#top gun maverick ocs

[thewulf]

When the Laughter Stops || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - I was wondering if you could do one with Jake Seresin where him and the reader are co workers (but they liked each other a lot and are idiots) and she flirts with him a lot, like constantly and he mostly just laughs it off but flirt back sometimes, but she suddenly stops one day and is very quiet and he's worried... Read Rest Here

A/N: Gosh I just love Jake. I really hope they make another TG movie with our boy in it <3 Thank you for the request @stuffingbuttsandshit

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.3k+

T/W : Violation (Not Jake), Talk of Weapons, Talk of break in

Mornings at North Island always started the same way.

Your headset was already on, comms running smooth as you relayed flight data to Mav and the rest of the squadron. You had everything under control because that’s what you did. You were the best at what you did. And you knew it. You didn’t spend years at the Academy and across the country to be mediocre at your job. You were good and you knew it.

Jake Seresin knew it too.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” came the familiar, honey-dipped drawl over your shoulder before he even stepped into the control room. You grinned into your headset. He was right on schedule as always.

You didn’t turn around immediately instead letting the anticipation hang for a second longer before glancing over your shoulder. He was leaning against your desk, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with that insufferably handsome smirk that was as much a part of him as his damn callsign.

“Hangman,” you greeted, flashing him an easy smile. “Looking as sharp as ever. It must really be exhausting carrying around that much charm all the time.”

His smirk deepened as he took you in. “It is, actually darlin’. But I manage.”

You made a show of giving him a once-over. That green flight suit zipped halfway, dog tags resting against the fabric of his undershirt and that confidence oozing from every pore. Annoyingly attractive, you noted. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud. But damn, the man was hot as hell.

“Good thing I’m here to keep you humble,” you teased while tapping your earpiece as the radio crackled.

Jake leaned in slightly, just enough that you caught the faint scent of his aftershave. The scent curled through the air: rich sandalwood, and cedar laced with smoky vetiver and that deep warmth of amber and musk. Dark, refined, and impossible to forget. Just like man who wore it. And who was currently staring a hole in the side of your head.

 “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t wanna do that. What would you flirt with if I wasn’t around?” He gave you a devious smirk as his eyes traced your face.

You arched a brow, lips curling. “Oh, I’d manage.”

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head like you were something impossible. “Damn shame sweetheart.” This was the rhythm. The effortless push and pull. The game neither of you called by name but both played with unmatched skill.

“Seresin, you done harassing my officer?” Maverick’s voice cut in from across the room with nothing but amusement lacing in his tone.

Jake straightened slightly but didn’t look away from you. “Just making sure my sweetheart starts her day right, Mav.”

You shot Mav an eyeroll before turning back to Jake. “Aw, how sweet of you Jake.” You cooed at him.

Jake hummed, tilting his head. “Sweet’s not usually what they call me, darlin’.”

The way he said it, low and teasing, sent a thrill up your spine. But you didn’t let it show. Instead, you reached for the mission brief on your desk, casually brushing your fingers against his arm as you passed it to him.

“Guess I’m just special then,” you said with an easy grin.

His eyes flickered with something. Something unreadable. Something dangerous. But the moment passed as quickly as it had come.

“Guess you are,” he murmured. His voice softer this time.

And just like that, he was gone, heading out to brief with the others, leaving behind the faintest trace of his presence. You exhaled, shaking your head to yourself. Yeah. This was the rhythm. At least, it had been. Until everything changed.

Until last night.

Until you woke up to the sound of your front door creaking open.

Until you reached for the bedside drawer, heart pounding, breath shallow, fingers closing around the cold metal of the weapon you kept there. The weapon you dreaded ever having to use.

Until you saw him. A dark figure standing at the foot of your bed, a knife glinting faintly in the sliver of moonlight filtering through your curtains.

Your body had moved on instinct, years of training kicking in before fear could fully take hold. The moment you pointed your weapon at him, he hesitated just long enough for you to move. You sprang from the bed, voice sharp and unyielding, ordering him to back off. And then just as quickly as he had come he was gone. Like a wraith in the night.

The cops arrived minutes later but it didn’t matter. He was already long gone, leaving behind nothing but an overturned chair, a shattered sense of security, and the lingering imprint of fear in your bones.

You barely slept after that, sitting with your back to the wall, weapon still gripped tightly in your hands until the sun started to rise.

And now you were here, at work, trying to pretend like nothing had changed. But Jake knew you too well. So, when he walked into the control room, expecting your usual teasing grin, expecting the flirtation that had become second nature between you. He immediately noticed the difference. You were at your desk, headset on, posture stiff, eyes trained on the monitors like they held the secrets of the universe. No smirk, no playful roll of your eyes when he approached. No wink. No greeting.

And that was the first sign that something was very, very wrong.

Jake frowned, slowing his stride. He leaned against your desk, arms crossing over his chest in the same lazy way he always did, waiting for you to acknowledge him. Nothing.

He tilted his head. “Morning, sweetheart,” he drawled, watching for a reaction.

Your fingers stilled on the keyboard, just for a second, but then you resumed typing like you hadn’t heard him. His frown deepened. Okay. Maybe you were just busy. Maybe Mav had you swamped with flight schedules or logistics nightmares. Maybe.

But then he really looked at you.

Your usual fire, the effortless confidence that made your job look easy was gone. In its place was something tight, something controlled. He followed the subtle tension in your shoulders. The way your jaw stayed clenched even as you kept working. Something wasoff.

“You sick or somethin’?” Jake asked, lowering his voice, trying to meet your gaze.

You finally looked at him but the second your eyes met his you blinked quickly and dropped them again. “I’m fine,” you said too flatly. Too rehearsed. With no emotion in the usual boisterous voice of yours.

Jake’s stomach twisted. Bullshit. You weren’t fine. He knew fine, and this wasn’t it. But what he didn’t know was why. For the first time since meeting you, Jake felt the shift. The invisible wall you’d put up overnight, cutting him out without warning. And he hatedit. Where there should’ve been fire, there was only silence.

Jake tried to ignore it at first. Maybe you were just having an off day. Maybe you were tired. Maybe whatever had drained the light from your eyes would pass on its own.

But as the day dragged on, he knew that wasn’t the case. You barely spoke, sticking to clipped, professional responses when you had to interact with him or anyone else. You kept your head down, shoulders drawn in. It was so unlike you. It made his skin itch.

Then, when someone brushed past you in the hallway. Just a casual, harmless pass. You flinched. It was small, barely noticeable, but Jake saw it. And that was all it took. His blood ran cold. He knew that reaction. Had seen it before. And it sent every instinct he had into overdrive.

The rest of the day, he didn’t leave you alone. Not in a way that would spook you, but he made sure he was always nearby, always watching. You barely acknowledged him and that was the final crack in his patience. By the time your shift ended, he was donewaiting.

You had just stepped outside the hangar when he caught up to you. He moved fast enough that you had no choice but to stop. "Sweetheart," he said. And this time his voice wasn’t teasing, wasn’t lazy or smug. It was quiet. Steady. Serious.

You hesitated, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. “Jake, I—”

“Something’s wrong,” he cut in. His green eyes searching your face. “And I need you to tell me what it is.”

Your breath faltered. You didn’t answer right away but the way your gaze darted away. The way your lips pressed together like you were afraid to speak made his stomach twist. He softened, stepping closer, his voice dropping even lower. “Hey. It’s me, alright? Just me. You can tell me.”

You swallowed hard. And then finally your walls started to crack. “I—” You exhaled shakily, like forcing the words out might break you. “Someone broke into my house last night.”

Jake went still.

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you continued. “I woke up and he was just there. He had a knife… I think he would have tried to grab me. But I fought back, I scared him off but…” You sucked in a breath. Shaking your head unbelieving that this had even happened to you. “He ran before the cops got there. They haven’t found him. They won’t find him most likely.”

Jake’s fists clenched. His entire body went rigid. His jaw locking so hard it ached. Jesus Christ. The thought of you alone, terrified, fighting off some bastard in the middle of the night made his vision go red. He wanted to break something. No, he wanted to findthe bastard who did this. But right now, none of that mattered. Right now, you mattered.

Carefully he reached for you. His fingers grazing your wrist before he slid his hand fully over yours. His grip was firm, grounding. Warm.

“Jesus, darlin’,” he murmured. His voice tight, lethal with restrained fury but when he looked at you again all he let you see was the concern. The unwavering steadiness. “You’re safe now, okay? I promise you, you’re safe.” And for the first time all day, your body eased just a little. Just enough.

You weren’t sure who moved first. One second, you were standing there, raw and exposed with your confession hanging in the air between you. The next, Jake’s arms were around you, solid and steady, pulling you against his chest. And you let him. The moment his warmth surrounded you, the breath you had been holding all day broke free in a shaky exhale. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his flight suit, gripping tight, grounding yourself in him. Breathing in the woody scent that always seemed to coat him.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just held you. And God, you hadn’t realized how much you needed it until now. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. His voice a low, steady rumble against your ear. “You’re safe. No one’s scaring you again, I swear it.” You knew his words weren’t empty promises, weren’t meaningless reassurances. They were a vow.

Jake pulled back just enough to look at you, one hand lifting to cup the side of your face. His thumb brushing lightly along your cheek. “You’re not staying at your place alone tonight.” He said with such conviction.

You blinked up at him. “Jake—”

“Not a chance, sweetheart.” The smirk was there, but softer, missing its usual cocky edge. He tilted his head. “You really think I’m gonna walk away after what you just told me? Not a chance darlin’.” Your resolve wavered. You should tell him you’ll be fine. That you don’t need him hovering. But the idea of being alone in that house, of walking through those doors and feeling that fear claw at you again…

You swallowed hard and nodded. “I have a guest room,” you murmured. “You can take the guest room.”

