cross just for the plot.

“For educational purposes yeah—“ Jake teased, he took another bite of his toast as he did so. “Look I don’t really care? Watch some rough porn or something for tips, but you brought this shit to me.”

“Gosh, you really are a dick of a friend aren't you.” Bob scoffed as he pushed himself off the stool he’d been perched on. “Don't need to play the part when you are the part.” Bob couldn't help but to roll his eyes as he sipped his coffee. It was still far too early in the morning for him.

“The fuck does that mean?” Jake asked with a frown evident on his face. He’d come a long way since he first came back to TopGun a few years ago. He had friends, roots even. He wasn't the same guy. “All I did was offer to help you out, Floyd.”

“You just asked to fuck my girlfriend Jake, how much more of a douchebag can you be!”

“I said for ‘educational purposes’!” Jake wasn't going to sit here and be reprimanded by Bob just for offering his sexual services. “Look pal–I’m not the one who’s scared to fucking choke her.” Jake laughed as he got off the stool. “Honestly Bob—just do what you want at this point, slap the girl, don’t slap the girl, either way Y/n’s still gonna love you. Maybe try doing something she wants you to do and see where things go? You can only fuck up so many times.” A silence fell over the two aviators as they stood in their shared kitchen. “But either way I couldnt give more of a fuck about your sex life and the goings on or not goings on that are inevitable associated.”

“Good pep talk Hangman.” Bob hissed. He knew bringing this up to Jake was going to be a bad idea. He should have listened to his gut instinct.

“Anytime.” Jake grinned as he started walking away. Laptop in hand. He had better things to be doing on his weekend off than consoling a slightly self conscious, meek, weapons system officer.

But Bob knew that he couldn’t do this with Jake's help. He didn’t know how to give you more of what you needed and as a result he swallowed his pride and took a deep breath in.

“Wait! Jake—“ Bob held the bridge of his nose as if he was holding back a nosebleed, exhaling deeply, that’s how much he hated the words that were about to leave his mouth. “Okay, okay, for educational purposes only alright? So help me god if you cross the line and hurt her in any way I’ll—“

“Relax Robert.” Jake smirked as he walked closer to where his friend stood with slumped and deflated shoulders before he placed a reassuring hand on Bob’s shoulder. “Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

“What, when you’re balls deep in my girlfriend? Yeah I’m sure I’ll be throwing thanks your way.”

”I meant when you actually feel comfortable giving her what she wants, but yeah you can do that too if you like.” Jake laughed as Bob whacked his chest. “Ow—!”

“That’s for being a smartass.” Bob decided on making breakfast before he went back to bed, avocado toast in hand he sauntered down the hall. Opening and closing his bedroom door quietly so as to not disturb you.

“Bob?” You mumbled at the sound of Bob bear feet padding along the carpet softly.

“Mornin’ baby—Sorry, did I wake you?” Bob asked as he leaned over your side of his bed to press a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“No no, I woke up a little while ago, it was kinda weird not having you next to me.” You admitted, most of the time if not all the time, you were the one waking Bob up.

“I made you breakfast.” Bob said as he sat on his side of the bed, crossing his legs before stealing a bite of the warm toast coated with smashed avocado before handing it over.

“Aww thanks you didn’t have to do that—“ You cooed as you sat up against the headboard. “Really baby, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to—“ Bob smiled. “Anyway, so you remember that conversation we had last night?” Bob sat picking at the small hairs on his chin. A nervous twitch he had that made your heart melt. He didn’t grow his facial hair out all too often, but that five o’clock shadow did something to you.

“Yeah, what about it?” It came out more of a mumble than anything else

“I talked to Jake—“ Immediately you felt your core temperature rise at the mere thought of Jaker seresin, Bob's friend and colleague, Bob's housemate, knowing anything about your sex life let alone your personal sexual fantasies.

“Bob!” You slapped at his chest, the brunt of your open palmed slap was softened by the cotton of his shirt. “How could you?”

“He’s one of my best friends! Y/n, you know I tell him everything.” Bob tried to defend his actions, you knew going into this that the Daggers were a close knit group of souls, all trauma bonded in more ways than one.

“Yeah but I thought maybe our sex life was off limits oh my gosh—“ But this, this was just a whole new level of broken boundaries.

“It usually is! I promise, I just—I needed advice about what you said you wanted me to do and Jakes always been the first person I go to for anything so it was only natural.” You never knew of a time where Bob and Jake weren’t close. You had been told of a time before you when the two couldn't have been more different from one another. But their dynamic had always reminded you of a big brother little brother-esk friendship.

“There’s absolutely nothing natural about Jake knowing I want you to choke me.” You scoffed. “This is why you made me breakfast, wasn't it?”

“If you think that’s not natural I think you’re gonna hate what I have to say next—“ Bob tried his best to laugh it off, but he knew deep down you weren't gonna go for it. Hell he hadnt gone for it at first.. “Jake said he—he said he’s um show me? How to uh—be rougher with you.”

“You’re kidding, Bob, What does that even mean!?”

“He’s gonna have sex with you and basically I’ll watch and take notes I guess.” You had to still be dreaming, this wasn’t actually a conversation you were having with your boyfriend right now was it? He didn't just say what he did. There was no possible way.

“Bob! NO! Oh my gosh no I’m not having sex with your best friend are you insane!?” You gasped as your eyebrows raised to new highs unseen on your forehead in shock. “You know what? I shouldn’t have said anything, you’re crazy.” You shook your head before getting out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Bob asked as he watched you walk towards the bedroom door. “Baby?”

“Away from you psycho, trying to get me to fuck Jake? As if that was even a thing that came up in a serious conversation!? You two are seriously two of the most codependent people I’ve ever—“ As you opened the bedroom door in your fit of anger, shaking your head in disbelief Jake was there to stop you. He was there to stop you from going any further than a foot or so out into the hallway.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Jake's hand wrapped itself tightly around your throat. The pressure was so intense the gasp you made, made Bob stand from the bed. He was immediately worried, maybe this was a bad idea after all. “We’ve nearly seen death together sweetheart, that brings people together in ways you couldn't begin to imagine.”

“Jake–” You tried to choke out, but the way Jake gripped your throat and stepped you back into Bob's bedroom with such ease had you seeing stars.

“Did you just say harder?” He smirked as he watched your eyes roll, he applied more pressure as he walked you back, slowly and with intention behind every step. “You’re too easy Y/n.” Jake pushed you back till you were landing on the mattress you shared with Bob with a gasp and a cough. “Like an open fucking book.”

“What the hell is going on!?” You hissed as you looked between the friends who you saw most nights hanging around the pool table and being the life of any party. “Bob, this is crazy.”

“You act like you don’t want him to learn?” Jake smirked, he was already enjoying this. “C’mon Y/n, let the guy learn from the best—“ His sweats already felt constricted at the mere thought of getting to touch you the way he’d always fantasised about.

“Are you implying you’re the best?” You paused as you sized Jake up. “That’s some pretentious shit if I’ve ever heard some.” Jake looked at Bob as if to ask for permission. Bob nodded slightly, he wanted to see where Jake was going with this. How far he’d take it. He watched with lustful eye as Jake grabbed your hair and pulled you roughly towards him. Having Harlow Kneel on the edge of the bed. ”Ow—!”

“Look—this is what’s gonna happen okay? Because unlike you two lazy asses I actually have plans today, so I’m gonna fuck you—give you exactly what you want and Bob’s gonna show you what he took from this little—educational training session after. Okay?” Jakes dominating demeanour had you dizzy. This couldn’t be fucking happening. scenarios like this only ever happened in fanfiction— Specifically those cliche fanfictions about the Naval Aviators you knew taking turns sharing the reader. Had you dived too deep one night trying to prove how many girls day dreamed about your boyfriend, Bob? Yes.

“O—okay.” You managed to whimper out, you couldn't have been more turned on right now even if you wanted to be.Regardless of how morally wrong and twisted this whole thing was, you wanted to be used and abused so bad. If this was the only way Bob was going to be able to satisfy your needs? Your wants? So be it.

“Good—“ Jake grinned as he let your hair go. “Now, if things get too rough, or you don’t like something I do? Say Roses. It’s the safe word.”

“Why Roses?” You asked meekly as your knees buckled under the heat.

“Because Bob’s as delicate as a rose bud that’s why we’re doing this.” Jake teased. As if having to watch Jake fuck you wasn’t bad enough. “Now strip.” His tone changed as Bob sat down on a chair against the wall. This felt a little weird—but he would do anything to please you. To give you everything you ever desired and then some.

Bob watched with hawk eyes as you stripped everything off your body. He watched as your hands pushed your pyjama shorts down your legs, he watched you pull Bob’s shirt up over your head—leaving you naked on the bed before him. Bob wanted to run his hands softly over your curves, wanted to tell you how much he adored you, he wanted to show you how much he loved you. But as he was thinking of all the things he wanted to do to his girlfriend? Jake already had his hands on your ass—pulling you closer.

“See the thing is Bob, don’t think that by being rough you love Y/n here any less.” Jake explained. “Y/n is a beautiful, smart, kind and compassionate girl don’t you agree?” He turned to Bob who looked as if he was sweating after running a couple of miles, his face was flushed a crimson red.

