#then Bradley serenades Jake too maybe

[galehautstomb]

to whoever came up with the "hangster wedding is the equivalent of the royal wedding for the navy" headcanon I'm forever in your debt, that is a god-tier concept, I'm obsessed, those wedding invitations would be worth more than a fighter jet costs

[tgmsunmontue]

From the top 3/? (WIP)

IceMav, (eventual) Explicit, (background Hangster who are already established). Set post-TGM. (No dead Ice obviously).

Featuring not-mistaken identities (where they (Ice and Mav) pretend to be in the dark for REASONS), Ice is Jake's Uncle Tom, Mav is Bradley's Dad, everyone knows everyone, (un)requited love, coming out as an older person, and a little bit of a circus-vibe where Ice has a horrible realization that this is indeed his circus and these are also his monkeys.

An AU where Mav married Carole and adopted Bradley to make things easier legally. A USNA Bradley who has been very careful to separate Dad/Pete from godfather/Maverick. They had an argument prior to TGM, but it was around Maverick being careless with his life (RE: Darkstar because Bradley got the call that Maverick was missing, presumed dead). So it was about risk taking and thinking while flying, so that was happening and Bradley admits to the Dagger Squadron that Maverick is his godfather and they have a ‘complicated relationship’ which isn’t a lie per se, however it’s… complicated.

CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

                Pete is pretty sure he’s chatting with Ice. Tom. He chats the same way he types, all correct with capital letters and punctuation in the right place. Pete does as well of course, but it’s too much of a coincidence that Bradley installed Grindr on his phone and Tom’s cousin’s kid installed it on his phone. And now they’re chatting anonymously. Except Pete is pretty sure he knows exactly who is on the other side. He’s just asked what his biggest secret is, not sure what he’s expecting as an answer because he’s pretty sure he knows all of Ice’s secrets.

>>I’m in love with my best friend.

>>Have been for a long time.

                Pete stares at the words and just… cannot fathom what to say.

                Is Ice in love with Slider?

                Or someone else?

                Before now he’d have thought he was Ice’s best friend.

                Surely Ice doesn’t mean him though.

                Does he?

                He lets the realization that Ice may in fact be talking about him wash over him and Pete can’t help the little flare of hope. He’d never thought that maybe he and Ice could be more than friends. He’d definitely fantasized about it in his quietest and saddest moments, when he’d felt lonely and thought about coming home to him. His friendship has always been enough to sustain him.

                Before.

                Before he’d known that there might even be the slimmest chance. Now though? Well, other than the fact that Ice hadn’t trusted him stings a little, but also he understands, it’s not like he was shouting it from the roof tops. He’d just assumed Ice had known. His fault.

>>I recently found out that my best friend is gay.

                He stares at the message and wonders what Tom will say back. Wonders whether he should maybe ring Slider and do some digging.

>>Oh.

>>Really?

>>Yep.

>>He’s been unattainable the whole time I’ve known him, and I’ve cherished his friendship, thinking that was all I could ever have.

>>I had placed him very firmly in a box marked DO NOT TOUCH.

>>Fascinating.

>>And now?

>>Now I want to sweep him off his feet.

>>Do you think he’ll appreciate that?

                Pete grins to himself and taps out his answer.

>>I’m not going to give him much choice in the matter.

…            …            …

                Tom stares at the words and snorts in amusement, but the slow bubbling excitement is fizzing through his blood as he considers the implications that Mav is going to woo him. He’s never been wooed before, and casting his mind back Maverick is not subtle when it comes to affairs of the heart. Stolen planes and public serenades are definitely his speed. He’s not sure if he’s quite ready to be the recipient of such gestures, but if it’s the choice between having Maverick or not having Maverick he knows what his decision is.

>>So, while I know my kid hoped that I was going to maybe dip my toes in the dating pool with you, I’m going to have to let you down gently…

                Tom frowns, because surely Pete knows it’s him he’s talking to, unless he’s trying to give Tom an out?

>>Well, as I said. In love with my best friend and I’m in no rush to get over him.

>>I wish you luck in wooing your best friend.

>>Thanks. I think I’m going to need it.

>>I doubt that very much.

>>How about you try asking your best friend out?

>>Report back to me?