Jake’s smirk deepened. “Whatever you say, darlin’. I’ll sleep on the porch if you want.” You smiled softly. Jake had a way of doing that for you. Charming bastard he was.

Jake didn’t waste a second when he got to your home. The second you stepped inside he was already moving. He checked the locks, testing the windows, making sure every single point of entry was secure. You stood off to the side watching as he knelt by your front door, brows furrowed in concentration as he worked to reinforce the deadbolt.

“You know,” you said while crossing your arms, “I could’ve called a locksmith for that.”

He glanced up, flashing you that signature Jake Seresin smirk. “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t get to prove to you that I’m useful outside the cockpit.” You rolled your eyes but for the first time all day there was the tiniest tug of amusement behind it. And Jake saw it. Reveled in it.

After he was satisfied that your place was Fort Knox-level secure, he finally let you settle. The tension still lingered, though thin, stretched tight under your skin. He noticed it in the way your shoulders stayed rigid. In the way your fingers curled slightly like you were bracing yourself for something.

So, he did the only thing he knew how to do.

He made you laugh.

You weren’t sure when the tension finally started to ease but at some point you found yourself curled up on the couch half-listening as Jake recounted some absurd training exercise where Phoenix had absolutely wrecked him in a dogfight.

“—I swear to God, I had her, I had her, and then at the last second, she pulls this insane move out of nowhere. Next thing I know, she’s behind me, cackling like a damn supervillain and I’m dead in the water.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “I bet she lovedthat.”

“Oh, she hasn’t shut up about it since,” Jake admitted, shaking his head in exasperation. “I’ll never live it down. Worst part is, Mav saw the whole thing. Didn’t even bother hiding the smug look.”

You let out a small laugh and Jake stilled. It was quiet, barely there, but it was real. His smirk softened, something shifting behind his eyes. For the first time ever, he really looked at you. Not just as the woman who sparred with him, who kept up with his banter, who never let him get the last word. But as you. The woman who had been terrified last night. The woman who had been shakentoday. The woman he never wanted to see rattled like that again.

You felt the shift too because your smile faded slightly. Your gaze flickering over his face like you were searching for something. Your voice was quiet when you spoke. “Thanks, Jake.”

His throat bobbed. The muscles in his jaw flexing like he was holding something back. He should’ve said something. Should’ve teased. Should’ve smirked and drawn out the moment. Should’ve eased you back into the comfort of your usual game. But he didn’t. Because this wasn’t the game anymore.

His hand lifted before he could stop himself. His fingers brushing along the side of your face. His thumb grazing your cheek so lightly, so gently, like he was afraid you might disappear if he wasn’t careful.

Your breath caught but you didn’t move away. Didn’t say a word. Couldn’t say a word. And then your eyes flicked down to his mouth just for a second, but long enough. Long enough for him to see it. To feelit.

His pulse kicked hard against his ribs, a slow, building pressure coiling in his chest, in his gut. Jesus. You wanted this. You wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you.

Something cracked wide open between you in that moment. Something unspoken but undeniable. Something that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long it was a wonder it hadn’t boiled over sooner.

Jake’s breath was warm against your skin as he leaned in, his nose barely brushing yours. Giving you the chance to back away if you wanted. He could feel the way you inhaled sharply. The way your fingers curled slightly into the fabric of your hoodie like you were holding yourself back.

His thumb traced the edge of your jaw. His voice dropping to something barely above a whisper. “Don’t thank me, darlin’.”

And without thinking, without second-guessing, without giving either of you a chance to step back. He kissed you. It was slow, like he had all the time in the world to memorize the way your lips felt against his. It was lingering, like he wasn’t sure if this was the first or the last time he’d get to do this. It wasn’t playful. Wasn’t teasing. It was real.

When he pulled back, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward, wasn’t tense. It was heavy with something unspoken. With something waiting to be acknowledged. But instead of speaking Jake just gave you one last lingering look before pressing a softer barely-there kiss to your forehead. A silent promise. A quiet reassurance.

“Get some sleep sweetheart,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

The scent of fresh coffee pulled you from sleep. For a moment, you lay there, disoriented, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through your curtains. Your brain slowly caught up. You hadn’t made coffee. And there was only one other person in your house who would.

Jake.

You pushed back the covers and padded toward the kitchen. The wood floor cool against your bare feet. And there he was.

Jake Seresin stood at your stove pouring coffee into two mugs like he’d done it a hundred times before. His flight suit jacket was still draped over a chair, but he’d changed into the sweatpants you’d tossed at him last night. The fabric hanging low on his hips in a way that was far too distracting this early in the morning. His hair was still messy, slightly sleep-ruffled, and for some reason that made your stomach do something ridiculous.

He looked comfortable here. In your space. Like he belonged. And you liked it. Liked the way it looked. Liked the way he looked. God help you.

At the sound of your footsteps he turned, flashing you a grin. “Mornin’, sweetheart.” He held out a mug. “Figured you might need this.”

You crossed your arms but took it anyway, inhaling deeply before your first sip. Perfect. Of course, he makes perfect coffee, too. “Didn’t take you for a domestic type, Seresin,” you muttered, lifting an eyebrow. Trying your best to look annoyed but you were anything but that.

Jake smirked while leaning a hip against the counter. “You saying you expected me to sneak out before sunrise?”

You hummed, taking another sip. “Wouldn’t have been the first time a Navy pilot bailed on me.”

His smirk faltered just slightly. Just enough to make your lips twitch. “Not my style, sweetheart,” he said, shaking his head. Then after a beat he nudged your elbow. “You slept okay?”

The teasing had softened and the warmth in his voice caught you off guard. You hesitated, fingers curling around your mug, but the truth easily came this time.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I did. I slept more than okay.” Because knowing he was just a room over made it easy to relax. Jake studied you for a second. His green eyes sharp, thoughtful, like he was making sure you meant it.

Satisfied, he clinked his mug against yours, smirk returning full force. “Good. ‘Cause I make a damn good bodyguard. But I make an even better breakfast. What’s it gonna be, sweetheart? Eggs or pancakes?”

You blinked. “You’re making breakfast too?”

Jake gave you a slow, lazy grin. “Oh, darlin’, you think I’m lettin’ you start your day without a full meal andmy charming company? Hate to break it to you, but you’re really bad at getting rid of me.”

You scoffed while shaking your head. “Unbelievable.”

“Charming,” he corrected, winking.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to fight, “Pancakes. I like my breakfasts sweet.”

He gave you that devilish grin, “Noted darlin’.”

And just like that. That something between you and Jake Seresin shifted. For good.

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[simpforrooster]

actually, it’s captain.

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!reader

summary: request for @kpopgirlbtssvt. rooster’s girl is hit on by Top Gun students.

t/w: touch her, you d i e trope. cursing. mentions of alcohol.

Rooster leans against the bar, laughing at something Penny tells him. His jeans hang low on his hips, and he’s wearing the Hawaiian shirt you bought him for his birthday.

Rooster’s hand slaps the bar as he continues to howl. Penny and Mav exchange a look. Maverick murmurs something to Penny. Your guess would be “it wasn’t that funny.”

You throw back the rest of your drink. As your glass returns to the table, a group of men circle you, all clad in khaki. Must be new Top Gun recruits.

“What’s a pretty little gal like you sittin’ here alone for?” one of them asks you, his accent very similar to Hangman’s.

“Mind if we join ya?” the second asks. Before you can reply, two of the slide in across from you, while the one who spoke first sits next to you. His burly arm comes up around your shoulder. You stiffen under him, feeling small.

And not in the way you feel with Rooster. He makes you feel small, protected, but also empowered. This guy has a hold on you like he’s claiming you. Telling every other guy in the bar he plans on taking you home.

“This here’s Crane and Sorry,” he points to the two in front of you. “And you can call me Pleasure. As in, it’s a pleasure to meet you. As in, the way all ladies feel after a night with me.” He winks. He actually winks.

Your brain is so shocked, you can’t form words. You should take this guy’s arm and bend it behind your back, the way your dad taught you. You should give him on of your grade-a verbal lashings.

But you don’t. The sheer audacity of this man has you frozen.

You try to make eye contact with Rooster, but Pleasure’s frame blocks your view.

“Get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster’s voice makes a relieved breath come from your mouth. His tone of voice would make anyone run for the hills, but it leaves you full of wanting.

Pleasure chuckles, meeting Rooster’s gaze. “Actually, it’s Lieutenant.”

Crane and Sorry exchange an amused look. Rooster’s face is set in a hard line. He reaches for Pleasure’s bicep, ripping him from the booth.

“I said to get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster is a whole head taller than the aviator that just had himself draped on you.

“Shouldn’t leave your girl all alone, dick.” Pleasure tells him, bowing up. Rooster’s mouth pulls up on the left, giving him one of his infamous cocky smirks. Second only to Hangman’s.

“Actually, it’s Captain. And I hope to God you’re in one of my classes. Lieutenant.”

At this, you see Pleasure audibly gulp, knowing he’s fucked up. Rooster still has a death grip on his arm.

“Come on, man. Make my day,” the words come out laced with venom.

Before things can get out of hand, you hop out of the booth and high tail it to Penny. Quickly giving her a synopsis, she rings the bell, signaling these guys need to be thrown out. Hangman, Omaha, and Coyote each grab one of the guys and drag them to the exit.

Rooster joins you at the bar, taking your face in his hands. Those brown eyes roam over you, searching.

Your hands come up to cradle his face, “Roos, I’m fine.”

“When I saw him draped over you, I saw red. Nobody touches my girl.” He leans down to place a kiss against your temple. Rooster’s words have your toes curling in your shoes. You’ve never seen this side of him.

You lower your hands to his shoulders, threading one of them in his curly hair that’s definitely longer than Military regulation.

“You’re the only one I want touching me,” you murmur in his ear, your face flushing.