“Ye—yeah, she’s amazing.”

“She’s also a whore.” Jake snapped, slapping his hand harshly against your ass, making you squeal from the initial sting but soon you felt the warm print forming. “I mean look at her—she’s letting your best friend touch her? I mean it’s for educational purposes of course but still—such a little whore, and do you know what whore do Bob.”

“N—no?” He couldn't say yes.

“They suck dick when they’re told to, don’t they Y/n.” Jake asked as he pulled his shorts down, pulling his cock from his boxer briefs. Bob watched as Jake pumped himself a few times before pushing your head down. “Don’t they?” He asked again, watching as your mouth moved dangerously close to his tip.

“They do.” You looked at Bob for permission and he blinked slowly as he nodded, watching as you took Jake's first few inches in your mouth as you kept eye contact with Bob. Your Boyfriend who was now watching you suck another guy off.

“Shit—“ Bob palmed himself through his shorts. This was insanity, why was he so turned on? He shouldn't have been–but the sight of you taking Jake's length in your mouth sent him to the moon and back.

“Fuck—“ Jake groaned as you hollowed your cheeks. This was the hottest thing you’d ever done, the most scandalous thing you’d ever been a part of. Moaning around Jake's cock as you bobbed your head— taking more of Jake down your throat like it was your very mission in life to get him off to new heights.

“See Bob—look how she’s not only sucking my cock–” Jake sighed as you took more and more of him. “But look at the way she’s sticking her ass up for me, for us.” His hand slapping against your cheek—causing you to groan around his cock. Pulling away, leaving the trails of spit that connected your lips to the tip of his cock. “It’s pathetic really—you can see how much she desperately wants to be used in her eyes.”

“You think you could use me Bob?” You asked softly. Jake pulled you down to the floor by your hair. “Fuck—!” Jake made you crawl on your hands and knees towards where Bob sat.

“Yeah Robert, do you think you could make her do this?” Bob Watched as Jake pulled you up to just your knees before he worked to shoving his cock down your throat once more—your nose kissed the dark manscaped pubic hair. Jake kept you there as he listened to you gag before pulling you away. “Fuckk—So fucking good Y/n, huh?” Leaning down to slap your ass cheek harshly. Watching as you grinned and giggled. Biting your bottom lip as if to say you loved it.

“I dunno—can I try?” Bob pulled his shorts down as he stood, watching as you sat back on your heels to watch like a good girl. His boxer briefs came next— revealing Bobs hard and stiff as a rock cock that slapped up against his toned lower abdomen.

“Be my guest.” Jake said as he stood back and sat on the edge of the bed. Bob was gentle as he gripped your hair in his hand. “Harder Bob, it isn't rocket science.” Bob’s eyes locked onto yours and saw you begging him for more. Something inside him stung as he looked at you— he wanted to lean down and kiss you. But he knew what you wanted more. So he gripped your hair as tight as he could.

“Ahhhh—“ You hissed out, Bob panicked before he let go, this wasn't him, he couldn't do this.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby—“ It was an apology that wasn't needed, you were truly having the time of your life right now.

“Bob! No!” Jake groaned as he stood, sighing as he grabbed your hair and made you stand. Throwing you on the bed. Harshly.

“Jake! You're hurting her!” Bob yelled.

“Has she or has she not said the safe word?” Jake pointed out as he turned with a growl and a harsh glare Bob's way.

“That doesn’t matter Jake—“

“It does matter! There’s a fine line between pain and pleasure Bob and this little slut right here.” Jake walked over to you on the bed before he spread your legs as you laid still on your back. “Loves pain—tell him.”

“He’s right baby—I’m fine.” You moaned out at Jake's touch. “I’d say if I wasn’t—please just use me.” You begged your boyfriend with enough conviction that for a moment Bob actually believed you.

“Look at her begging Bob, how pathetic.” Jake leaned over you, his knees were now on the bed between your legs. “Right Y/n? Pathetic aren’t you?” Jake groaned as he spat in your face—shoving three of his fingers into your mouth as he slapped his tip against your throbbing pussy. So slick from the arousal that had pooled. A moaning mess as you looked at Bob.

“Watch and learn pretty boy, if I’m such a douche bag, I better live up to the title, huh?” Jake smirked as he shoved himself deep inside you, Bob watched your eyes roll back into your head as you squealed around Jake's fingers. “Fuckk—so tight!”

“Jake—“

“Get over here.” Jake groaned, thrusting himself in and out in and out of your slick and slippery pussy. “Now Bob!!” Bob moved closer as Jake removed his hand from your mouth and slapped your cheek.

“Ahhh fuck! Jake! Yes—!!” You screamed, sending a feeling through Bob he couldn’t explain. He’d never been jealous before, certainly not of Jake. But hearing his girlfriend scream out Jake's name flicked a switch inside him that would never flip back.

“Choke her.” Jake ordered, still fucking deep into your fucked out pussy— his tip kissing your cervix with every thrust he gave you.

“No,” Bob hissed, gritting his teeth. He had to restrain himself from giving into this.

“Bob! I said fucking choke her!!”

“Bob—baby please—“

“Flip her, need her on her knees for a second.” Bob ordered, Jake stopped his thrust and looked at Bob for a second and noticed a change in him. Something had been triggered. He’d done exactly what he’d set out to do.

Educate and teach.

Jake pulled out—pumping himself as you flipped over, ass in the air and ready to be pounded yet again. Jake didn’t waste any time before he slammed right back into your dripping pussy before he stuck his thumb into his mouth. Licking and sucking before softly pressing it against her puckering hole. That was a new sensation you hadnt yet dared explore. But it felt good, oh so fucking good.

“Yess! Jake! Jake please oh my god!!” You screamed as Bob slapped his cock against your face. Holy shit this was really happening.

“You want my cock baby?” Bob asked with a low rumble in his voice you didn't quiet recognised

“So bad Bob—please give me your cock, wanna taste it baby.” You begged before Bob took your head in his hands and placed his cock between your open lips—watching it disappear, more and more–slowly disappearing as you took him down your throat. Eyes watering.

“Now use her Bob, she’s your fuck toy—make her choke.” Jake groaned as he slapped against your ass yet again. “Fuck you’re so fucking tight Y/n.”

Bob thrusted his hips back and forth into your spit dripping mouth, using your mouth as his personal toy. Listening to you gag and groan. He’d never heard these noises coming from you before. He always let you do whatever you wanted. Not one to take charge.

“Fuckk—okay Jake.” Bob gritted his teeth. “Jake get out.”

“What!?”

“Consider class over, get the fuck out!” Bob hissed. Watching as Jake smirked and pulled out. Slapping your pussy harshly making you squeal around Bob’s cock. You tried pulling away but Bob kept you still. Just like you always wanted him to.

“My work here is done I guess, guess I’ll go jerk off somewhere else then.” He chuckled, collecting his pants before leaving the room.

“Now—what am I gonna do with you?” Bob asked, pulling you off his cock and flipping you onto your back. “You want me to be rough with you? Use you? Fine—have it your way baby.” Bob slammed himself inside you, he watched as you smiled, biting your bottom lip. Bob couldn’t help but lean over you, wrap his hand tightly around your neck as he thrusted his hips against yours. He sent his hard throbbing cock deeper into you with each movement.

Bob dipped his head as he tightened his grip, biting at your nipple harshly making you wince. You couldn’t breathe—it was everything you'd ever dreamed about and more, you loved it, every second of it.

“You are a little slut aren’t you?” Bob teased. “Why have I been treating you like a—well” Bob smiled. “Like a rose?” Removing his hand so you could answer.

“Im gonna fucking cum!” You cried out, reaching between the two of you to rub at your throbbing clit. “Bob!! Harder!!” You begged, feeling Bob slam himself inside you a little faster, a little harder. “YYEESS—!”

“Oh Y/n baby I’m gonna fucking cum!!” Bob groaned, feeling you clench and pulse around his shaft. Watching as you trembled, your high washed over you as intensely as ever. It was a sight Bob fell in love with—it was like no other orgasm he’d watched you have.

“Baby—baby, Y/n oh fuck yes! Yes—!” Bob moaned aloud as he felt his balls tighten, shaft twitching as he unloaded deep inside you. Filling you with his cum. Holding you close as your nails left red raw scratches down his slightly muscular back. Bob Fell on top of you with deep heavy pants. He kissed your neck, leaving purple marks in his wake—the first of many marks Bob Floyd would leave on you.

“Bob—did I really just fuck your best friend?” You asked in your daze.

“Yeah—but it’s okay. You know why?” Bob teased as he pushed himself onto his knees above his girl.

“Why?”

“Because now I get to punish you for being such a fucking whore.” Bob hissed as he manhandled your legs, pressing them up to your head. Spitting on your pussy that dripped with his cum. His fingers danced around your entrance before slipping inside—curling up against your velvet walls.

“Oohhh—Bob!” It was a sound Bob could never get tired of hearing. Your pleasure, your desire.