                Tom rolls his eyes, even without the social clues and seeing Mav in front of him he can tell Mav is teasing and part of him wants to call him on it but he also likes this flimsy excuse of pretending they aren’t going to… do what exactly? Try a couple of dates? Hell. They already do that when Mav is in town.

                Oh.

                Oh no.

                He’s going to have to try and be romantic back.

…            …            …

                It’s their standing weekly dinner when they’re both in the same area.

                Nothing special about it.

                He’d received a message from Ice asking if he was still coming over, he’d answered in the affirmative and then he’s had a little freakout that he was having dinner with Ice. He’d talked himself down, because he’s had so many dinners with Ice he’s lost count. But this is different. It’s a dinner date with Ice. He takes extra care getting ready, has to drive his car rather than his bike, because he’d like the flowers he bought to arrive intact rather than a mash of petals barely holding together.

                He knows he judged right when Ice answers the door. That’s the first difference, because he’s clearly been waiting for Pete to arrive rather than letting him simply push open the door or use the key Ice gave him when he moved in. Huh. He should have maybe considered that action more closely at the time. Secondly, Ice is wearing nicer clothes than usual. So is he of course, but in the dark fabric Ice's legs look even longer than he knows they are.

                “Hey Pete.”

                “Hey. Something smells good.”

                “Thanks.”

                He always compliments Ice on his cooking, but this is the first time he sees or notices the slight blush his comment causes. Fuck. Has he really been this clueless all these years? Then he realizes that Ice is looking at the flowers in his hands. Sunflowers. Because Ice has opinions regarding flowers. Roses are too pedestrian, lilies remind him of funerals, but sunflowers... Those make him smile. Whether a single one or a large bouquet, they never fail to bring a smile to his face and right now is no exception, although it’s a little shy and seeing Ice look so soft makes him want to wrap him up and hold him tight. His heart does a little stutter at the idea that he might actually get to do that, maybe one day soon even.

                “Let me put these in a vase for you…”

                “Thanks. I’ll just go and check on dinner. Glass of wine?”

                “Yeah, please.”

                On his hunt for a vase he spies the table, set for two, and it's not super unusual, but neither is it normal. Most often they usually eat in the living room, plates balanced precariously on their knees. Not tonight. Tonight lots of things are different. Little things, but they’re adding up, one atop of another into something monumentally huge. He turns to find Ice watching him, glass of wine held out between long fingers and he takes it, fingers brushing Ice’s slightly. It’s an accidental brush, but it feels like every hair on his body is suddenly standing on end, hyperaware. He licks his lips, doesn't know if he's imagining it or not, the weight of Ice's gaze on him, but it’s so heavy he can almost feel it on him like a calming weight.

                Things slip back into normalcy, conversation focusing around work and their extended group of friends, and he can almost pretend that it’s two or three weeks ago before he knew that Ice was gay. That Ice is in love with him. The knowledge still sends jittery excitement through his veins and over his skin, and when Ice directs him to the table to eat he doesn’t miss the barely-there hand on his lower back, like Ice isn’t sure it would be welcome or not. He needs to make sure that Ice knows it is, welcome and wanted.

                He settles into his seat and reaches his legs out carefully, then purposely rests his ankle against Ice’s. It’s all so innocent and careful, like they’re equally wary. But he’s always been the one more prepared to take the leap of faith and he notes the little spots of pink high on his cheeks and feels the same thrill as getting tone on a target.

                Bullseye.

…            …            …

                He’s slept with Pete. Spent the night curled together in a bed more than once when they were younger. Purely platonically of course, and he’d been younger, dumber and much more of a glutton for self-flagellation when he’d realized he was in love with his straight best friend. They’d gotten older and they hadn’t really needed to share a bed again, although passing out drunk on the sofa had also happened plenty.

                Needless to say, he’s familiar enough with touching Pete’s body that the simple press of his ankle against Tom’s shouldn’t be as arousing as it is. He knows, logically, that it’s not the touch exactly, that his brain has gone into overdrive thinking about the touch elsewhere. That the possibility of that touch happening is now almost certain after years of fantasizing about it. He fully expects Pete to bring it up, the whole silly situation with the misunderstood identities. Pete’s always faced things like this head on. He doesn’t bring it up though. So neither does Tom.