“Yeah?” he murmurs back.

Not trusting your voice to not come out completely needy, you nod.

“Come on, guys. Quit being disgusting,” Maverick says to the two of you, feigning gagging.

Penny pops his hand over the bar, eliciting a laugh from him.

Rooster ignores him, placing a deep kiss onto your mouth.

“Take me home, baby,” you say, taking in those brown eyes.

“I don’t know, pretty girl, I don’t think I can get further than the Bronco,” he winks.

masterlist.

[topgun-imagines]

Say My Name

Requested: no

Summary: You find out just how big Bradley is. He really does live up to his call sign.

Word count: 3.4k

Note: banner by @lewmagoo

Warnings: smut, oral sex (f!recieving), fingering, anal fingering, size kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, cum play. Please let me know if I missed anything!

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

The air in the bedroom was filled with tension. You were on your third glass of wine and Bradley had just begun pouring his second. Nerves surged through you. Tonight, you were planning on having your first time with Bradley. While the two of you had been dating for nearly seven months, you had yet to sleep together. The thought had you nervously fiddling with the hem of your short skirt.

Bradley had made the two of you a nice dinner before leading you to his bedroom. Despite how much you wanted this, you couldn’t settle the butterflies in your stomach. Sure, you had slept with others before Bradley. However, given the things that you had heard about him from his fellow pilots, you felt more nervous than usual as you stared at the gold chain he was wearing. You had done some sexual stuff with the pilot before, but you had yet to see what he was packing. Honestly, that was what had you the most nervous.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore the teasing from the rest of his squadron about his size, you simply couldn’t. Not when Jake kept making crude remarks about his callsign having some sort of double meaning and teasing you about what he saw in the locker rooms. You could never get away from it. Now, you couldn’t help but find yourself staring at the bulge straining in his jeans.

His deep chuckle was what broke you out of your trance. “See something you like, Princess?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. You blushed deeply, sipping the last drop of wine from your glass. “C’mere.” He rasped. Instantly, you obeyed, crawling into his lap and straddling his thick thighs. His glass was set on the nightstand before his hands came to sit on the tops of your thighs.

The tickle of his mustache as he peppered kisses across your neck had you squirming in his lap. You clenched around nothing at the guttural groan he let out. From where you were sitting right now, you could tell he was big. Moaning quietly, you nearly melted when Bradley gripped your hips and pulled you down closer to his growing bulge.

“Bradley,” You moaned out with barely concealed need. Another grunt was released into your neck. “Fuck,” Panting with your head tossed back, the feeling of Bradley’s lips travelling down your chest had you shivering. “I need you. Please.” It was the neediest sound you had ever made in your life.

Time seemed to stand still as Bradley lifted you off his lap. You whined at the loss of warmth before laid you down on the bed and crawled on top of you. Cooing quietly at your pitiful whine, the pilot smirked at your frantic state. As Bradley continued to kiss down your neck, your chest was rising and falling quickly. “I’m gonna make you feel real good, baby girl.” His words were a promise; one that you knew he would make good on.

Your blouse was slowly unbuttoned as Bradley peppered kisses across your soft skin. When he finally reached the last button, you were out of breath, panting loudly. Now, you were left in nothing but your lacy bra and short skirt. Unbeknownst to Bradley, you had nothing on under that skirt. Feeling Braldey’s mustache tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach had you wanting to giggle. But the pleasurable warmth in your core had you moaning out instead.

Next, Bradley began massaging your thighs, shimmying further down the bed until he was level with your thighs. You breathed in deeply, nerves rearing their ugly head again. Ever so slowly, Bradley reached under you and pulled the zipper of your short skirt down. It took every fibre of your being to focus your breathing. Bradley had eaten you out before, but knowing what would be coming after had you shaking.

Your legs parted enough so that Bradley could slot in between them, knees bending and feet planted firmly on the cool sheets. Before you even realized what was happening, Bradley had your legs tossed over your shoulder and he was softly nipping the sensitive insides of your thighs. When Bradley lifted his head, he was met with the sight of your bare, puffy cunt. He groaned loudly, his cock managing to harden even more in his tight jeans.

Seconds later you were met with the feeling of Bradley’s tongue running over your slit delicately. Instantly, a sharp cry escaped you. Tangling your fingers in your boyfriend's curly hair, you tugged when his lips sealed around your clit. The feeling had you arching off the bed, your heels digging into the pilot’s back.

For the next few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your loud, wanton moans and the lewd sounds coming from between your legs. Bradley’s tongue was now prodding against your entrance, teasing you relentlessly. You found it hard to breathe as cry after cry escaped you. Slowly, your high began building. When two of your boyfriend’s thick fingers pushed meticulously inside your weeping cunt, your back arched so hard off the bed, Bradley had to pause to make sure you were okay.

The grin on his face when he heard your needy whines was nothing short of devious. Without hesitation, he returned to sucking on your clit and working his fingers in and out of your slick entrance quickly. “Oh!” You cried out from the delicious

Bradley was relentless. His thick fingers stretched you open deliciously, making a scissoring motion as he licked around your greedy hole. Your moans slowly grew higher and higher in pitch. Outside of your field of vision, Bradley brought his other hand up and between your legs. The sudden press of his thumb against your tight, puckered hole had you nearly screaming. “Oh, my god.” The words were slurred together. That familiar coil in the pit of your stomach was almost ready to snap.

The tip of his thumb suddenly slipped into your tight hole, creating a delicious pressure. More slick leaked from your slit. As Bradley’s fingers kept up their pace inside of your puffy cunt, the squelching sound got louder the wetter you got. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind as Bradley’s thumb pushed further into your ass, his fingers stretched apart even further and his lips sealed around your clit. All at once, he sucked on your clit harshly, pressed his fingers into your sweet spot, and pressed his thumb in as far as possible.

You were so close. In a few seconds, you would be gushing around his fingers. “Bradley,” You panted, fingers gripping his brown locks like a lifeline. “Stop.” He froze instantly, eyes snapping up to meet yours. His fingers slowed until they stopped and his thumb moved to draw back. But when you whined at the sensation in your puckered hole, he stopped his movements altogether.

“Honey?” He started, rubbing your thigh softly and smearing your slick on your smooth skin in the process. “What’s wrong.?” It was whispered into the soft skin of your stomach The tickle of his mustache against your stomach had you giggling. Even though your core was clenching around nothing and you could still feel his finger moving slowly inside your ass. Regardless of the worry bubbling in his chest, Bradley smiled at the sound of your laughter.

You offered him a blissed-out smile, moaning softly at the movements of his thumb. “Nothin’,” At those words, Bradley slipped his fingers back inside of your dripping cunt. You were so wet that there was zero friction as he pushed them in until the second knuckle. You were instantly whiny again. “Wait,” You tried again. This time, Bradley only slowed his ministrations. “I wanna come on your cock.” The widest grin you had ever seen broke out on your boyfriend's face.

Teasingly, he leaned down and allowed his tongue to flick over your clit. A chuckle escaped him. You had no idea what you were in for. “Honey,” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. “You’re gonna need at least two before I even think about letting you cum on my cock.” His words caused you to let out a shuddering breath. Sure, you knew that he was big. After all, you couldn’t go anywhere without someone reminding you of that fact. But his words caused you to wonder just how big he was.

Before you could snark back, his thumb pushed in as far as it could and his lips sealed around your clit. Crying out again, your heels dug further into Bradley’s back and you pulled so hard on his curly locks you thought that some of the hair would come out. Instead, he groaned and began slurping harder. Within seconds, you were gushing around his fingers, cuming so hard you could have sworn you saw stars.

As you were coming down, Bradley drew his thumb from your ass and pulled his sticky fingers from your core. Your cum slowly dripped down your opening. Once you were coherent again, your eyes slowly looked down at Bradley. He was transfixed on the sight between your thighs. The tip of his index finger slowly began to swirl through the creamy mess between your thighs. It dipped shallowly into your opening and scooped out some more of your cum.

The overstimulation was almost becoming too much for you. Now, Bradley’s finger was swirling your cum around your sensitive clit. Your whines were breathly, so much so that Bradley could hardly hear them. Nevertheless, he continued, drawing moan after moan from your parted and chapped lips.

Within minutes, you were right on the brink again. Feeling that delicious pressure building faster than ever, you shifted your hips until Bradley’s face was, quite literally, buried in your slick cunt. As you tipped over the edge for the second time in a matter of minutes, Bradley stared at your expression in awe.

Your legs were shaking. So much so that Bradley was almost convinced he went too far. But when your eyes fluttered open, Bradley could see the pure pleasure swimming in your eyes. “How was that, Honey?” There was a low timbre to his voice as the coarse hairs of his mustache rubbed against your smooth thighs. Your breathing was heavy and your fingers couldn’t stop twitching, but you had never felt better. So that was exactly what you told him.

“That was amazing,” You sat up, half expecting Bradley to push you back down and pull another orgasm from you. Crawling up your body, one of your boyfriend’s large hands rubbed at your side before grabbing your tit. A soft moan escaped you before you grinned up at the pilot. “But, I think you know that I want something else.” Your words were punctuated with a soft squeeze of his rock-hard cock.

The groan that he released was nearly primal. With one last passionate kiss pressed to your lips, he slowly, almost teasingly, unbuttoned his jeans. Then, he peeled his black boxers off his toned and muscular thighs. Your eyes were fixed between his legs, not blinking as you came face to face with his sheer size. “B-Bradley,” You stuttered, beginning to shake slightly. Snapping your eyes up to meet his, your boyfriend had a smug grin on his face. “There’s no way that that’s going to fit.”

The chuckle that escaped him was nearly mocking. “Yes, it will.” Those were the last words he spoke before he was leaning over you again. His hard cock rubbed into your thigh while he was sucking dark marks that contrasted against your unblemished skin into the side of your neck.