Bob pulled out to slap his hand against your sensitive bundle of nerves, watching as you tried to run as he held you still. Just like you wanted him to. Needed him to. Rubbing his thumb around your throbbing clit using his own load to do so with ease.

“Now remember baby—“ Bob smirked as he leaned down to kiss your clit, feeling you shutter from his touch. Pride rose within him because he could do this and still adore you, love you and respect you.

“Just say Roses.”

***~***~***~***~***~

#bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #top gun bob #bob floyd fic #bob x reader #bob floyd smut #Robert Bob floyd smut #top gun x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fan fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin smut

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entertainmentgirl80 · 2 years ago

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Texas Roadhouse (Jake "Hangman" Seresin X Koko) 👩🏾👨🇨🇱🤟🏽👢🤠🐴

Jake Seresin X Koko (Black Curvy/Plus-Size Reader)

Warning: Fluff and probably some little angst

On a summer day, y'all flew to Jake's hometown to see his mom for the first time while you in Austin, Texas so while y'all there, Jake took y'all to side seeing around the town especially the horses, the festivals, etc.

"Wow, so this is Texas. No wonder why you always represent your hometown, I'm ain't mad at ya." You chuckled

"Yup, this is my safe haven. Besides what you think, I'm listening to country music and having this accent?" He smirked to you.

"I'm can see that." You smirk back to him

"Hey, Mama?" The child said to you

"Yes baby?"

"This is daddy's hometown?" The child asked you

"Yes honey, this is Daddy's hometown."

"Mama, look! A horsey!" The child said to you while she pointed and saw the animal.

"See, I'm told you the kids are gonna enjoy it so far." Jake grins.

You just happy to be with your little family while your husband is on the vacation to visiting his mom in Texas, but you know that you looking forward to meet your mother-in-law, especially bringing your kids to see their grandma for the first time in person.......

The following day, y'all at the hotel, both of y'all gotten up, you already washed up the night before so while Jake in the bathroom showering, you getting the kids up, making sure they ate some breakfast, brushing their teeth, and getting dressed up. So afterwards your husband got out the bathroom from showering and you smell the vanilla & lavender body wash that he has on and also you couldn't help that he looks handsome without clothes on especially he have a towel wrap around his wrist like that, but you have to get your dirty thoughts out of your mind for right now because we are wasting time a little bit, and we have to get going so after we already got dressed and we are heading out to his mom's house.

So after hours & hours on the road, we arrived at the place, Jake parked the driveway, killed the engine and we got out of the car and rings the doorbell and we saw his mom and her outfit it's scream southern bell because of how they dressed especially cause of they raised in a old money Texan way versus me as a Georgian woman like myself I'm more into black culture way because of where I from so he understand knows where I'm come from after we first met before we starting dating.

"My baby Jacob, how are you?" His mom hugs Jake

"Hey mama, how are ya?" He hugged her back after he greeted her.

So after she greeted Jake, she saw me and the kids, she stepped closer towards her, immediately she hugged her & the children.....

"Hello Koko, it's so nice finally to meet you, and you are really beautiful as well." She smiles at you while greeting.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Seresin. " You greeted her back.

"Please call me Shelley or Ms. Shelley, whatever you like to call me, though, and this must be my lovely grandkids as well."

It's didn't hit you the fact that those kids are yours & Jake's because the children is more resemble like their father because of their green but hazel eyes but hey you can't help that it's those Seresin genes though but anyway your little girl is not the shy type, sure she has it but she more adventurous like her father and your son is so handsome, he probably gonna have the charm effect from his father and you know when he gets little older those girls probably gonna call up the house and asking him if he a available.....

"So this is my grandchildren, huh? Y'all are so adorable, and how are you loves?" Ms. Shelley compliments the kids.

"Hi grandma, I'm good, and I am glad to see you in person." Jade said hello and introduced herself to her.

"Hi Jade, I'm glad to see you in person as well and you just a cute pie."

"Thank you" she smiles at her grandmother

"And who this handsome prince also as well?" Ms. Seresin asking you.

"This is James Jacob, the middle name, that I'm named him after his father." You tell her about the name.

"So I see and the name is perfect for him but hey come on in, make yourself at home, I'm make some fresh made of cookies."

"Well thank you Ms. Shelley, come on Jade."

"Okay mama" she follows you in the house

"So how long yall gonna be here in Austin though?" She asked y'all.

"Oh we gonna stay here about 3 more days and then we head out back to California." Jake have James on his hip.

"Ohh okay, well it's so good to see you my Jacob."

"You too ma, but anyway where grandma at?"

"She outside on the patio." She told where she at."

"Okay but hey sweetheart I'm gonna see my grandmother alright?"

"Yeah sure, no problem go head" you tell to go head since you have the kids.

"So Koko, how you and Jacob met if you don't mind asking?" She brought out the cookies & tea

"Well I'm met him in a navy bar back in San Diego, California." You told Ms. Seresin how you & Jake met.

"Oh okay, so where you from though love?"

"I'm from Atlanta, Georgia"

"Ohh a big city."

"Yup, I'm from the south and I'm a proud Georgian." You told her that you proud of what city where you from though.

"That understandable darlin', so what you do though?" She asking you

"I'm a stay-at-home mom."

"Okay but look I'm have to tell you something and it's nothing personal, listen what your tensions with my son?" She ask for curiously.

"I'm love your son, more than ever, I'm not expecting anything from him all I want is understanding, morals, respect, and openly minded, that what I want, I'm don't care about the money, that not who I am all that I'm want it to want someone to loves me and let me be myself, that'll all I'm ever wanted." You poured your heart to Mrs. Seresin

"Wow love, I'm never expected that from you to pour your heart out like that." She was surprised

"Sorry I'm just, I in love with Jake and I'm never felt this way before in my life especially how he treated me as a woman."

"Well I'm glad he treated you well and y'all treating each other well too." She understood you.

"Mama!! We saw more horses too, can I'm ride one of them please?" Jade asked you

"Tell your father if it's okay for you."

"Okay mama." Jade running towards back to her father.

"I'm sorry, she like animals so much." You smiled

"That okay honey, kids being kids, but look I'm let you go back to Jacob and it's was a nice conversation with you Koko." She hugged you

"Okay and you too Ms. Shelley." You hugged her back.

And so you went outside with James on your hip and Jake saw you standing there while holding y'all son, and he got him so you can keep a eye on Jade.....

"Hey"

"Hey Babe, how you like it so far?" He asked about the vacation.

"It's perfect, I'm wouldn't be anywhere but you, there no place I rather be here." You kiss him on the lips with a passionate.

"I'm wouldn't trade anything else in the world because of you, I'm really happy that I'm glad we found each other." He kissing you more.

A/N: This is a another long one-shot story and also this is a alternate universe if Koko married to Jake and have children with him.

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year ago

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My Girl - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Tagging: @words-and-seeds @cosmic-psychickitty @@xoxabs88xox @hardballoonlove @dempy

It’s late when Jake turns up outside your house, far too late for him to be visiting but he can tell you’re up from the light in the hallway. He imagines you running through your usual routine, checking the locks before you head to bed, Cujo, the Belgian Malinois at your heels walking his nightly patrol with his partner. He got back in just over an hour ago and usually he would have spent the night in his quarters, turning up early the next morning with coffee and bagels before your shift but then he’d heard the scuttlebutt.

There’s been a drugs raid while he’s been gone, it had been triggered after a Ensign had O.Ded on Fentanyl last month. He hadn’t realised you were part of the investigation because you hadn’t told him. He gets it, there’s stuff he can’t talk about either. It’s why the relationship works as well as it does, the two of you have a level of understanding you can’t get with a civilian.

When he’d heard that a female Master At Arms from the K9 division had taken a hit during the shut down of the operation he’d felt his heart stop in his chest. There are four K9 officers and the other three are male. He knows that it was you.

“Woman, please just open the door.” He mutters as he raps his knuckles against it for the third time.

He knows the need to be here, to see you is irrational, but he’d called, and your phone was switched off, something you always do when it gets past ten because it helps you destress before bed. He knocks even louder, pausing only when he sees your shadow in glass panelling.

“Jesus Jake,” You utter as you open the front door. “Are you trying to wake up the whole neighbourhood?”

He’s dressed in his civvies, clothes that have hastily been thrown on before he’s headed off base. You can see how tired he is from the slight shadowing underneath his eyes. You realise he must have come straight off the carrier because the scent of the sea still clings to his skin. You’re dressed for bed, in a vest top and leggings, an oversized pair of his socks on your feet because you always get a little cold. His gaze lingers on the black bruise that’s blossomed across your chest; it sits like a starburst just underneath your collarbone spreading across the curve of your left breast. It was close he summarises, damn close. He can see the burn in the centre where the heat from the bullet seared your skin through the Kevlar.

Cujo appears beside of you, his wet nose already probing Jake’s clenched fist for treats. He snuffles at it until Jake exhales and splays his palm, allowing the dog to scent him before Cujo huffs in displeasure, retreating back to your side.

“He’s been a little protective since it happened.” You say as you open the door a little wider and gesture for him to come in.

He steps inside, closing the door behind him before he crouches down to fuss over your canine companion.