                They finish dinner, and Pete insists on doing the dishes, which is usual. Neither of them can stand to leave the mess sitting around, too many years of ingrained habit of having to be clean and tidy. He doesn’t miss the way Pete’s body is in his personal space more, every movement feels charged with electricity, making him hyperaware of the distance between them, of the warmth emanating from Pete’s body when he passes close by. He wonders what Pete would do if he just pressed him against the bench and kissed him, lifted him up onto the side table and slid his hands around him.

                He doesn’t do anything of the sort of course, but he thinks about it, each thought getting worse and he finds his pants getting a little too tight. Lord. He’s too old for inconveniently timed erections, this is ridiculous.

                “I’ll go set up the chess board.”

                Pete hums his acknowledgment and Tom wonders if Pete can tell, or knows what kind of effect he’s having. He finds he doesn’t care either way. The evening has felt both familiar and comforting, reminding him why he and Pete have been friends for so long. Layered over it though is a fresh newness, or maybe rather than it been layered over it’s been peeled back, exposing both of them to the potential of more. They play chess and he’s distracted, it takes him longer to win than usual, and the smirk on Pete’s face tells him that he’s perfectly aware of why.

                He really does love the asshole.

…            …            …

                He’s pulling on his jacket when he remembers. Ice is going to Hawaii for two weeks, where he’s meant to be based, and Pete is back in the good graces through his recent heroic actions, despite what Cyclone thinks.

                “I’m headed back to China Lake for some testing. Be gone a few weeks but should be back here by the time you get back.”

                “Hmm. Have a good time in China Lake. I'll see you when we’re both back in town.”

                “Yeah. Of course.”

                Every part of him is screaming to close the distance between them and just grab Ice’s face and pull him down into a kiss but he’s suddenly frozen with indecision. Terrified that maybe he will screw things up. Or maybe just somehow disappoint him. Which he realizes is such a ridiculous thing considering the number of times he’s had to ring Ice and listen to his disappointed sigh on the other end of the line as he’s explained exactly what he’s done and why it’s pissed someone off.

                Huh.

                Maybe he should have figured out that Ice was in love with him earlier.

                Instead he reaches for Ice’s hand and brings it to his lips, brushes a kiss over his knuckles and he doesn’t let his eyes leave Ice’s face. Takes in the widening pupils, his mouth dropping open slightly, and pink stain returning to his cheeks and Pete preens inwardly. Feels so infinitely powerful that he can make Ice look like this without even kissing him.

                “Thanks for dinner Tom.”

                He never uses Ice’s given name, but he uses it now, because this whole evening is about changing their relationship, moving the dynamics of what they have into something more and he wants Ice to know he’s all in.

[coridotmp3]

this song reminded me of you

aka the hangster playlist masterpost (and maybe some of the fics inspired by them)

i have an unhealthy love of character playlists so i wanted to make one semi-organized post to keep track of the hangster ones !! if you want me to add yours, send me an ask or a dm!! if i've posted yours without tagging you, let me know and i'll correct it! (i might make an icemav one too if y'all want)

hangman's direct hits -> glen powell is the biggest hangster shipper around so this counts and you'll never be able to tell me otherwise thank you

songs bradley would play to jake at the hard deck -> "b serenading j all over again" // @crooked-jes

b&j -> also by my love @crooked-jes :)

"hangman you look...good" -> "i'm feeling very normal about these two fighter pilots"

IWTBY -> the accompanying playlist for everyone's favorite hangster nfl fake dating au "i want to brainwash you into loving me forever" // @hangmanbradshaw

uh oh! you fell from your perch! -> do you wanna cry? yes? okay cool listen to this playlist while reading "as he falls from his perch" - you're welcome // @urmomsonfire

ok bagman -> another accompanying playlist !! this time for "the whole time, under the lights" by our favorite @/urmomsonfire

do friends fall in love? -> a fic for what will EVENTUALLY be a hangster when harry met sally au - i just have to finish writing it first :) // @/coridotmp3

hangman. you look...good -> "i am good, rooster. i'm very good || rivals to friends to lovers, found family, and an asshole that cares about his friends more than he let's on" // @miraculousmultifan

hangster ✈ -> "just some bradley rooster bradshaw and jake hangman seresin vibes" (this one is over 15 hours long <3)

summer hangster (top gun maverick) -> "you look good" // @hangsterwheel

all about that slow ride -> "hangman thinking about rooster" also by @/hangsterwheel <3

hangster (lovers to exes back to lovers) -> "actually its: lovers to eves to rivals to friends to lovers" // @keenmarvellover

fucking sereshaw i guess -> "this is going to destroy me i can just tell"

yang on yin -> "bradley about jake" // @/hangsterwheel

yin on yang -> "jake about bradley" // @/hangsterwheel

"let me go. and i'll let you" -> "the exes to fwb to lovers one" // @/coridotmp3

==

i'll keep adding more as i find them, but i figured this was a good start !!