After a few minutes of nothing more than kissing softly, Bradley finally pulled back. His hands were warm as they rubbed softly over your sides, an attempt to soothe you that didn't go unnoticed. “Are you ready, baby?” Regardless of the fact that you couldn’t tame the nerves fluttering in your stomach, you nodded. With a smile, he kissed your forehead. Against your skin, he whispered that he was going to get a condom and the lube.

You stopped him. For the first time tonight, you felt one hundred percent prepared for what was about to happen. “No,” Bradley looked at you confused, wondering why you had changed your mind. Kneeling next to him, you placed one hand on his bare chest, stroking the tanned skin softly. Seductively, you whispered in his ear. “No condom. I wanna feel you.” You were on the pill, and you knew that both Bradley and yourself were clean.

His breathing seemed to stop and then there was a wide smile on his face. You squealed when he kissed you passionately, laying you down on the bed and leaving you breathless as he disappeared in search of lube. The sight of his bare backside walking away had you giggling dreamily. When he returned from the bathroom, you were met with the sight of his shockingly large cock between his legs. At that sight, you didn’t laugh as much.

For the next few seconds, you and Bradley were quiet. Soft touches were shared between the two of you before your boyfriend pulled back once more. His fingers dipped between your legs, checking to see just how wet you were. A soft moan escaped you as he swirled your slick around your clit. The next thing you knew, you could hear the cap of the lube snapping open. Suddenly, you felt the cold drop running down your slit. A hiss escaped you before Bradley slipped his fingers into you once more.

The next few minutes were spent with Bradley opening you up even further than you already were. You could feel that familiar pressure building once more. But, instead of Bradley leading you over that delicious edge, he stopped right as you were about to tip over. You groaned.

With a chuckle, Bradley slowly crawled up your body. “You ready, baby?” You could only nod, wanting nothing more than for Bradley to be seated inside of you. As he poured some more lube onto his hand, you got a sinister idea. The thought had you smirking. However, you were stopped in your tracks as you watched Bradley wrap his hand around his thick cock. His fingers couldn’t even touch.

For the first time tonight, you found yourself focusing on his cock. It was long, longer than you had seen before and curved toward the end. His tip was an angry red colour and as he stroked himself, you could see the pre-cum leaking down his shaft. Your eyes traced the vein that ran up the bottom before your eyes snapped up to your boyfriend’s. He had caught you red-handed.

Now, you decided to act on your plan. Before Bradley could realize what was happening, you had flipped him over and were straddling his thick thighs. He looked up at you in shock. With one hand, you gripped his cock and with the other you stabilized yourself against his chest. Biting your lip, your eyes locked with his as you began to stroke him. After a few seconds of building up your courage, you slowly sank down on him. Your warm and slick cunt sunk down onto his fat, mushroom tip with hardly any resistance.

Within the first few seconds, you were a moaning mess. There was less than two inches inside of you and you were already losing your mind. You couldn’t even begin to fathom taking the rest of him. Bradley could sense that you were struggling, so, your boyfriend’s hands gripped your hips. Slowly, he helped you sink down onto him. The breath rushed from your lungs in a matter of seconds. Now, you were just over halfway down Bradley’s cock and you felt like you were being split in half.

“That’s it, Princess,” He encouraged you as your greedy cunt swallowed another inch of him. “Doing so good.” With careful movements, he pulled you down until your head was resting on his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat under your ear. Ever so slowly, Bradley pulled down your hips until they were flush with his. The second he was fully seated inside of you, you let out the most pornographic moan Bradley had ever heard.

One of his hands grabbed your ass and the other cradled the back of your head. The next few minutes were spent with Bradley simply letting you adjust to his size. His sheer girth had you whining quietly against his skin, sticky with sweat. After about four minutes, Bradley planted his feet and shifted slightly. That caused the tip of his cock to press right against your sweet spot. Once again, you couldn’t help but moan loudly.

Ever so slowly, your boyfriend began rocking into you. With each thrust, Bradley would only pull himself out a little bit, leaving the rest of his pulsing cock stuffed inside of you. Then he would push back in, filling you to the brim once more. The feeling of his mushroom tip hitting your spot over and over again had you seeing stars. “Say my name.” It was more of a command than a request.

“Fuck, Bradley!” You cried out, hips beginning to raise and fall of their own accord. He grunted hips smacking into yours as he fucked you.

You grunted, feet planted firmly against the bed as he pistoned his weeping cock into you. “No,” He taunted, slowing his thrusts until he was hardly moving. “Not that one.” The realization of what he wanted you to do was almost enough to make you cum.

“Oh my god,” You rushed out, fist forming as you curled into his chest further. “Rooster!” It was almost a scream. The way the words rushed out of you so fast, Bradley was almost concerned. Almost. “Rooster, please. Please fuck me.” At that, Bradley moaned. He had never heard such a sweet sound as you begging for him to fuck you. It was music to his ears.

Loud moans and grunts filled the room as Bradley began to thrust harder and deeper. Now you were clinging to him, puffy cunt stretched out more than you ever would have thought possible. Your boyfriend gripped your hips harshly, raising you up on his thick cock before slamming you down onto him. That sent a sharp cry out of you, your face turning until it was buried against his chest.

Suddenly, your whole body tensed. Bradley, once again, had slipped his thumb into your tight ring of muscle. The moan that you let out was nearly a scream. Feeling his thick cock in your dripping core and his thumb pushing into your ass sent you reeling. “Imagine what my cock would feel like in this tight, little ass of yours.” He punctuated his words with a hard thrust. His thumb slipped out of your ass seconds later. The fucked-out look on your face wasn’t going away anytime soon.

This pattern continued for the next few minutes until Bradley's thrusts began growing erratic. You were so, so close. All you needed was a little bit more and you would be falling into blissful pleasure. Bradley gave you that little bit more in mere seconds.

His thumb pressed hard against your clit, rubbing the small pearl in circular motions. You found yourself clenching around him with your eyes rolling back. There was an obscene amount of your sweet release leaking out around your boyfriend’s thick cock. He held you carefully as you slowly came down from your high.

Before you had time to recover, however, your boyfriend was pumping his cum into you, thick, white ropes painting your walls. You shuddered at the foreign feeling. Regardless of the other guys you had been with before, you had never let any of them do what you and Bradley just did. His cock was still throbbing inside you. The feeling almost had you cumming again.

Ever so slowly, Bradley lifted you off his softening cock. It had you whining and whimpering. You clenched around nothing, his cum starting to leak out of you. It dripped onto his lap as he pulled your hips up. You were breathless as he set your hips down on his thigh, your cunt clenching desperately at the pressure suddenly placed on your clit. His arms wound around your stomach, holding you tightly against his sweaty chest.

In less than five minutes, you were drifting off against his chest, feeling his warm cum still dripping out of your puffy and abused cunt. Needless to say, the next day, you were walking with a limp.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open :)

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[topguncortez]

For Her Hand - Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey

opposites attract masterlist || main masterlist

synopsis: Jake has always been cool and collected under pressure, but setting across the table from one of the Navy's most infamous legends to ask for his daughter's hand in marriage?? Well, that's enough to make anyone crack under pressure

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none? cursing, mentions of death, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of religion

Jake was sweating. 

He probably had sweat stains on the underarms of his dress shirt, and he was now worried that he was going to have to use the bathroom before James got here. Tonight was the night that Jake was going to ask for Y/N’s hand in marriage. . . even though he already proposed. 

Jake knew he was doing it all backwards. He had already gotten an ear full from his mother when they called her several months ago to tell her the news of Y/N’s pregnancy. Jake never wanted it to be like this, no, he was raised to be a true gentleman. He was supposed to court the girl for a couple of months, and then ask her father and the church for their blessing to get engaged, then there would be a big party on his family’s ranch to celebrate the engagement and then there would be a huge wedding ceremony that was more about showing off to his parents’ friends than about him and Y/N. 

But there was something about Y/N, that made Jake throw all expectations out the window. From the moment Jake saw her from across the Hard Deck, he knew he was going to spend the rest of his life with her. That moment he stepped off the carrier and went straight to her house to find her covered in dirt, he knew that she was going to be the mother of his children. That he would come home to her every single time. Every night he dreamt of the life they would have together, the names of their children, what they would look like, the big house he would build her, and the garden that she would spend hours out in. 

Jake hadn’t always had a good reputation when it came to women, and it was pretty well known. Throughout the academy and flight school, it wasn’t uncommon to see Jake leave with a new woman. There was a part of him who had spent years searching for the person to fill the void in his heart that had been festering from years of striving for his father’s attention and love. And Y/N was the person who filled it in a very healthy way. 

When James first heard about Jake’s and Y/N’s relationship, he was not thrilled. He had seen flyboys like Jake before. He knew what they got up to on postings and detachments, and didn’t want his daughter to join the club of broken hearts. He had also seen and heard the broken cries of their partners when an officer walked off the ship and handed them a neatly folded flag. James felt ill every time he thought about his daughter being in that position. 

But then he saw how they interacted with each other at the Naval ball, and Vice Admiral James “Hercules” Parker was proven wrong. He could see the love that Jake had for his daughter. And even though nothing was promised in their line of work, James knew he couldn’t stand in the way of true love. 

Jake wiped his hands on his pants for what seemed like the thousandth time that hour as he looked around the restaurant for James. He felt like dinner was a more professional way to ask to marry his daughter than doing it over drinks at the Hard Deck or a round of golf, or blurting out in the middle of a meeting (like Coyote had done with Warlock). What made his nerves stay somewhat at bay was that Jake was kind of doing this all backward. He had already proposed to Y/N when he came home from his last deployment and she had said yes. Blame it on the heat of the moment and being a hair's breadth away from death, but Jake couldn’t wait any longer without making her his forever. And she was already pregnant with his child, and James and Clara had already accepted him into their family. 