“Good boy Cuj,” Jake says as he scratches the space behind Cujo’s ears that makes his tail wag. “Looking after her while I’m away.”

You roll your eyes as Cujo showers him with doggie kisses, because he loves Jake almost as much as he loves you. You think it’s the regiment of treats and play that Jake adheres to whenever he comes over.

“I know you don’t need looking after.” Jake states as he jerks his head away to avoid his face being licked. “But it’s good to know that this one has your back.”

You place your hand on his shoulder, your thumb skirting over the space on the nape of his neck, the one that you know soothes him just a little.

“I’m ok.” You tell him. “A little sore but otherwise I’m good.”

He raises to his feet, his hands coming to rest upon your hips as he lingers in your proximity. Everything else falls away in that moment, you can see the concern in his eyes, the relief. He knows that shit happens while he’s away and he knows that you can handle it, but he hates that he isn’t there for you sometimes. You would never chastise him for that, but he still feels it acutely.

“I just had to see for myself.” He whispers as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “I just need to be here right now with my girl.”

Love Hangman? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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#top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman x reader #top gun maverick #hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman fic #hangman imagine #hangman x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you

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roosterforme · 5 months ago

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Mr. Right Now Part 1 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: When Jake picks your ID up from the floor at the Hard Deck, he has no expectations that he's about to be in for a wild ride. But when he learns that you're looking for Rooster and why you're at the bar in the first place, he starts to feel more possessive than he should. You're young and stubborn and about to get yourself into trouble. Maybe he would prefer it if you got into it with him instead.

Warnings: adult language, mentions of sex and virginity, 18+

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

It was a typical Friday night with the typical Hard Deck crowd, and to be honest, it was a bit exhausting. Jake knew if he picked up a random girl to take home, it would all feel pretty pointless the next morning. He should probably just head home now before he ruined some desperate girl's night by kicking her out of his bed in about four hours.

"Jesus, it's not even ten o'clock yet," he muttered to himself as he checked his watch. He'd only had one whiskey sour, but he was ready to leave. The two girls in matching pink dresses had been eyeing him up all night, and they both looked like the type who would cry if he suggested getting them an Uber after hooking up, no matter how clear he made it that he only ever kept things very casual.

He hated when girls got it twisted. Jake loved women. He loved their bodies. He loved making promises to them and then delivering. He loved the little noises they made when he fucked them. But that was all he had time for. He wasn't going to meet anyone that made him think it was worth pursuing more when he spent all of his time at work, at the gym, or at a bar full of tag chasers.

He signaled for Penny to close out his tab, and even she looked surprised. "You're heading out?" she asked, glancing at his friends who were still playing pool with the girls in pink.

"Yeah," he said with a sigh as he signed his name on the receipt and collected his credit card. "Thinking about an early night and a long run on the beach first thing in the morning."

"Right," she said, giving him a little smile. "Be safe."

He winked at her and turned just in time to see a young woman drop something as she tried to squeeze through the crowd. "Hey!" he called out as he picked up her driver's license and held it up in his hand. "Leather mini skirt!"

You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes questioning as you turned away from the pool table to face him. He watched you look around to make sure nobody else was wearing a black leather skirt before you faced him all the way.

"Yes?" you asked a little cautiously, and Jake took in the sight before him. You looked pretty young and a little out of place here. You had paired your little skirt with a black tank top and some Converse sneakers, and even though you didn't look like anyone else, you certainly didn't look bad.

Then he remembered he was holding your license, and he glanced down at his hand only to realize it was literally the worst fake ID he had ever seen. Your name was pretty, if that part was even real. The photo actually was you, but it looked like it had been taken in bad lighting, and according to your date of birth, you were thirty just like he was. One more look at your face told him that was a blatant lie.

"This yours?" he asked, holding it up between his thumb and index finger.

You rushed forward, clearly embarrassed, and you tried to take it from him with a muttered, "Thank you."

But he pulled it out of your reach, and your hand grazed his chest instead. "Nice fake, kiddo. Don't get drunk, okay?"

You shot him a look of vexation, clearly having no idea who he was or that he was one of the best fighter pilots in the country. "I'm not here to get drunk, okay?" When you reached for the plastic card again, Jake held it a little higher just to see what you'd do. "Seriously?"

He glanced up and looked at the first and last name once again before saying them out loud. "Then why are you here? And with the world's worst fake ID to boot."

You eyed the card, still out of reach, and placed your hands on your hips. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm actually looking for someone named Rooster, if you happen to know who he is?"

Jake lowered his hand slowly, and you snatched your card back and tucked it inside your little purse. "What do you want with ol' Rooster?" he asked, eyeing you a little closer while you were glancing down. You were cute if not a little too innocent looking for him, but your words once again had him engaged.

"That's classified, sailor. Now do you know who he is or not?"

Jake laughed. "Yeah. I know who he is. But I'm not a sailor. I'm an aviator. Got more air to air kills than anyone else on active duty."

You gave him a bland look. "That must be very nice for you, aviator. But I'm on a bit of a mission here, so if you don't mind..." As you turned back toward the pool table, Jake followed behind you.

"He's the big one with the mustache and hideous shirt."

You stopped, and he bumped into you, steadying himself with his hands briefly on your shoulders. "Oh," you replied. "Wow. I mean, it's not going to be a problem for me, that's for sure. I just hope he's into it."

Still confused, Jake said, "I wouldn't bother him in the middle of a game of pool unless you come bearing the gift of a beer or a nice set of tits."

You spun around and looked him right in the eye. "What exactly is wrong with my tits?"

"Nothin'," he replied, trying not to look at them in your snug top. "Just trying to give you the lay of the land is all."

When you glanced over your shoulder, he let his eyes dip down below your neck. Certainly nothing wrong there. "Is that his girlfriend?" you asked, turning back to Jake and jerking your thumb in the direction of Phoenix where she stood near Rooster.

"No," he laughed. "But I'd also avoid interrupting her without a beer or your tits ready to go."

"Well, thanks. You've been very informative. One more question," you said, just inches away from Jake in the crowd. "What kind of beer does this Rooster guy like?"

He studied your face closely. He considered himself something of an expert when it came to women, and things weren't completely adding up for him right now. Your words and posture seemed bold and sure, but your eyes were giving you away. There was a nervousness behind them that made him anxious to get answers from you.

"I'll tell you if you finally answer my question."

"What was your question?"

"Why are you here? And what do you want from Rooster?"

"That's two questions," you said with a smirk, leaning a little closer, and Jake just wanted to wrap his arm around you and yank you all the way in.

"You're a real smartass, kid. And I like that in a person. But just humor me with an answer, and I'll buy you the beer myself."

Your lips parted as your gaze drifted down to Jake's chest. Every time you blinked, your eyelashes brushed your cheeks, and it was taking all of his willpower to keep his hands off you. With a deep breath, you almost met his eyes as you said, "I'm here to get laid."

Jake cocked his head to one side until you did meet his gaze. Your eyes still looked unsure. "Explain."

You just shrugged. "What is there to explain exactly? I'm looking to have sex."

He closed one eye and squinted. He could have sworn he only had one drink, but nothing was making sense right now. "With Rooster?"

"Yes. I'm going to try to get him to take me home."

Jake burst into laughter, and you took a small step away from him. "You're not going to have to try very hard, I can tell you that much for sure." You were actually cute as hell; any guy you had your sights set on would be ready to leave at the mere mention of such activities.

"That's what I'm hoping for," you muttered before pressing your lips together.

"Wait, wait," Jake asked with his hands held up in front of his chest in surrender. "Why Rooster?"

You looked a little embarrassed now as you switched your bag from one hand to the other. "My friend told me he was good in bed," you muttered.

"I am so confused," Jake replied, pushing his fingers through his hair. By this point, you were starting to look annoyed, and he didn't want to push, but he wanted to know. If you were going to parade around the Hard Deck in a mini skirt with a fake ID, he needed to know that you were okay. "You're young and attractive. Why did you come here of all places to acquire a hot fuck?" And that's when he got the answer that surprised him as you finally snapped.

"Because, if you must know, I'm a disgrace of a twenty-year-old virgin, and I'm trying to get Rooster to take care of that for me."

"What?" Jake's mind was reeling. He looked from you to the aviator at the pool table and then at your face once more. Then he jerked back a step. A virgin. Huh. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen one this close up before. Not around here, anyway. And, frankly you were hot enough that it did surprise him a bit, even though you were young.

"You heard me," you muttered, playing with your skirt. "Don't make it into a big thing." You shook your head and glanced toward the bar. "What kind of beer does he like? It looks like he has a bottle of Stella."

You were definitely nervous right now, and Jake didn't like that one bit. "Oh, no. You don't want to hook up with Rooster."

"Yes," you insisted, clutching your little purse now. "I do. Because he won't even have to know about any of it. He'll just fuck me. And then I can get on with my life."

When you took a step toward the bar, Jake reached out for your hand. "He's drunk. You want your first time to be with someone who won't have the mental capacity to make sure you enjoy yourself, too? Make sure you come?"

Instead of pulling your hand free, you stopped and looked at the place where your fingers were connected with his. "I'm not worried about coming. I just want to get this over with."