[abliafina-18782]

Top Gun

something to come home to (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

After living and working in San Diego, you meet the handsome pilot Rooster at a bar one night.

melting the Ice (Icemav)

Two months after their mission onboard the Enterprise, Iceman finds out Maverick is leaving Top Gun. Enraged, he travels back to San Diego to find out what's been going on with his wingman...

hold my hand (Icemav)

Iceman reflects on his relationship with Maverick leading up to the mission.

A Seresin Serenade (Hangster)

Jake Seresin doesn't do gifts, but when he and his husband Bradley Bradshaw are approaching their one year wedding anniversary, he does what he can to give his husband the perfect gift.

Tomcat (Icemav)

Maverick was used to unexpected things happening in his hangar out in the desert. However, the seasoned captain was left clueless about what to do, when he found a sickly-looking kitten, hiding inside his hangar.

Mr & Mr Kazansky (Icemav)

Iceman and Maverick are secret agents that get tasked with killing each other, inspired by the movie Mr & Mrs Smith

Raspberry Beret (Icemav)

Soulmate AU, where you have matching symbols with your soulmate.

Effulgent (Icemav)

100 word ficlet exchange.

Sunshine & Roses (Hangster)

Flowershop & tattoo artist AU

Captain Mitchell (IceMav)

After more than twenty years of service, Maverick was due to receive his promotion from Commander to Captain. Maverick wasn’t ready to be a Captain, who was he kidding?

steal me with a kiss (Hangster)

What do you get when you take one ridiculously cocky model and one stubborn makeup artist? A recipe for disaster of course, but with some luck maybe the outcome won't be as bad as initially expected.

get your head in the game (Hangster)

Hangman thought he'd thrown in the towel when it came to his volleyball days, but when Rooster, the handsome team leader from another company, invites him to join the summer tournament he knows he's done for. There were worse fates than spending the day on the beach.

Raggedy Top Gun Manor (IceMav)

It is said that room 86 became haunted after Nurse Charlie died in there. She worked at the Top Gun Manor - a retirement home for naval aviators - until she laid down for a nap one day and never woke up. The Manor closed down after too many reports of bumps in the night and opened up again as a haunted house. Iceman never believed a word of it. Ghosts aren't real. Maverick, on the other hand, takes their jobs as tour guides way too seriously and it might bring them closer together than what anyone expected

To be continued

[princessmisery666]

Found That Lovin’ Feelin’ - Part 5.1 Under The Radar Mini Series

Summary: Bradley checks on the status of his surprise, and Jake tries to make himself believe it’s real.

Warnings: fluff, Rooster and Hangman being idiots (but funny idiots not like their heads are stuck up their asses - again🤣), 

W/C: 655

Characters: Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin, Lieutenant Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, fem!reader (You. Call sign: Huntress).

Pairing: Hangman x Fem!Reader, (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

A/N: Simply because I wanted an excuse to have the mental image of a wet Hangman😜😂

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // @writercole

Graphics: title card made by me, @writercole dividers.

Master Lists: Part 1-5 - Under The Radar // Under The Radar - Drabbles & One-shots

Found That Lovin' Feelin'

Jake can’t stop staring at you. You float around the kitchen, making you both club sandwiches. Your lips are still slightly swollen from his kiss, and the redness off the scratch of his beard is still visible. But that's not why he stares. He’s making sure he’s not dreaming.

He remembers a conversation with you. You were laying on his chest, the coating of sweat holding your bodies together after a fervent fucking session. He was teasing you about how fast you fall asleep after sex, and somehow it led to you drowsily telling him the random fact that you’re unable to read in dreams. So as a test, he keeps reading the time on the oven’s digital display. Though he can read it, he’s still not sure he trusts it because how did he get so lucky? How is it that you are willing to give him a shot? Even he knows it’s a chance he doesn’t deserve, but he knows - and maybe at the moment, he’s the only one who does know - that it’s a chance he will not squander.