“Jacob,” James said as he walked to the table. Jake stood up and greeted James with a handshake, “Missing Thursday night football for this.” 

“I’m sorry sir,” Jake said and took another drink of his water. James eyed him suspiciously, seeing the young man's hands shake, as a waiter walked to the table. 

“Anything to drink for you two, tonight?” The waiter asked. 

“Top-shelf whiskey,” James nodded, “Make that two, neat.” 

“Oh, I’m good with water,” Jake said. The waiter nodded and went to go get their drinks, “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.” 

“I can see that,” James said, “Didn’t think that the ‘Hangman’ could get nervous,” Jake cringed at the way James said his call sign as if it were some sort of dig. Some sort of pass to let Jake know that he wasn’t good enough for his daughter, “What’s on your mind son? How’s Y/N and the baby?” 

“Good, they’re both good. She’s pissed, uh,” Jake cleared his throat, “Sorry, upset, that Clara won’t let her dig the flower beds.” 

“It’s not good for pregnant women to be digging in soil,” James responded, his voice void of emotion and staring Jake down like he was an idiot. 

“Right, yes! I knew that from the parenting books,” Jake nodded, remembering one of the only facts he had retained from those books, “Anyway, I uh,” Jake scratched the back of his neck, trying to gather his thoughts, “I love you, daughter,” James nodded, “A-and I did this whole thing backward and I apologize for it. My dad drilled into my head that you always ask for permission first before you do anything with another man’s daughter-” 

“Or get her pregnant.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry for that too. But sir-” 

“James,” 

Jake nodded, “James, I don’t ever want to see a day where your daughter is not by my side. When I thought I wasn’t going to make it back to her. . . well, it was the worst thing ever. I had to make a promise to her when I got back on solid ground, and I did. And now, I gotta make it right. If you would please grant me the blessing, I would love to marry your daughter.”  

James looked at him for a moment, the silence becoming so thick between the two men. Jake felt a cold sweat go down his spine, but then he saw a smile break out across James’ face, “I knew this would come sooner or later. I was hoping for later, but,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black ring box, “She used to wear this around the house as a little girl. It was my mother’s.” 

James placed the box on the table and Jake gingerly picked it up. Inside sat a beautiful diamond attached to a silver band. The diamond had to be nearly three carats and had smaller diamonds around it. Jake looked up at James, tears brimming his eyes. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask-” 

James shook his head, cutting Jake off, “I did the same thing nearly thirty years ago,” James chuckled, “I lost my wingman and almost burned in myself. The moment I got home to Clara, I told her that I could not go back up into the sky without knowing I was going to have her forever. Then she dragged me to the courthouse that same day,” James shook his head with a smile, “I knew this moment was coming at some point in time, when 'dad' stopped being the only man in her life. The only man she looks at with those eyes. No dad is ever ready for that day, and one day, hopefully, you'll have the same experience."

Jake could only imagine the day he would have a little girl and hoped she’d look like Y/N. He could see it now, a beautiful daughter that had her mother’s beautiful eyes and smile, and her personality. If she was born with Jake’s. . . lord help them all, she was going to be a firecracker. 

“Does this mean that I. . .” 

“You have my blessing to marry my daughter.” 

— — — 

After dinner was over, Jake probably broke every traffic law to get home to Y/N. He smiled as he noticed the lights in the backyard were on and the sound of her giggle was in the air. He could hear the small barks of the German shepherd puppy he had gotten her as a companion for when he’s gone on deployments. Jake grabbed the bouquet of pink carnations and basically skipped to the backyard. 

“Bring it back, Steve!” Y/N called as the puppy hustled his way back to his owner, “Good boy!” Steve’s attention turned the second that the gate to the backyard was opened. Even for a puppy, his barks were still loud, startling Y/N. She turned around, seeing Jake standing there with a goofy grin on his face. 

“What are you-” 

“Marry me,” Jake said, cutting her off. 

Y/N giggled, “Sweetheart, I already said yes. Did you hit your-” 

“Nope,” Jake shook his head and walked over to where she was kneeling on the ground. Steve growled a bit as Jake got close to his mother, “Hey, I was the one who adopted you and let you chew on the seatbelts in my truck.” Steve gave Jake a look, before trotting off into the backyard, “Animals.” 

“Be nice,” Y/N playfully scolded, and sat down in the grass. Her hand rested on her growing bump, which had popped a few days ago, and had become Jake’s latest obsession to touch, “How did dinner go?” 

“Went great,” Jake said, sitting down next to her and pulling her into his lap. He rested his large hand on top of her’s, “He gave me his blessing and gave me this,” Jake pulled out the ring from his pocket. 

Y/N gasped, “My nana’s ring! Oh my god, I thought I lost that!” 

“Your dad kept it and gave it to me,” Jake said. He grabbed Y/N’s hand and took off the fifteen-dollar ring he bought at Target that was slowly starting to turn green, “Now, we can make it official,” Y/N turned her head to look at him, “What do you say, Mrs. Seresin?” 

Y/N smiled and turned in his lap so she was straddling him, “I think you should’ve told him I’m already Mrs. Seresin, but. . .” She tilted her head back and forth, “Baby steps.” 

“Yeah, yeah, baby steps,” Jake smirked as he wrapped his arms around her waist and flipped them over. Y/N’s giggles filled the air as Jake pressed kisses all over her face. Her ring glittered in the moonlight.

note: happy Valentine's Day or whatever

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[imthebadguyyy]

guilty as sin?

pairing : bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

fandom : top gun

series : the tortured poets department

synopsis : what if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh only in my mind?

warnings : smut

a/n : on a major rooster kick right now so all his fics are coming out first!! happy reading! plus this is my FAVOURITE song on the album.

my boredom's bone deep...

The familiar hum of chatter and clinking glasses filled the Hard Deck as you leaned against the bar, nursing your drink. Your squadron mates were engaged in a spirited game of pool, their laughter and banter echoing through the room. Despite the lively atmosphere, you found yourself detached, your mind wandering to more tantalizing thoughts.

Your gaze drifted to Bradley, who was standing across the room, effortlessly charismatic as always. His aviator sunglasses perched on his nose even indoors, a casual grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He was engrossed in a conversation with Phoenix, but you couldn't tear your eyes away.

You imagined running your hands through his tousled hair, feeling the soft strands slip between your fingers. The way his muscles would flex under your touch, his strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. Your breath hitched at the thought, a flush rising to your cheeks.

Bradley's eyes flickered to you, and for a moment, you wondered if he could read your mind. He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. You quickly averted your gaze, pretending to be interested in your drink, but the image of him lingered in your mind.

The thought of his hands roaming your body sent a shiver down your spine. You imagined the roughness of his calloused palms against your skin, the heat of his breath on your neck. Your heart raced as you pictured the two of you in a secluded corner of the bar, his lips trailing a line of fire down your throat, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

You could almost hear his low, husky voice whispering in your ear, saying things that made your knees weak. The thought of him murmuring your name in that deep, commanding tone sent a thrill through you, making your pulse quicken.

"Hey, you okay?" Phoenix's voice snapped you back to reality. You turned to see her looking at you with a curious expression.

"Yeah, just... lost in thought," you replied, forcing a smile.

Before she could probe further, Bradley approached, his presence commanding your attention. "Need another drink?" he asked, his voice sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You nodded, handing him your empty glass. As he took it from you, his fingers brushed yours, a simple touch that felt electric. "Thanks," you managed to say, your voice sounding a little breathless even to your own ears.

He smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Anytime," he said, his voice low and smooth. He turned to head back to the bar, and you watched him go, unable to stop the explicit thoughts that continued to dance in your mind.

As the night wore on, you couldn't help but steal glances at Bradley, each look intensifying your desire. You wondered if he could feel the same pull, if he was just as affected by the charged atmosphere between you. The thought that he might be daydreaming about you in the same way sent a rush of heat through your body.

The Hard Deck was buzzing with energy, but all you could think about was Bradley and the way he made you feel. You knew that tonight, your dreams would be filled with him, and you couldn't wait for the day those fantasies might become reality.

what if he's written mine on my upper thigh only in my mind?

The hum of the aircraft engines had long since faded, replaced by the soft rustling of sheets and the gentle sound of your breathing. You lay in your bunk, exhausted from a day of flying, quickly slipping into a deep sleep.

The world around you was soft and warm, the room dimly lit by the golden glow of a bedside lamp. You found yourself in a spacious bed, surrounded by soft, crisp sheets that smelled faintly of Bradley's cologne. The room was quiet, save for the sound of your quiet laughter and the low, melodious chuckles coming from Bradley beside you.

He was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, gazing at you with those mesmerizing eyes. His hair was tousled, his face relaxed, and a mischievous smile played on his lips. You felt a flutter of excitement in your chest, a thrill of anticipation as he leaned in closer.

His lips brushed against yours, soft and warm, sending sparks of electricity through your body. You giggled against his mouth, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, more intense, until you were both breathless and laughing.

Bradley's hand trailed down your side, his touch gentle and teasing. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that made your heart race. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice low and possessive, sending a shiver down your spine.

You felt his fingers on your skin, tracing delicate patterns on your upper thigh. Slowly, deliberately, he spelled out the word "mine" with his fingertip, the sensation making your skin tingle and your breath hitch. Each letter was a promise, a declaration that made your heart swell with desire and longing.

You laughed softly, the sound filled with happiness and contentment. Bradley's eyes sparkled with amusement and something deeper, something that made you feel cherished and adored. He leaned in again, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a kiss that made you feel like you were the center of his universe.

His hands slowly moved lower, spreading your thighs apart, lips slowly trailing down your body in a heated trail, kissing your chest, your tummy, your belly button, one hand wrapping softly around your throat, all the way to your hips...