Gently he pulled you closer until your chest bumped his, and then Jake took your chin carefully between his thumb and index finger. "How old are you, really?"

"I'm twenty."

He stroked your lip with his thumb. It was soft and plump and more than kissable. "Twenty," he echoed. "That's not too old, you know."

You smirked. "Thanks. But I'm just trying to be sensible here. I don't need to be in love or anything like that. I'd rather have the experience. Rather get it out of the way so it doesn't hurt when I'm with the guy who keeps asking me out. And this way I'll know what to do."

Once more he touched his thumb to your lip and said, "Show me your real ID."

"Why?" you asked, frowning as his hand fell away. "That was my actual name on the one you saw."

"Just humor me, kid," he said firmly, holding out his hand. If you were only eighteen or even younger, he was going to have to ask you to leave or maybe even get Penny involved before you did go home with one of these horny assholes.

With a huff, you handed it to him. According to the real one, you lived in San Diego. You turned twenty about two months ago. And that really was your name. "When you get a fake, you're supposed to fake the name, too. Everyone knows that. You're in college?"

You snatched it from him and tucked it away with the other one. "Yes, I'm in college."

"Then why the hell are you here right now?" he asked. "You want to lose your virginity so bad tonight? Go stand outside a dorm, and the guys will be lining up for a cute thing like you."

The annoyance and apprehension left your face and were replaced by something different. "Do you really think that's a better alternative than a slightly tipsy, attractive man in his 30s? Because I do not. I'm going for Rooster. But thanks for calling me cute."

Jake was getting so used to your smirk that as soon as you turned away from him again, he missed it. You were heading off toward Bradshaw, and for some wild reason, he was just unwilling to let you do this with him. Rooster wouldn't ask if you were a virgin, and you certainly wouldn't tell him. It might be good for you, and it might not, but Jake thought you should at least be with someone who would try.

"No no no no." He had his hands around your waist, pulling your back against his front. "It's not happening," he muttered next to your ear. "I can call a ride for you, or I can drive you home myself, but that's not going to happen."

You spun around and glared at him. "You said I was cute. I can handle this."

Jake sighed and tipped his face toward the ceiling for a beat as he held you in place with his hands at the middle of your back. "Not with any of those guys," he practically growled through gritted teeth. "I don't know how to make myself any more clear."

You weren't struggling in his grasp, and he knew he should let you go anyway, but he wanted you to agree to letting him get you an Uber. But then you leaned in a little closer with a glint in your eye and asked, "Who's going to do it then? You?"

"Me?" he asked, wide eyes slowly drifting down to your lips. He could feel the leather of your skirt against his pinky as his fingers flexed with the need to keep you close. He could smell your skin and see your pupils growing wider. Your softly parted lips were right there.

You nodded slowly and said, "I mean... I don't even know your name, but I'm sure you could show me the ropes, aviator."

He swallowed hard, eyes never leaving yours. "I'm Jake," he said, his voice lower and needier than he anticipated. "And I need you to tell me what you're going to do if I say no."

Your smirk was back. "Well, Jake the aviator, if you say no, then I'll go ask Rooster and keep my fingers crossed that he's into it."

It wasn't that Jake wasn't keen on the idea of getting his hands all over you, because he was. And that was the problem. He wasn't any better than the rest of the guys. Not really. He didn't deserve to get to have you. But the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced he'd make it good. He wouldn't hurt you or do anything you didn't welcome. And he wouldn't kick you out after a few hours.

"It's a bad idea," he said, and then your lips were on his. You caught him off guard, and after that one gentle kiss, you started to pull away. Your eyes were wide and innocent, and he couldn't stop himself. He chased you for another taste, and it was the sweetest thing he could ever remember. Your hand crept up to rest on his chest as he drew your tentative lips back to his, pulling you snug against his body. Soft kiss after soft kiss left his nose bumping against yours as he whispered, "I said it's a bad idea."

Then you were kissing him again. Harder this time. Your hand went around the back of his neck, and he took a palm full of leather as he squeezed your ass. Oh shit. You were a nice handful for him. Honestly, he could get hard for you right here, and now you surely felt it as he rolled his hips forward against yours.

And then you moaned into his mouth as your fingers slipped up into his hair, and Jake knew it was hopeless. You nibbled on his lip before you pulled a few inches away, looked at him with desire filled eyes, and whispered, "I think it might be a good idea."

"God damn it."

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

Is Jake actually any better than the rest of the horny guys? Is this a bad idea or a good idea? The problem is Jake likes stubborn girls who give him a hard time. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year ago

Text

Barbie Girl 💄 | Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin Imagine

Takes place before, during, and after the events of Top Gun Maverick

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Barbie!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)

Content warnings: light profanity, fluff | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4.3k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @kayla-swiftly)

Premise: They say the sky is the limit and anything you set you’re mind to will be achieved as long as you’re dedicated to it. For most people that testimony is nothing but a mere fantasy. But for one woman, with too many dreams to count on her fingers, she took that statement to heart. Proving you can be anyone you want to be and maybe even a few others give or take 😉

Note: Anyone else obsessed with Barbie lately?? Omg y’all I saw the movie last week and absolutely fell in love and i had this request from around the time the final trailer dropped and knew it was the perfect time to write this. I know I know I haven’t been living up to my promise of being consistent but man they having me working my ass off at my job. Also I’ve been traveling and I saw Big Time Rush last night (i felt like a teenager again and it was amazing 😭) anyway I hope you enjoyed this and let me know what you think!

—————————

“Hi, Barbie!” The familiar greeting fills Y/n’s ears as it does every morning she arrives at the hangar. With it comes an instant smile, hand raising to wave at the person responsible for it, “Hi, Phoenix!”

“Hey there, Barbie,” winks another friendly face.

“Hiiii, Hangman,” her tone is playful like his, turning energetic for Bob when he goes, “Hiya, Barbie!”

“Hi there, Bob!”

“Hey, Barbie.” “Good morning, Barbie.” “What’s up, Barbie Girl.”

“Hello, Rooster.” “Good morning to you too, Fanboy.” “Nothing much, Pay. And yourself?”

Unlike her fellow pilots, clad in their deep green flight suits, Y/n stood out in the crowd for hers was a little unorthodox when one thinks of a naval fighter pilot's uniform.

It was pink. Completely as in her combat boots were also the bright color and the patchers were white and pink tones rather than red, blues, black and any other color seen in the ones attached to her coworkers arms. ‘Barbie’ in pink cursive writing instead of traditional bold Times New Roman lettering.

And don’t forget the little flower dotting the ‘i’.

Growing up, Y/n took ‘you can be anyone and anything you want to be,’ quite literally. At no point was it a joke to her when she would tell her friends and family, “oh I’m gonna be a fashion designer and Olympic Gold medalist when I’m older,” “I wanna go to space, fly in planes, and see all the wonders of the world,” “I’ll be a doctor, a teacher, and movie star!” They’d smile and laugh, thinking it was adorable for a little girl to dream big. No way would it be possible to achieve all of those careers. Everyone only gets one life to live and time goes so fast one can only set their eyes on one path and hope for the best.

But Y/n was a dreamer. And if you’re going to dream, might as well dream big.

All through middle and high school people took Y/n’s intelligence for granted. Focusing more on her beauty rather than brains, it came as an under shock to everyone when Y/n had the credits to graduate at the ripe age of 15. Exceeding in her standardized test scores with a high school resume taking up three pages with extracurricular and academic achievements, she had colleges from all over the country begging for her to apply.

Stanford. Cornell. Pratt. Juilliard. NYU. John Hopkins. Harvard. UCLA. Duke. Top medical and law schools. Ivy League universities. Performing Arts schools calling for auditions after sending scouts to watch her perform in school plays and dance recitals. Coaches from high ranking NCAA gymnastics teams sending emails after emails.

So many to choose from….And so the story of Y/n L/n becoming a real life Barbie Doll begins.

Setting her eyes in New York, Y/n attended not one but two of the best schools in the country. While obtaining her bachelor’s in both astronautical and aeronautical engineering at NYU Y/n also completed a two year degree in Fashion Business Management at the Fashion Institute of Technology. During this time she continued training for the Olympics in hopes of making the 2008 Beijing team in gymnastics.

“How do you do it?” Her roommate at NYU constantly asked. “You go from here to FIT, working on two degrees that are completely on opposite sides of the spectrum and career paths,” she emphasized with hand expressions, “and still have enough to time to go to the gym to practice, eat three meals a day, have all your assignments done early, and sleep a reasonably about of hours each night.” Letting out an exhale, her roommate looks at Y/n as if she’s an alien from another world, “What’s your secret? Are you some kind of Barbie doll the government created as a test robot?”

Each time Y/n would pause, think for a moment before smiling, “I don’t know if I should find that as an insult or compliment, but I’m gonna chose it as a compliment and say it’s because I want to live a life where I can look back on and go, ‘I took a risk and tried something new even if it didn’t look possible but it was all worth it.’”