“Why are you staring, Seresin?” you ask, cutting the overloaded sandwich in half.

“Just counting my lucky stars, sweetheart,” he says, kissing your cheek while you concentrate on not chopping off your fingers with the large knife.

“Well, count them while you grab us some sodas out of the fridge, pretty boy,” you demand, grabbing the plates and heading outside.

You make it to the sun loungers just as Jake steps out of the house, and your phone rings. 

“Hey, beautiful,” Rooster’s voice travels when you answer while holding the phone up in front of you. “Need help hiding the body?” 

Your laughter is a thing of beauty, and Jake kind of hates that Rooster seems to be the only one that can make you laugh so freely. “He’s alive,” you say, and Jake sees you press the button to flip the camera, so Rooster has proof of life. “For now.”

Rooster chuckles, “You worked it out then?”

“There are still some discussions to be had,” you say, switching the camera back. “But we’re on the right track, I guess.” 

“Ah damn it,” Rooster whines, “now we don’t get to serenade you.”

“Serenade me?” 

“Hangman,” Rooster calls, and Jake quickly rushes to stand behind you, arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder so Bradley can see him too. “Shall we blow her away, or do we save it for the next time you fuck up?”

“Yeah, don’t hold your breath on that, Bradshaw. Actually, on second thought....”

“Now, now, boys,” you tut, “play nice.” Rooster rolls his eyes, and Jake kisses your cheek quickly. “Now show me what you’re talking about.” 

Jake steps away, spins you to face him, and then as if rehearsed, they both begin in low baritone voices. “You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips. And there's no tenderness like before in your fingertips.” Hangman is overly dramatic with the whole show, and Rooster is taking it way too seriously. “You're trying hard not to show it. But baby, baby, I know it. You lost that lovin' feelin'. Whoa, that lovin' feelin'. You lost that lovin' feelin'. Now it's gone, gone, gone, whoa-oh.”

Jake slides across the floor closer to you and kisses your cheek, “you're such dorks,” you say and give Jake one hard shove pushing him to the pool.

You change the camera again, and as he surfaces, Rooster laughs hysterically. 

Jake’s smiling like a goofball when he surfaces. He swims to the edge, takes off his shirt, and throws it at you, but you dodge it with ease. “You either join me,” he offers, “or you can run?” 

“Bye, Rooster,” you say, ending the call and dropping your phone onto the sun lounger. You back up a couple of steps and then run full speed doing a cannonball into the pool.

Part 5.2 - All's Fair in Love, War & the Shower

[ratquesadilla]

3005 (chapter 3)

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x fem! mitchell! oc

word count: 2231

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41505768/chapters/106035918

“it’s an existential thing”

a story where the return of north island's resident player leaves a girl with a lot of influence in a predicament.

chapter 2 - series masterlist - full masterlist

----

jake seresin was a confusing man. naval aviators were cocky and headstrong, no doubt about it. my own father was guilty of that. he would admit he was an asshole when he was at top gun, but uncle tom had a million stories. like that one time when he and goose got all of the pilots to serenade a lady he talked to once. 

but jake was different. he used shitty pickup lines and thought he was a gift from god with how well he could fly, he was a textbook dick. maybe it was me, but a single kiss turned him into a lovestruck idiot. like he had a proper teenage girl crush. there was something about that 6’0” blonde manchild that made me want to break my rule, let another pilot into my life. and now that manchild was on my doorstep, very drunk and very cute. 

“why is there a shitfaced pilot on my porch.” i said, sounding eerily like carole whenever bradley and i would come home after a night of teenage shenanigans.

“hangman here drank a little too much and bringing him back to base would be a huge no-no.” the aviator in front of me replied. 

“i don’t even know your name and you want me to take care of jake?” i questioned, rolling my eyes and reluctantly beginning to lead seresin into the living room.

“it’s coyote.” he said, extending a hand but quickly dropping it. realizing that i had my hands full with the manbaby in my house. “and you wouldn’t do it for free, were all going to fanboys lake house after the mission and you’re invited.”