Just as the he was reaching the juncture between your thighs, you jolted awake. The abruptness of reality hit you like a cold splash of water. Your heart was pounding, your skin flushed and warm. The darkness of your bunk contrasted sharply with the golden glow of the dream, the laughter and intimacy replaced by the quiet hum of the sleeping quarters.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. The dream had felt so real, so vivid, that you could almost still feel Bradley's touch on your thigh, his lips on yours. The memory of his whispered words echoed in your mind, making your skin tingle with the aftershocks of the dream.

You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling, your mind replaying every moment of the dream. The feelings it had stirred within you were undeniable, and you knew that the next time you saw Bradley, it would be impossible to look at him without remembering the way his touch had made you feel.

With a sigh, you closed your eyes, hoping that sleep would take you back to that dream, back to Bradley's arms, back to the warmth and laughter that had felt so right.

messy top lip kiss, how I long for our trysts...

The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the beach as you and the rest of the squad gathered for a spirited game of volleyball. The laughter and competitive banter filled the air, mingling with the sound of crashing waves and the calls of seagulls. Maverick was in top form, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the game, while everyone else was enjoying the carefree atmosphere.

Bradley stood out among the group, his shirt discarded, revealing a toned, sun-kissed torso that glistened with sweat. He moved with a grace and power that drew your eyes to him, unable to look away. His aviator sunglasses reflected the bright sunlight, giving him an air of effortless coolness.

As the game progressed, you found it harder and harder to focus on the ball. You had opted to just lay on the same after playing for a while, settling on the blue blanket phoenix had got for you, sipping on a glass of fresh watermelon juice, lounging with Omaha on the beach. Instead, your eyes followed Bradley, admiring the way his muscles flexed with each movement, the way he ran across the sand with such confidence and ease. Every time he jumped to spike the ball, you felt a flutter in your chest, your breath catching in your throat.

His abs glistened with sweat as he chest bumped Payback, muscles rippling in his back like waves, denim shorts slung low on his hips, so tight fitting they looked like they were painted onto his legs.

At one point, Bradley looked your way and flashed you a brilliant smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Your jaw dropped slightly, mesmerized by the sight. His tanned skin, the way the sun highlighted every defined line of his body, left you feeling flustered and warm.

Bob sidled up to you, noticing your slack-jawed stare. "Cherry, stop drooling over him. You'll catch flies in your mouth," he teased, a playful smirk on his face.

You snapped your mouth shut, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I wasn't—" you started to protest, but Bob's knowing look silenced you. He chuckled and jogged back to his position, leaving you to your thoughts.

Your mind wandered, slipping into a daydream where the volleyball game faded away, and it was just you and Bradley on the beach. The sound of the waves became a soothing backdrop as he walked toward you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

He reached out, his hand warm as it cupped your cheek. "I've been waiting for this," he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise. You felt a shiver of anticipation run through you as he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate.

It was a messy top lip kiss, the kind that left you breathless and craving more. His lips were soft and demanding, moving against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak. You felt his hand slide to the small of your back, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss until you were lost in the sensation of him.

The kiss led to more, each touch and caress igniting a fire within you. You imagined the two of you tangled in each other's arms, exploring and discovering every inch of skin. His fingers tracing patterns along your spine, his lips traveling from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses.

It left you flushed and yearning, the volleyball game and your surroundings forgotten. All you could think about was Bradley, and the way he made you feel with just a look, a touch, a kiss.

A sudden cheer from your teammates brought you back to reality, and you realized you had missed the last few plays of the game. Bradley was laughing with Maverick, his eyes bright with triumph. He glanced your way again, catching your gaze, and for a moment, it felt like he could see the daydreams playing out in your mind.

He licked his pink lips, thumb running over his moustache. You clenched your thighs, instantly thinking about how good it would feel, his face nestled between your legs, lips trailing kisses all over your throbbing core...

You quickly looked away, hoping your flushed cheeks didn't give you away. But even as the game continued, your thoughts kept drifting back to those imagined moments with Bradley, the feel of his lips on yours, the warmth of his touch, and the undeniable connection that left you longing for more.

these fatal fantasies, giving way to laboured breath.. 

All you could think about was his warm wet tongue sliding up your folds and then his long fingers curling inside you. You imagined his lips on your clit, sucking so harshly it made filthy noises. Your heart was racing as your slid your finger up your folds and began rubbing your clit as your other hand and cupped your breasts, and then pinching and twisting your hard nipples.

Quickly, you slide your finger into your dripping hole and then adding in another one to feel full. You pictured Bradley's cock ramming in and out of you so rough and so fast. You imagined his warm cum filling up your walls. 

Your fingers sped up against your clit, moaning as the image of Bradley licking your pussy flooded your vision. "Fuck! Rooster!" You groaned, hips rising and falling as you chased your high.

"Oh fuck! Shit!" You moaned, hips arching high as you rubbed the sensitive nub faster, head slamming back against your pillow, hips stuttering as your orgasm hit you like a freight train.

Your chest heaved, thighs glistening and breath coming laboured as you panted, eyes shut as you inhaled deep breaths of air.

"Fuck me..." You muttered as you slowly sat up. Looking at the time, you cursed when you realised you had to meet the other at the hard deck in half an hour.

someone told me, theres no such thing as bad thoughts ..

How could you face Bradley now, knowing the explicit fantasies that had consumed your mind? Shaking off the feeling, you decided to head to the Hard Deck, hoping the lively atmosphere would distract you and help you regain your composure.

The bar was already bustling with your squadron mates when you arrived. Maverick, Phoenix, Bob, and Bradley were gathered around, engaged in animated conversations and laughter. You could see Hangman, Coyote, Payback and Fanboy playing a game of cards again. You approached the group, trying to appear casual, but you felt as guilty as sin, unable to meet Bradley's eyes.

You slid onto a stool at the bar, your gaze fixed on your drink. Phoenix noticed your uncharacteristic quietness and sidled up to you, concern etched on her face. "Hey, you okay?" she asked, her voice low enough that only you could hear.

You forced a smile, nodding slightly. "Yeah, just tired."

Phoenix studied you for a moment before a knowing look crossed her face. She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's perfectly fine to have feelings, you know. There's no such thing as bad thoughts"

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down, embarrassed at how transparent you seemed. Phoenix gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Seriously, just talk to him."

You glanced up, following Phoenix's gaze to where Bradley stood, laughing with Maverick. He looked over, his eyes locking onto yours, a hint of concern in his expression. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly looked away, the intensity of your earlier fantasies making it hard to think straight.

"Go on," Phoenix encouraged softly. "He cares about you. Just talk to him."

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. You knew she was right. Avoiding Bradley wouldn't solve anything, and the guilt and embarrassment would only fester if you didn't confront your feelings.

Mustering your courage, you stood up and made your way over to Bradley. He turned to you, his smile softening as you approached. "Hey," he said, his voice warm and inviting.

"Hey," you replied, trying to steady your racing heart. "Can we talk for a minute?"

Bradley's expression grew serious, and he nodded, leading you to a quieter corner of the bar. "What's on your mind?" he asked, his concern evident.

You hesitated, the words tangled in your throat. But the supportive look in his eyes gave you the strength to continue. "I... I've been thinking a lot about you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "And it's been driving me a little crazy."

Bradley's eyebrows raised in surprise, but a slow smile spread across his face. "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "I've been thinking about you, too."

The weight of your earlier guilt began to lift, replaced by a sense of relief and excitement. "Really?" you asked, unable to hide the hopeful note in your voice.

"Really," he confirmed, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "How about we get out of here and talk somewhere quieter?"

You nodded, your heart soaring as you followed him out of the bar. As you walked side by side, the tension and uncertainty melted away, replaced by the thrill of new possibilities and the promise of something real and meaningful.

my bedsheets are ablaze, I've screamed his name...

"rooster!fuck!” You screamed out, your toes curling beneath you as bradley continued to flick his tongue over your folds at a ridiculously fast pace.

The room was hot, both your bodies sweating in a tangled mess. Bradley pressed your body firmly down, whilst he kept your legs around his head - trapping him to the spot he desired so much. He kept your hips pressed down with one arm and the other was being used to pump his fingers, unforgivingly, into you. You weren’t able to focus on anything apart from the endless, relentless pleasure he was giving you.

Your fingers tugged against the soft waves of his hair, which made him moan and send vibrations all over your pussy and through your heat. The sounds that filled the room were unholy and wet and downright filthy.

His tongue persistently lapped at your folds, using his fingers to reach the spots inside of you that had you seeing heaven on earth. His tongue felt so good and his fingers even better.

But goddamn that moustache.

All you could feel was the tickle of prickly hair rubbing against your oh so sensitive clit, stroking  it as he moved his face. His movements were so wild and quick that each time he moved let you feel his moustache. Each time he moved a different direction your pussy caught against the hairs and dragged against your skin, causing you to moan out in pleasure. Bradley knew exactly what he was doing. He was filthy and you absolutely loved it.

His fingers pumped harder, curling to reach your favourite and most sensitive spots and his tongue moved faster as you began to reach your high. It didn’t take much for him, with the moustache, to bring you to your release and rooster definitely got off on that. He loved when his moustache got coated in your juices and he could taste it hours later, where he hadn’t quite cleaned himself properly. It was tormenting in a way though, because one taste of you had him on his knees begging for more - he wouldn’t even care if you were beyond spent.

He pulled away to look up at you with endless adoration, and you felt his hot breath fan against your even hotter pussy. . He looked so lustful, eyes blown wide and dark. He was a different man right now - one on a mission to make you scream his name. 

He kept straight eye contact with you as his moustache glistened with a coating of your juices, his eyes remained locked to yours as he ran his tongue over his lips and upper moustache hairs, tasting you without being face deep in you. You groaned at the sight, before deciding you wanted in on the action too.