By the time Y/n turned 20 she had accumulated a vast list of credentials to her name. The list included getting her fashion business degree at 17, Bachelors in astronautical/aeronautical engineering at 19–receiving her Master’s for it at 20–An Olympic Gold and Silver medalist, dancing with the Radio City Rockettes, performing with the NYC Ballet Company in their rendition of Swan Lake, landing a role on Broadway, walking a runway at NY fashion week, and appearing on episodes of SVU, 30 Rock, All My Children, Sex and the City, and Ugly Betty.

So yeah, New York was a success in experiences for Y/n.

Following the high note, she packed her bags to leave the golden apple for the flashing lights of Hollywood, California. This time Y/n was working on her doctorates at USC, running her own business with her fashion degree called ‘Dream Closet’, and auditioning for film and tv shows.

Hollywood was a dream come true just like New York. Again she attended two different schools, this time flight school and USC. During the day she was occupied running from class to the hangar and then the observatory. Coaching dance and gymnastics on the side, designing clothes for her online shop which developed into a pop-up chain store in malls across America.

It wasn’t long until Y/n’s name grew into nationwide popularity. People started realizing the Y/n L/n who won the Gold and Silver medals in the 2008 Olympics was the same one responsible for the most recent fashion trends and guest starring on their favorite tv shows. What really set it in stone was when Y/n landed the role of an engineer officer in the 2009 reboot of Star Trek, going on to appear in both the 2013 and 2016 sequels.

Impressive was the only word her costars could use to describe her. What else was there?

Anytime there was a question involving, “who’s most likely to become president?” “Who’s most likely to try something new or create a new hobby?” “Who’s most likely to win a Nobel Prize?” Along those lines…the answer was obvious.

“Oh Y/n,” Zoe Saldana waves her hand, “Always.”

“Yeah,” Chris Pine agrees with a laugh, “That woman, I-I don’t know how one has the energy to do all that she does—a-and still want to do more.”

The Interviewer laughs with them, “didn’t she just race in the Daytona 500 last year?”

“Yes!! And she did a song with Lady Gaga when they were on American Horror Story,” Zoe’s tone is in absolute awe, “All while teaching at USC and creating new technology at NASA.” Chris lifts a finger.

“Don’t forget she had her own Mac Viva Glam line a couple years ago.” Zoe made a sound along the lines of ‘see what I mean,’.

“I’m telling you, she’s gonna be a name in the history books.”

What all has Y/n accomplished career wise? Let’s take a look.

Model, dancer, actor, singer, fashion designer, entrepreneur, athlete, engineer, race car driver, and professor.

And now she can add pilot to the list. Although she got her license to fly way back in 2009, Y/n didn’t put it to use full time until 2016, wanting to wait until after the release of Star Trek: Beyond to say goodbye to Hollywood for the time being and set forth on her next adventure.

Boy did it come as a surprise what she had planned.

The Manila folder containing her resume hit the desk of the Admiral, his eyes wide as saucers. “You wanna join the Navy?” Reading the front page for a fifth time, Cyclone glanced back at the woman in front of him. Doctor Y/n L/n. Or is it professor L/n? “And you wanna be one of my pilots?”

“Yes, Sir.”

”Ma’am, I apologize if this comes off as offending,” he really didn’t know any other way to put it. “But you are more qualified than any person on this base. Doctorates in aeronautical and astronautical engineering from the University of Southern California,” he counts off on his fingers, “you recently developed a groundbreaking advancement in space technology that’s going to help our astronauts—on the road to becoming a Nobel Prize nominee.” He raises his eyebrows, “And this is only what relates to this career field. I’m not even mentioning your acting, athletic, and fashion credentials. Why join the Navy?”

Y/n only offers a shrug, “I think the better question is, why not?” Cyclone lets out a sigh.

“What did you say your callsign was again?”

“Barbie.”

There was no stopping the small smile trying to break free, “I should’ve guessed.”

After completing OTS there was much debate on what Y/n’s rank would be coming into the Navy. Civilian lawyers and physicians often are Lieutenants (O-3) right away, but considering Y/n had two doctorate degrees and her pilot license they felt it was only fair for her to come in as Commander (O-5). From there Y/n was sent to North Island to attend Fighter Weapons School.

Better known to its flyers as Top Gun.

Y/n was used to the looks she received on a daily basis. From head to toe she was covered in variations of pink depending on what she was feeling. When teaching her briefcase and pantsuit were baby pink, in the labs her coat was hot pink, at auditions she wore pink leather jackets. Even her race car for the Daytona was pink.

Shoutout to Mac cosmetics for the sponsorship.

So it’s no surprise her flight suit would be the color she was known for—despite it being out of regulations.

Being more qualified than your superiors had its perks.

If she could have a pink F-18 she would but unfortunately that wasn’t possible. That was okay for Y/n. After all, she managed to get her own custom flight suit. One which had everyone having to do double takes whenever she walked into a room.

“Is she wearing…?”

“How the hell did they allow that?”

“Does that mean I can have mine in purple?”

Her first day at Top Gun Y/n met Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace. They were paired as roommates in the dorms and quickly became good friends. Phoenix was beyond amazed with Y/n’s accomplishments and experiences. Every conversation led to a new discovery. “Do you ever burn out?” Nat stag criss crossed on Y/n’s satin pink bed sheets, admiring her wall of photos from when she traveled to see all the wonders of both the ancient and modern world. “I feel I’d be a walking corpse from exhaustion. And you mentioned you’re still running and designing clothes for ‘Dream Closet’?”

Y/n removed her diamond studs, placing them on her desk she was using as a vanity. “I have a team dealing with the business side of things for the brand. I’m still CEO and creative director—usually I work on designs for a couple hours before bed to prepare for the next launch.”

Nat was in awe, “I have to ask….what’s been the best career you’ve done so far?” A common question Y/n heard, there was never a true answer. She loved every career. They all had their perks and their flaws, but at the end of the day it left her satisfied she achieved them.

“I don’t know yet,” she spoke truthfully, “I still have a few to check off on my list. When that happens I’ll let you know.”

Fast forwarding to 2019, Y/n answered the phone to Admiral Simpson’s voice with the news she needed to report back to North Island for a highly confidential mission. The details were unknown, but Y/n packed her bags, loaded her pink vintage corvette convertible and high tailed it to sunny San Diego.

The squeals initiated by Y/n and Nat the moment she stepped foot in the Hard Deck had heads whipping in their direction. “Hi, Barbie!” Nat’s arms opened for a hug.

“Hi, Phoenix!” Y/n accepted the embrace, still grinning ear to ear. The guys around them were looking at each other like, ‘what the…?’ Y/n wasn’t in her standard Khakis like they were—minus Rooster. She bore a pink denim number with matching boots with her hair curled and pink eyeliner surrounded by tiny rhinestones.

“You got selected too?” Nat complimented her outfit before cutting straight to the point.

“For the special detachment? Looks like it,” she winked.

“What happened to the Artemis program? Weren’t you up as a candidate?”

“Oh I still am,” Y/n affirmed proudly, “They’ll be announcing who’s to be selected in the coming months. So for now I’m still with the Bounty Hunters. Plus,” she leans in to whisper, “this will look good on my resume.” The two giggle before Y/n drifts her gaze to the boggling gazes in front of her. “Oh! I’m sorry for being so rude. I’m Y/n L/n,” extending her hand to the first person who’s name tag read Fitch, Y/n added, “But you can call me Barbie.”

“Barbie,” the blonde holding a pool cue repeated like a question, “like the toy Barbie?” Nat chuckled, throwing an arm around her friend after she was done shaking everyone’s hand as they introduced themselves.

“Fellas, if there is anyone who is a life sized version of Barbie, it’s this one right here.”

“Now, Phee…” Y/n’s tone was that of, ‘Don’t start.’

“It’s true,” the pilot defended. “Not only is she Commander Y/n ‘Barbie’ L/n,” jaws drop, “but she’s Professor and Doctor L/n.” The jaws hit the floor, “On top of founder, creative director and CEO of ‘Dream’s Closet,’” Javy makes a sound, familiar with the brand, “Emmy nominated actress,” Fanboy chokes on his water, “Olympic Gold Medalist and soon to be astronaut for the Artemis program.” By now all the guys are on the verge of losing their minds.

Bob rapidly blinks, “uh—.”

“Now I’m not an astronaut yet,” Y/n points out, “I’m a candidate for one.” Nat scoffs lightly.

“They’d be stupid not to pick you, Barb,” she then slaps her side, turning back to the guys, “Oh and how could I forget Broadway, Vogue, and the Daytona 500.”

“Daytona 500!?” Payback practically screeches.

“You were on Broadway?”

“—featured on Vogue—?!”

“Wait a minute I recognize you from Star Trek!”

“—How in the hell—.”

“Guys, guys!” Y/n laughs with her hands slightly raised, “Please, one at a time.” They were in for a long night of questions and story times. And just like Nat was years prior when she first roomed with Y/n at Top Gun, the officers were in complete amazement over the woman in front of them. Never had they met anyone like her.

“Wow,” Jake whistled once she finished bringing them up to date on her most recent careers. “You really are a real-life Barbie.”

“Shhhh,” a finger went to her lips, followed by a wink, “don’t tell Mattel.”