“deal, but you have to pick him up tomorrow there’s no way in hell i’m waking up at the ass crack of dawn to drive seresin to the base.” i said, leading payback to the door. “and i need a real name, no callsigns in the house. caroles rule, not mine.” 

“javy machado.” he replied, almost at his car “thanks for taking care of hangman, we all appreciate it.” 

this was the last thing i imagined myself doing on a sunday night, especially after the events that transpired at the hard deck. it was bad enough that there was a passed out pilot on my (very nice) couch, but did it have to be seresin of all people? god? i thought, are you mad at me? if this is about me skipping church i’m really really sorry, but did you have to send me a very drunk jake as punishment? seresin was out cold, and it was very late, but i couldn’t leave him to fend for himself. i took his shoes off, leaving them by the door, and draped a quilt over his freakishly tall body. his legs were hanging off the couch, dangling like wilting flowers. part of me wanted to let him go in tomorrow terribly hungover, but i couldn’t. i left him instructions for carole’s magic hangover cure on the coffee table, and laid all the ingredients out in the kitchen. this is just so he doesn’t destroy your kitchen, i thought, and flying with a hangover is never a good idea. someone could get hurt. but the tiny voice in my heart told me otherwise, jake seresin captivated me. i wanted to know everything about him, and i wanted him to know everything about me. 

——

jake was gone when i woke up. so was the note, and everything i’d left out from the night before. the blanket covering the couch instead of folded on the armchair like it usually was. other than that it was like he was never here. i sat where he was sleeping just hours before, trying to figure out how jake managed to get that drunk. at his age he would be able to handle his alcohol, no doubt about it, so why was he more shitfaced than a teenage girl after homecoming? he was cocky but he was smart enough to know when to stop drinking, so a drinking game couldn’t be a possibility, so what the fuck was it? 

i thought about ask natasha, she would probably tell you the truth, but quickly shut the idea down. whatever he did last night was his business. 

——

the rest of the day was a blur; i ran errands, picked amelia up from school (penny was picking up the boat), and visited uncle tom. 

iceman was getting worse, we could all tell, but no one wanted to admit the worst. 

“he thinks of you like a daughter,” sarah said as i was leaving his office, “even if he already has his own.”

“i know.” i replied, tears forming in my eyes. i’d never call him that, but iceman was the closest thing i had to a real father. i’m sure if you asked bradley he would say the same thing. both of us were left fatherless at a young age and tom was there to fill the gap. “has my dad come to see him yet?”

“he was here earlier this afternoon, i didn’t mean to eavesdrop but pete got him to speak again.” 

“that’s good.” i whispered. my father and icemans relationship was complicated, there was an unspoken understanding that they were in love with each other. you could see it whenever they spoke, or hugged, or even maintained eye contact. tom iceman kazansky and pete maverick mitchell were in love, even if they couldn’t be together. it was a million types of love all combined into one unstoppable force. it was the love that carole had for bradley, the love that she had for goose. it was the love that every pilot in top gun had for flying. no matter how far they were the love they had for each other couldn’t be severed. 

i thought i had that with mark, i tried so hard to get that with him. all my life i wanted someone to get that love, to have that connection with someone. with mark it was a wanting to be stepped on feeling, i let him treat me like shit because at least he’d treat me at all. i did everything i could to replicate what pete and tom had, even if it meant staying with a piece of shit. 

“speaking of pilots coming by the house.” sarah said. “one of the returning pilots came over just before you got here. said something about needing to get your uncles blessing.”

“that’s jake,” i replied, a smile forming on my lips. i wiped the tears off my eyes with the sleeves of my jacket. “i didn’t think he would seriously come.”

“that boy is a keeper, none of your boyfriends have ever tried that hard to get tom’s approval. they were in there for nearly an hour.”

“did you hear what they said?” i asked.

“i did,” she said, pulling me into a hug. “but if you want to find out you’ll have to ask him yourself.” tears were forming again. 

“i love you, i really do.”

“i know baby, i love you too.” she pulled away, and began dabbing the tears off her cheeks with a tissue from her pocket. “you give ‘em hell mallory. 