Leaning up and forwards you smashed your lips on to his, moaning as you tasted  yourself on his lips.  It was divine.  His bristly hairs tickled your upper lips and you hummed at the sensual sensation. He pulled away when he realised you were enjoying this too much, not wanting to distract himself, or you, from giving you the release you so deserved.

"You can kiss me senseless after i’ve devoured you, baby.” He kissed your lips once more and then pushed you back down and reattached himself to your soaking pussy. You cried out at the contact, not believing you ever thought you’d be able to go without the feeling. Nothing would ever compare to this. To him.

“Roo!" You moaned his name in pleasure and returned your hands to his hair, pushing him further into you.

His tongue moved inside of your folds in angles you never knew existed, making your toes curl and your tummy flutter with excitement. You felt your release so close. His fingers entered - one, two, three - and found the right pace to have you completely defenceless below him. You were his to toy and play with, that much Bradley knew. Like this, you were a bowl of jello in his arms, allowing him to tease and pleasure you how he’d like to - with the trust that you’d stop him if he went too far.

“You gonna come for me baby angel?” He rhetorically asked, knowing you were only a few more pumps away from your release.

“Yes, yes just for you.” You gasped as he quickened the pace of his fingers and designated his attention to your pulsing clit.

“Come on then. I won’t tell you twice.” The way the hairs of his moustache moved from his words against yourclit sent you over the edge.

The fucking moustache.

You arched your back and screamed out as he kept pumping his fingers through your release. You grasped onto your breast, needing something to release your frustration into. God you felt unholy and dirty. You felt fucking amazing. Your breathing was laboured and Bradley spent the rest of your high lapping your folds and around your cunt, drinking up every last drop of your release. He couldn’t get enough of you. He would never.

“Can you kiss me now?” You quietly asked and you felt his presence suddenly hover above you, his moustache absolutely covered with your juices. He wore them with pride. He raised his eyebrows at you, hovering just above your lips. “Please?” You stressed and who was he to deny that pouting face of yours. Who was he to deny you his moustache?

I choose you and me, religiously...

The restaurant was bathed in soft, ambient light, creating an atmosphere of elegance and romance. The clink of fine china and the murmur of quiet conversation provided a soothing backdrop as you sat across from Bradley at a candlelit table. The upscale, intimate setting was perfect, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement and anticipation.

You were wearing a silky satin red dress that clung to your curves and shimmered in the candlelight. Bradley looked dashing in his tailored suit, his eyes never leaving you as he smiled warmly across the table. The evening had been a whirlwind of the finest food and wine, each course more exquisite than the last.

As the waiter poured another glass of rich, velvety wine, Bradley reached across the table, taking your hand in his. His touch was warm and reassuring, sending a thrill through you.

"You look stunning tonight," he said softly, his voice filled with admiration. "I can't take my eyes off you."

You blushed, the heat rising to your cheeks as you smiled at him. "Thank you. You look pretty amazing yourself."

The dinner continued with laughter and light conversation, but you could sense that Bradley had something on his mind. As the dessert was served—an indulgent chocolate fondant that melted in your mouth—he took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with a seriousness that made your heart skip a beat.

"I've been thinking a lot about us," he began, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. "About how much you've come to mean to me."

Your heart raced, and you held your breath, waiting for him to continue.

"I never expected to fall this hard, this fast," he admitted, his voice filled with raw emotion. "But here I am, completely and utterly in love with you."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you listened, your heart swelling with happiness.

"I choose you and me religiously," he said, his voice unwavering. "Every day, in every way, I choose us. Because with you, I've found something real, something worth holding on to."

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and Bradley reached out, gently wiping it away with his thumb. His eyes were filled with love and sincerity, and you knew that this moment, this man, was everything you had ever dreamed of.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I love you so much."

Bradley stood up, moving around the table to kneel beside you. He took both your hands in his, looking up at you with a smile that made your heart melt. "Then let's make a promise," he said, his voice steady and sure. "To always choose each other, no matter what."

You nodded, unable to find the words as your emotions overwhelmed you. He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. It was a kiss that spoke of promises and a future filled with love.

As you pulled away, you looked into his eyes, seeing the same love and commitment reflected back at you. "I promise," you said softly, your voice filled with conviction.

Bradley smiled, his eyes shining with happiness. "Then let's toast to us," he said, raising his glass. "To love, to promises, and to choosing each other, always."

You clinked your glass against his, the sound a beautiful reminder of the bond you shared. As you sipped your wine, you felt a sense of peace and contentment settle over you. With Bradley by your side, you knew that you had found your perfect match, and you were ready to face whatever the future held, together.

what if i roll the stone away?

The squad had gathered at the hangar for a relaxed evening, the familiar scent of jet fuel and the hum of aircraft providing a comforting backdrop. Hangman, Bob, Coyote, Phoenix, Payback, and Fanboy were all there, sharing stories and laughter after a long day of training. You and Bradley were part of the group, but your mind was elsewhere, consumed by the secret you were carrying.

You and Bradley had been secretly dating for a while now. The relationship was a source of joy and excitement, but the thought of revealing it to the squad filled you with nervous anticipation. You worried about how it might change the dynamics within your tight-knit group. Yet, tonight felt different. A sense of determination had been building within you, and you knew it was time to share your happiness with your friends.

As the evening progressed, you laughed and chatted with the others, but your mind kept drifting to Bradley. He caught your eye several times, his reassuring smile giving you the strength you needed. You knew he was ready to support you, no matter what.

Finally, you decided it was time. You excused yourself, mentioning you needed to check something by your jet. The squad continued their conversation, but Bradley's eyes followed you, filled with a mix of curiosity and encouragement.

You walked towards the edge of the hangar, the cool night air calming your nerves. Before you disappeared, you turned back to face the group. Bradley stood up, sensing that something significant was about to happen.

With your heart pounding, you walked back to him, your determination solidifying with each step. The squad’s chatter quieted as they noticed your serious expression. You stopped in front of Bradley, taking a deep breath. Without a word, you leaned in and kissed him, a tender yet passionate kiss that conveyed all the love and connection you felt.

When you pulled back, you were met with a chorus of surprised exclamations.

"Whaaas?" Hangman exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.

"No way!" Fanboy said, a grin spreading across his face.

"Well, I'll be damned," Coyote muttered, shaking his head with a smile.

Phoenix looked at you, her eyes wide with surprise but quickly turning into a warm, approving smile. Bob's mouth hung open, but he quickly composed himself, giving you a thumbs-up.

Payback just laughed, slapping Bradley on the back. "About time!"

Feeling a rush of relief and exhilaration, you looked around at your friends, their reactions a mixture of shock, amusement, and support. Bradley wrapped an arm around your shoulders, his smile beaming with pride.

"I guess the cat's out of the bag," he said, his voice filled with affection.

Phoenix stepped forward, giving you a hug. "I’m happy for you guys. Seriously, it’s about time you both found some happiness."

Hangman chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, this explains a lot. Congrats, you two."

As the initial surprise faded, the group quickly accepted the new dynamic. The conversation shifted to teasing and light-hearted jokes, but there was an undercurrent of genuine happiness and support for you and Bradley.

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, the anxiety of keeping your relationship a secret melting away. With Bradley by your side and the unwavering support of your friends, you knew that everything would be okay.

Later, as you headed to check on your jet one last time, you glanced back at Bradley, who was watching you with a proud, loving expression. You blew him a kiss, feeling lighter and happier than you had in a long time.

a/n : i adored writing this!! i hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!! as always, comments likes reblogs feedback etc is always appreciated 🤍

TAGS

the tortured poets department: @ateezseonghwanot @khaylin27 @imgondeletedis @jj-ever-lovely-jewel @stylestastic

general : @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird-blog

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM 🤍

[ailoda]

ᯓ ✈︎ favourite writers

@sometimesanalice

@honkytonk-hangman

@tip-top-cloud-surfer

@roosterbruiser

@tropes-and-tales

@dearsnow

ᯓ ✈︎ favourite fics

Leave A Light On - @sometimesanalice

When Bradley had given you a key to his place, what he probably didn’t expect was to find you there at 2 am sitting at the piano you’d helped him find.

I read this relatively recently and it's become one of my favourite fics ever. Choosing only one from @sometimesanalice is difficult, but I just cannot not include this. Disregarding the fact that the plot in and of itself is a warm hug in written form, the build-up is so subtle but so well-crafted; it takes you on a journey that doesn't feel out of place or takes away from the main storyline. I find fluff to be a bit more straightforward to write and read as it's typically relatively easy to instil fluffy, lovey feelings, but the feelings @sometimesanalice instilled through this is unmatched—it goes beyond fluffy feelings in a way that is so difficult to describe and is just so beautifully written that it's difficult to put into words. Ever read something and been so close to crying because it's written in a way that makes you feel how loved the main characters are and you want to experience that yourself but you don't think that that level of love and devotion exists? Tada! I would have to say that this is definitely a top fic overall across all the fandoms I read. The literature community best be pleased that this writer is not a published author, because they'd be taking ALL the money.

Truly, Madly, Deeply - @tongue-like-a-razor

Bradley Bradshaw is madly in love with a married woman.

This was one of the first fics I thought of when compiling my Top Gun favourites, and definitely is amongst my top 5 fics throughout all fandoms. It's so wonderfully written in that the plot gives absolutely nothing away until the end. Bradley's characterisation, and how it bounces off the reader's, is done so well and makes him so endearing; he's charming and flirty without coming across too forced or rehearsed—which is difficult to write. Similarly, Lena has a knack that's perfectly illustrated here of being able to build romantic tension through subtle moments. The banter between them both feels so natural and engaging, and contributes to the sense of intimacy that pushes the plot forward. It's such as fun and fluffy read that I fell in love immediately, and I continue to re-read just to nail the point home that I'm incredibly lonely :)

It's That Simple - @tropes-and-tales

Praise Kink.