And thus the dagger squad was formed. Two and half weeks of hell bearing training preceding a face-with-death mission brings people closer. Every morning Y/n arrived at the hangar to a chorus of “Hi, Barbie.”

She waved at Reuben, “Hi Payback.”

“Hey there, Barbie Girl,” Javy threw her a peace sign.

“Hiya, Coyote!”

“Good morning, Barbie,” Rooster tipped his hat.

“Mornin’, Rooster.”

“Hi, Barbie!” “Hi, Barbie!” Her favorite duo harmonized.

“Hi, Bob! Hi, Phee!”

And for some closer than others….

“You know I was thinking,” Jake commented, taking Y/n’s hand before leading her to the pottery class he signed them up for. Every Friday night was reserved for date night. Dinner and a movie. Walk on the beach. Spending $20 worth of quarters at an arcade. Attending a comedy show. Paint and sip. Following the successful mission, Jake and Y/n hit it off and began seeing each other.

“Famous last words.”

“It’s not bad,” a chuckle left his lips, stopping at the door. “I just thought it was funny. You know how you’re basically Barbie?” His cheeky smile resulted in her mirroring it.

“Yessss.”

“This means I’m pretty much your Ken, right?” The question makes the woman visible ‘awe’. Jake ruffles a hand through his hair and gives his best blue steel, “we kinda look alike. Don’t you think?”

Laughing, Y/n kisses his cheek, “I mean…name a more iconic duo than Barbie and Ken.”

“Barbie and Hangman?”

“Exactly.” It was safe to assume what their Halloween costumes were going to be.

Time went on, missions were run. And after a year of anticipation—though it felt like forever, it was finally announced in 2020 Y/n would be one of the astronauts selected to be part of NASA’s Artemis program launching in 2024.

Making Y/n the first woman to go to the moon.

The call came in from a restricted number when they were in a meeting, and knowing she was to expect a call within the month everyone quickly shut up so the pilot could answer.

She excused herself to leave the room, staying in front of the window so the team could see her. Throughout the conversation Y/n’s expression remained neutral to the point none had a clue whether the news was good or bad. Only when she reentered the room did they get the answer.

“I’m going to the moon!!!”

“Ahhh!!!!” The team exploded in an array of cheers, Y/n jumping up and down, careful not to drop her phone that was in her hands when Jake lifted her in his arms.

“I’m so fucking proud of you!” Despite being unauthorized to show pda in uniform, Jake gave her a big kiss on the lips, not caring who saw. “You are the most exceptional human being on this planet.”

“Jake,” tears welled in her eyes, which he kissed away. Her heart filled with warmth and gratitude. Feeling on top of the world with her closest friends supporting her.

Once all calmed down and they finished the meeting, Mickey jumped from his seat, “Come on Barbie, let’s go party!” Everyone sped to the Hard Deck to celebrate the news. Mav bought the first round, followed by Payback.

“Guys you don’t have to do all that,” Y/n said once she realized they all agreed to buy her drinks for the night.

“We want to,” Nat tapped her beer with Y/n’s cocktail glass, the guys voicing agreements. “For years you’ve been dreaming about this and it’s finally happening. Your hard work is paying off and we want to celebrate—show you we love and appreciate you, Barbie.”

Y/n fought back tears, never afraid to show her emotions. Some may find it childish or thinned skin, but to Y/n that was what being human was all about. “I love you guys.”

“We love you!” The voices echoed together.

The night had been going well with the squad hanging out by the pool tables like they usually did when Y/n approached the bar to pick up the next round Mickey was paying for. Not paying attention to those beside her, she smiled at Penny and repeated the order before waiting patiently.

But what’s a night at a bar without someone who lacks boundaries.

“You must be the one they call Barbie,” a voice says, flirtation seeping through the words. Glancing to her right, Y/n recognizes a gentleman from the flight line whose name she could not recall. “You’re quite the talk around base. In fact, weren’t you in some Hollywood blockbuster?”

“Yes,” she politely responds, keeping the answer short. Though she was known to be a sweetheart and kindhearted to anyone she met, Y/n could tell where the interaction was heading toward and did not feel comfortable entertaining it any further. “A long time ago.”

“I’m Lieutenant Paul Billings,” he extended his hand, and she immediately clocked he was trying to show off his rank. ‘Boy he’s in for a treat.’

Not wanting to make a scene, she accepts the handshake. “Commander Y/n L/n,” there was emphasis on the Commander, displaying the woman was of higher rank and therefore a silent warning to Billings to not cross a line.

There was a flash of surprise on his face. Y/n held back an amused laugh, ‘guess you didn’t hear everything.’

“Something the matter, Lieutenant?”

“No,” he brushes it off, “Nothing. Say,” he nods to the bar, “can I buy you a drink.” Did he not just hear her order a round for the people she came with?

“That’s kind of you,” she starts just as Penny arrives with a try full of cold beers and her usual cocktail. “But I’m all set, thank you.” Hands moving to take the tray, she jumps slightly at the feeling of his own coming to her wrist.

“What about lunch this week?”

“I’m sorry but I am spoken for, Lieutenant,” removing his hold, Y/n takes a step away.

Now Paul had lost his reasonable composure. Scoffing, he says, “What? Am I not enough for you?” The question results in her raising a brow.

“I beg your pardon?”

He makes a face, “You think because you’ve done all these careers and occupations that you’re better than the average person? I’m not a pilot and an actor or researching the cure for cancer while creating a documentary series,” venom seeps through his tone, obviously depicting his jealousy, “Basic is not up to your standards, so you have to throw our failures in our face as if we don’t already know.”

By now a crowd has formed. Jake started moving the second he noticed Billings etching too close to his girl, followed by Nat and the others who were ready to back him up. Behind the bar, Penny was fixing to ring the bell until being stopped by Y/n’s wave of the hand.

“Are you done?”

Paul’s expression was that of, “what?” No audible response was voiced therefore Y/n continued.

“Okay, I’m gonna go ahead and say this, Paul,” Y/n drops her shoulder. The change in body language let Jake and her friends know she wasn’t taking anything that the man said personally. “I know I should be offended by your insults and insinuations, but the truth is I’m not.” A small smile forms on her lips, “I don’t view myself higher than anyone because of what I accomplished. The only person I do that to, is myself—because I don’t have to prove to no one but me that I am capable of achieving what I set my mind to. And yeah,” a light chuckle escapes, “I’ve set my mind to a lot of things—way more than the average person. But that doesn’t mean you or anyone else can’t do the same.”

Pausing Y/n takes a breath before exhaling, “You look at me, and hate the way it makes you view yourself. Makes you believe you’re a failure because you didn’t follow the path you hoped to make for yourself.” Paul’s expression shifts to one of solemnity, like he was thinking of his younger self who had dreams and aspirations. Mourning what could have been.

It made Y/n sad for him. Empathetic despite him attacking her. “One thing I’ve learned over the years…is time is what you make of it. Life is about taking risks. You can still set out to do whatever it is you wish, as long as you’re committing to taking the risk no matter how scary it is. Sure you’ll find obstacles and it’ll feel like the whole world is against you. But determination will guide you through the walls, and you will be successful so that you can look back and think, ‘it was worth it.’ As cliche as it sounds,” she couldn’t hold back a laugh, “Barbie isn’t a person or an object you can obtain. Barbie is a mindset. And you have to unlock it in your own way, Paul.”

It was so quiet in the building, a pin could drop and everyone would hear it. Their looks of awe, admiration, and even newfound motivation by Y/n’s speech. Impressed by how classy she handled what very well could have been a scream match between rival squadrons.

Behind Billings the Dagger squad stood with proud smirks at their friend. Especially Jake, who caught Y/n’s eyes and threw her a wink. Nat gave the woman a salute, a silent gesture to say, ‘you inspire me everyday.’

And Billings? Well he was at a loss for words.

Patting his shoulder, Y/n grabbed the tray of drinks, “I wish you luck, Paul.” Thanking Penny, who gave her a proud nod and replied, “this ones on the house,” Y/n returned to her friends where she was met with a sweet kiss from Jake, claps on the back and “You go girl!” “Tell them who’s boss.” “Damn, you made me wanna go out there and live life the way I should.”

“What’s stopping you, Javy?” she handed him a beer, “the world is your playground.”

A couple hours later it was time to call it a night. Hugs went around, promises to meet up the following night and tabs were closed.

On their way out, Jake dropped a kiss to Y/n forehead, pulling her close to him as he led her to the door of the parking lot, “So what’s next for you, doll? You’ve proved you can be anything and anyone you chose to be,” he grins at her, “What will you set your mind to now after space?”

“First, I want to write a book—I think that’s something a lot have been waiting for me to do. Afterwards, well, I’ll have to wait a couple more years, but,” The corner of Y/n’s lips lift up before flashing a dazzling smile, “I’m thinking….the Oval Office is in need of a makeover. Don’t you think?”

Then, before he could answer, Y/n turns her head in the opposite direction as if she’s trying to find a hidden camera. Makes eye contact with you, the reader, winking before turning back to Jake where she sets off on her next adventure.

…………….