——

the hard deck was slow tonight. the regulars were there, it was in their name after all, and a couple top gun boys came in. i wasn’t sure what their names were but i planned on learning. i closed early; there weren’t many people left after 12 on weekdays, and i was tired. visiting iceman was exhausting sometimes, especially when he wasn’t doing good. 

i took the scenic route back, stopping at the parking lot of the old blockbuster where iceman taught me and bradley how to drive. it got converted into a target when i was in college, and carole sent me a string of angry texts complaining about how the america she knew was being ruined. 

i stopped at the playground where bradley and i got high for the first time. we stole a blunt from lacey shank’s older brother and fought about where we would smoke it for a week before we got tired and did it on the swingset because we were paranoid if we left it at home any longer carole would find it. 

i drove past the pop up ice cream shop where i had my first kiss. it was the middle of july and i just wanted to get it over with, bradley left me to hang out with alyssa warner on the boardwalk so i grabbed the first boy i could find and asked him if he would kiss me. he tasted like salt and fish that had been left out too long. 

and i parked at the italian restaurant where mark broke up with me for the last time. we had planned to eat out for our 4th anniversary, but he was an hour late. i sat in the claustrophobic booth waiting for him to show up, and when he finally did i had reached my limit. i wanted to scream at him and hit him and do anything to get the last however many years of my life back, but all i did was tell him we were over and drive away. 

when i returned home i expected to see bradleys truck parked in the driveway. but instead of the dirty blue truck i was used to, there was a shiny black pickup in it’s spot. and there was a tall, blonde, aviator standing on my porch. it was dark, but the dim lights on the porch illuminated his face. bugs were drawn towards the light, and his eyes were drawn towards me as i began making my way towards him. “i talked to your uncle.” he said, leaning on the post by the stairs. 

“i think you mean admiral kazansky,” i said. strolling past him and sliding my keys into the door. “i may not allow callsigns in the house but you still need to respect your superior.” the door eased open and i began to take off my shoes as i entered the foyer.

“you don’t wanna know what he had to say?” jake asked, staring at the picture of me, carole, rooster, goose, and maverick framed and hung on the wall behind me.

“i’m sure you had only nice things to say about me.” i replied, “god knows you wouldn’t be standing here if anything negative came out of your mouth at tom’s house.” grabbing his hand i led him into the house. “close the door bagman, i don’t want to let spiders in.”

“what happened to no callsigns?” he joked as he began to unlace his boots, placing them by the umbrella holder. 

“i never said no nicknames, or petnames.” i responded, making sure to whisper the last part. “do you want dinner? i was already planning on cooking for two.”

“i’d love something to eat sweetheart.” the petname was apart of his regular vocabulary, no doubt about it, but something about the way he said it sent blood rushing to your cheeks. if i wasn’t in the middle of connecting my phone to the speakers, my hand’s would have started shaking like crazy. 

“pick up a knife and start cutting,” i said, deliberately turning away from him and towards the cool fridge in an attempt to pull the redness out of my face and towards somewhere less noticeable. after spending a little too much time in the frosty safe haven, carole was probably scolding me from heaven, lecturing me about wasting energy, i emerged from my hole and handed jake a packet of chicken. “cube that.”

“will do, m’lady.”

“less talking more cutting.” seresin was charming, there was no denying that. he had managed to win over tom and sarah, which was no easy feat, and he was determined. if he wanted something, he got it. as i bent over to grab a cutting board from the cabinet under the island, “let’s hear it for the boy” began playing over the speakers. unless you were paying very close attention to him, you wouldn’t be able to catch jake very quietly humming and moving (very slightly) along to the song. “oh my god!” i exclaimed. he turned around alarmed, a look of concern splayed across his face. “you like footloose!”

“jesus christ you scared me mallory,” he said, setting the knife down to grab my arm and spin me around. “but you’re wrong.”

“i’m never wrong.” i quipped, sticking my tongue out at him. 

“but you are.” he replied, letting go of me. “i don’t like footloose, i love it.”

“god you are so corny.”

“you know it baby.” jake said as he returned to his cutting. 

that moment played in my head for the rest of the night. everytime i looked at jake i could his arms spinning me around again, everytime we made eye contact. it was all i could think about. we made casual conversation, neither of us mentioning the other night. i didn’t want to talk about the creep and i assume he didn’t wan to talk about why he showed up at my house in the middle of the night blackout drunk. and when it came time for him to leave, i packed him leftovers and planted a kiss on his cheek. “i’ll see you soon seresin.”