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

#Spotify #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #hangman fluff #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick #TGM imagine #TGM fluff #barbie imagine #babrie!au #jake seresin fluff #dagger squad imagine #dagger squad x platonic!reader

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topguncortez · 1 year ago

Text

Take It | Jake Seresin x Female!Reader

Jake Seresin Masterlist | Main Masterlist

smut prompts!

Synopsis: Jake can usually handle a bit of teasing, but as long as he gets what he wants out of it. Inspired by the scene where Hangman says his infamous "stop" line

word count: 2.0k

warnings: teasing, age gap, oral sex (m receiving), public sex, head pushing, dirty talk, a dash of brat tamer jake, name calling, spit swapping, hair pulling, cursing, tears.

You were being a brat, and you knew it. And so did Jake, who had shot you probably the thirtieth warning glare of the night your way. He was trying to keep his calm, but with the way you were acting, he was ready to throw you over his shoulder and walk out of the bar.

He was wearing his khaki uniform, and so were most of the aviators that stood around the pool table. After a day of work, working on flight plans, and going over training events, the Dagger Squad wanted a relaxing night at the Hard Deck. Jake had stopped by home to grab you, knowing that you had a hard day with classes of your own. You were studying nursing and in your final year. Jake was proud of you, knowing that you had been working hard all week for this exam, and had aced it. He wanted to celebrate.

You and Jake were roughly ten years apart, him being thirty-three and you being twenty-three. You seemed mature for your age when you met, but Jake quickly saw through that front. But he loved it. He loved how you were dependent on him to show you the world outside of the little collegiate bubble you lived in. You weren’t as innocent as some girls your age, but you weren’t as outgoing either. Jake felt protective of you when the two of you went out to local bars, knowing what the college-age male thought when he saw you. Jake was sometimes no better than them. Like right now.

The shorts you wore was barely covering your ass, and with one wrong move, you were flashing the whole bar. He wondered if you were wearing that all day, knowing you, it was highly likely. He loved that you had a fashion sense, your clothes and shoes slowly starting to take up his closet, despite having your own. He could also see the black lace bra you were wearing under your white tank top. You looked as if you could give Cindy Crawford a run for her money. Jake felt his cock stir as you once again bent down to take a shot at the game of pool you were playing.

“Oh no!” You pouted, “I missed.”

“Here, let me help you,” Jake said, pushing up from his barstool. You smirked as he walked over, and put you in front of him. He leaned you over slightly, guiding you to line up the shot. You grind your ass against his semi that was straining in his pants. Jake grunted as he helped you make the shot, “There ya go.” Jake said, and stepped away from you, causing a small whine to leave your lips. He gave you yet another warning glare, but that didn’t deter you at all.

He wanted to see how long you’d keep up the act. You usually give up the act rather quickly if Jake wasn’t giving you wanted. But so far it had been going on for nearly an hour, and he knew that the black panties you were wearing had to be absolutely soaked. You were a glutton for punishment, and he knew it. He knew how much you loved looking at your bruised ass in the mirror the next morning. He had caught you one too many times taking pictures and saving them to a private photo album. Jake slowly takes a sip of his beer as he watches you bite your lip and look down at the pool table.

When Bob shot the final ball into the pocket, you clapped your hands and kissed his cheek. Jake’s grip tightened on the bottle he was holding, and it was a miracle that he somehow didn’t break it. Bob just blushed and patted your back as you skipped away from him, over to the bar where Rooster was standing. Part of the whole act was that you had money on the line, a bet made with Jake’s once enemy. Jake liked to tell everyone that he wasn’t the jealous type, but again, that was another front that everyone could see right through.

“How’s it goin’, sugar,” Rooster said as he looked down at you.

“Good, Roo,” You smiled, “He’s totally looking over here so if I were you, I would do something like put your arm around me,” Rooster smirked and did exactly what you said, his hand settling low on your back.

“This alright?” He asked and you nodded, feeling holes being burned into the back of your head from a certain green-eyed man, “You really want that fifty bucks, don’t ya, sugar?”

“Uh, of course,” You said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “That’s almost enough for me to get my nails redone next week.”

“Well then,” Rooster said and picked up the beer that was placed in front of him, “Let’s go over there and get you that fifty bucks.”

You smirked as Rooster took your hand and guided you back over to the group of aviators. You perched yourself between Rooster’s legs, sitting on his left thigh. He held you securely in your spot, as you draped one of your arms around his neck, your other hand coming up to rest on his chest. If looks could kill, Jake would easily have two more confirmed shots under his belt.

Jake let the act go on for a while longer, watching as your fingers went to play with the gold chain around Rooster’s neck. Jake hated to admit it, but the two of you looked good together. Maybe it was the way that both of your skin tones were perfectly kissed by the sun. Or maybe it was how the two of you fit so naturally together, his hand resting naturally on your hip. Or maybe it was the fleeting glances the two of you would share. If Jake was a fool, he’d think that you had a thing for Rooster. But Jake had what other men wish they could have, he had your heart.

“Oh god, Rooster, you’re just so big,” Your voice is what snapped Jake out of his repertoire and had him looking at you from across the table. You were standing in front of Rooster now, both arms draped around his neck while you leaned in to press a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. Jake saw red as Rooster rested a hand right above your ass. Jake was up out of his chair before he could even think and made his way over to the two of you. You were moving your hand down Rooster’s abs when Jake grabbed your wrist.

“Stop,” You raised an eyebrow at Jake and looked back at Rooster, “We’re leaving.”

“But-”

“No,” Jake cut you off, “You’re not going to sit here and act like a brat. Get up, let’s go.”

You had that glint in your eye, that tiny bit of mischief as you stood up from Rooster’s lap and followed Jake wordlessly through the bar. You tried your best to suppress the giggle in your throat as he led you to the bathroom of the Hard Deck. The moment the two of you were inside, Jake spun you around and shoved you up against the door. You could feel the outline of his hard cock against your ass, making warmth flood through you.

“You gonna explain what you were doing out there with Rooster?” Jake’s voice was gruff as he whispered in your ear, “Or am I gonna have to fuck the answer out of you?”

“I was being nice,” You pouted, “You said I should-”

Jake turned your body around, so you were facing him, “I said don’t be a brat. You were being a slut.”

You bit your lip, trying to keep up the pouty persona, but if there was one thing about Jake, he knew all the right buttons to push to get you to break. He took a step back from you, looking you up and down, before undoing his belt. You didn’t even need to be told to get on your knees, as you dropped before him, mouth already drooling at the thought of having him in your mouth.

“Now you want to be a good girl,” Jake tsked as he walked towards you. With a hand tangled in your hair, he pulled your head back so you were looking up at him, “Always a good girl when you want daddy’s cock.”

“Mhm,” You nodded, licking your lips.

“Then be a good girl, and suck daddy’s off.”

You nodded, pushing down Jake’s boxers and freeing his thick cock from the confines of his boxers. His tip was red and angry, a drop of precum already leaking from it. You licked the tip gently, moaning at the salty taste of him. If there was one thing you knew about Jake, it was that he loved messy blowjobs. You grabbed his cock with both hands, spitting on the tip of it. Jake grunted, watching you through hooded eyes as you rubbed your spit up and down his shaft.

“Hold your tongue out,” He commanded, and you obliged. Jake fisted himself in his hand, tapping his dick on your tongue several times, “You love when daddy’s cock is in your mouth.” You moaned as he rubbed the tip over your lips, mixing saliva and pre-cum over you, “Messy girl,” He chuckled, “Go on, suck me off like the slut you are.”

You nodded eagerly, removing Jake’s hand at the base of his cock. You started slow, licking the tip again and moving down his shaft, making eye contact with him the whole time. Jake sucked in a breath as you wrapped your lips around him and started to suck him off.

“Fuck, there you go,” Jake moaned, keeping a hand in your hair, gently guiding your movements, “C’mon, go deeper,” He encouraged pushing your head down until your nose was flush with the thin patch of pubic hair he had. You felt tears in your eyes, as Jake kept your head down, thrusting his hips into you ever so slowly. You looked up at him with large doe eyes, unshed tears threatening to spill.

“Fuck!” Jake groaned, not letting up as he fucks your face. You close your eyes as you gag around him, squeezing your fists tightly, “Take it. You wanna act like a brat, take it.” You blink twice for yes, feeling his hips start to stutter, knowing that he was close, “Fuck. Fuck, sweetheart. Gonna cum in that pretty mouth of yours.”

You blink twice again, as Jake lets out a loud groan and his hips stop. You moan at the feeling of his cum filling your mouth. He pulls out of you, a thin layer of sweat on his brow.

“Open,” You do as he commands and show him the mouth full of cum, “So good,” He praises, wiping a stray tear from your face, “Swallow for me.” You keep your eyes locked on his green ones as you swallow the cum in your mouth. He tucks himself back into his boxers and dress pants, fixing his belt. Jake then helps you stand from the floor and pulls you into a kiss. He could still taste the saltiness of his cum on your tongue, “What do you say we get out of here and I return the favor.”

You smirk at him, “I have a better idea,” Jake tilts his head to the side, “Can we invite-”

“Nope,” Jake says, “You are mine and all mine. I don’t share.”

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