Where to start with this gem. This fic overall manages to brilliantly balance emotional depth with humour, with the lighthearted tone and comedic moments helping to keep the fic feeling fun without undermining the serious feelings involved—a testament to the excellent writing and curated narrative flow. Another thing that is done so well is portraying the complexities of relationships, capturing both the mundane and extraordinary aspects of intimacy. I also really enjoyed the portrayal of male insecurity when it comes to intimacy too—something I rarely come across. Everything about this fic, from the humour to the complexities of insecurity and how it feeds into intimacy, is done so tastefully and portrayed in such a heartwarming way that I remember reading this for the first time and feeling empty after finishing, wishing there was more.

12:29AM - @dearsnow

Your normally sober husband comes home drunk out of his mind after a party, and you can’t say that he’s any less sweet.

I'm pretty sure this was my first foray into Bob Floyd fics, and I can't say I regret it. This is the perfect blend of fluff and humour that just leaves you feeling all warm and giggly and fuzzy. One key bit I love is Bob's characterisation; the perfect balance of fluff, love, and humour that perfectly captures his character so well. The contrast between the Bob we see - composed, responsible—and his drunken, unfiltered self is hilariously endearing. A definite favourite Bob Floyd fic and one I always come back to when I want a fic that will just wrap me in a warm hug and tell me it's all okay.

When Jake Met Polly - @honkytonk-hangman

 Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller.

When compiling this list, I knew that @honkytonk-hangman needed to be included, but boy was it difficult to choose only ONE fic. I think I'm happy with my decision. I absolutely adore the seamless back-and-forth between the reader and Jake, and really adds to the chemistry. But while the overall plot is light-hearted and comedic, you can definitely feel a subtle emotional undercurrent where the romance develops slowly but steadily. The slow build of playfulness that then leads into genuine moments of connection makes the romantic moments feel earned, and it doesn't feel rushed or forced. Their ability to write in a way that builds undeniable chemistry while interweaving moments of vulnerability is just *chef's kiss*.

My Darlin’ - @mydarlingrose

When the daggers are spontaneously relocated in Texas in for a mission and have no where to stay, Jake lets them stay at his place and discover Jake has been keeping a secret from them for a very long time.

This is the fic that started my secret-wife and jake-is-a-girl-dad shtick that has prevailed to this day. It's a great blend of heart-melting fluff and humour. I love how you can still see the bits of Hangman that we see in the movie, and the banter between the Daggers, while also tapping into a different side. They both don't feel mutually exclusive and instead compliment one another. Definitely one to starve off my lack of affection :)

[rebelliousstories]

Milk and Cookies

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1,000

Main Masterlist: Here

Top Gun: Maverick Masterlist: Here

Summary: Watching the nieces and nephews, Hangman feels a weird feeling making the cookies for Santa.

Consider Donating: Here

Coming home to Texas was one of Jake’s favorite things about Christmas. Getting granted leave from the Navy and flying home, he loved it. His other favorite thing the past two years has been bringing his girlfriend with him.

She got along great with his folks, and they loved her as much as she loved them. The traditions in the Seresin home were cherished very deeply. Everyone gathering around, sharing stories, what has happened to them through the years, catching up, food, and games were constant the weeks of Christmas and New Year’s Eve.

It also helped that everyone gathered at the Seresin farm for the festivities, leaving plenty of room for everyone to spread out and not be right on top of each other. However, Jake had elected to wrangle the kids in the cookie making area so as to give his siblings a break, and a chance to relax with other adults. Thankfully, his girlfriend had decided to join him, enjoying time with the little children as much as her boyfriend.

Jake loved hanging out with his nieces and nephews. He loved doing anything with them from the mundane to special trips. And he especially loved being able to decorate cookies with them. His youngest niece, a beautiful girl of only eighteen months named Ava, sat in his lap as he sat in the chair. She was playing with some frosting on the table while his girlfriend guided his older nephews, Luke and Jessie, in how to create cool splashes of color on the plain cookies.

“Uncle Jake?” Luke had come over and abandoned his cookies in the process.

“What’s up bud?” Hangman ruffled his shaggy blonde hair. The little eight year old boy looked so much like a Seresin. His sister’s genes really pulled through on this kid.

“Can you make a cookie with us, please?”

“Sure. Gotta bring some cookies over. Need to keep a hand on little miss here.” Bouncing his knee that held the child, Jake smiled as he heard her begin to laugh the longer he did this.

Briefly, he looked up and locked eyes with his girlfriend who was smiling at the interaction. There was some twinkle in her eyes that he could not quite pinpoint just yet, but he was drawn back to the children as Luke transferred some materials over to the other side of the table. Helping his nephew try and make plane themed cookies, Jake felt his heart swell as Luke put his helmet design on a plain circle, complete with his call sign.

Ava was taken out of his arms by his girlfriend who shot him a smile. Sitting down with the little girl, she kept her entertained much like Jake had done; special frosting that was placed on the wax paper covering the table. Thankfully, the adults had the foresight to know that kids decorating cookies would be a messy ordeal. Jessie was still over on the opposite side of the table from Jake as he quietly made his cookies. The boy was a bit shy and not as out going as his cousin Luke.

On an off glance towards his girlfriend, Jake felt something tear through his chest. His mind crafted an entire dream around that simple view. Instead of his niece and nephew, Seresin saw his own kids, with a little touch of him and a little touch of her in them, around their mother as they made cookies for Santa. He had talked with her about marriage and children before, but Jake still had yet to find the proper time to ask her the question.

But this made him really give it some thought again. This was a life he could live. He continued to help his nephew, sneaking glances towards his girlfriend who helped the other children stay on task and entertained.

Eventually, Jake’s siblings and the parents of the children, came to collect them to go get ready for bed. Leaving the two adults to pack away the cookies and supplies in the mean time. Once they were all done, Jake snagged a few cookies to put on a plate, as well as a couple glasses of milk. He set them on the coffee table, before grabbing his girlfriend to sit down on the couch.

She squeaked as she felt the arms of her partner wrap around her, to drag her down onto his lap on the couch. Laughing softly, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, just happy to send some alone time with him finally. It had been a crazy day with all the Seresin’s that could under one roof. Hangman reached for the plate that was on the table, and set it in her lap.

No one said anything for a while. The happy couple just ate their cookies and drank their milk basking in each other’s presence. That is until Jake bumped his nose into her cheek to grab her full attention.

“Ever think about kids, doll?” Finishing up the cookie in her mouth, she took a swig of milk to wash it down. All the while sending a confused look towards her boyfriend.

“Um, sure. We’ve talked about this before. Why do you ask?” But Jake just pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Nothing. Just was thinking. Like, what you wanna do with them around Christmas time? Your own little traditions.” Moving the plate and glasses away, she shifted her body to face her lover more. Wrapping both arms around his neck, she was delighted to feel Jake’s arms securely around her waist and thighs.

“You getting baby fever already, Seresin,” she teased, one of her hands moving through his cropped hair.

“Maybe a little,” he replied, thumb stroking her jeans covered thigh.

Again, no one said anything for a moment. She relaxed entirely and nuzzled her face into his neck. They did not need any words for that moment; all they needed was themselves, and a little tray of cookies along with some milk.

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 19 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Bob is away, Anna can feel his absence everywhere. But nothing beats a perfect reunion. 

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, mentions of smut, 18+

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Months later....

Sitting in the coffee shop alone after visiting so many times with Bob truly made Anna sad. She was so used to sipping her coffee while he drank his hot tea, and somehow the scent always clung to his hair for hours afterwards. She'd bury her nose against him when they got home, and he would laugh when she told him he always smelled good.

But now he was gone, and she couldn't do anything about it. She accidentally burned her mouth on her coffee, and after that it tasted disgusting. She got herself a croissant, but they were better when shared. Tears stung her eyes, and she had to take a deep breath and convince herself that it would be over soon. Then she focused her attention on her computer as she worked through some more of the changes she wanted to make to her manuscript.

After three more paragraphs, it was no use. It wasn't even ten o'clock in the morning yet, but she gave up and switched to the notes app on her phone where she had been adding ideas for Jessica's bridal shower and bachelorette party. Physics jokes about the laws of attraction? Designer lingerie shop in LA? Can you make a math equation that looks like a penis?

She would defer to Advanced Calculus for that last item. With a sigh, she was about to close her computer, buy another croissant for Suzanne, and then head out when she saw a new email notification.

"No way," she gasped as she tapped on it and stared at her computer screen.

Sky Writing has posted a new, original work! Click the link below to check out the subscriber that you follow!

Anna's heart started pounding erratically, and her fingertips felt numb. Anticipation and confusion mingled together as she opened the link. It was difficult to read as she tried to take a deep breath, but she wanted to consume Bob's words as quickly as possible.

I can see the dusky outline on the horizon,

But the California coastline isn't enough.

I need to be at home.

I need my bookshelf.

I need my books.

I need your books.

I need my Anna.

I need to see you in the next two minutes,

Because twelve weeks is way too long.

"The next two minutes?" Anna mumbled to herself as she read the last lines over again. "Two minutes?" She was out of her seat immediately, neck craning around the crowded coffee shop, looking in every direction. And that's when she saw him stroll inside in his khaki uniform and silver glasses with the most handsome smile on his face.

"Bob!" she cried out, nearly tripping over her chair as she left her stuff behind to get to him as quickly as she could. He was home. He was home early from his deployment. Communication had been a little spotty, and there was so much she wanted to tell him, but he was finally home.

"Anna," he murmured as she threw herself at him, knocking the wind out of her own lungs. His arms were wrapped around her as soon as her lips met his, and she didn't care if there was a whole shop of people watching them. He was finally home. Somehow he still tasted like tea, and he smelled so good, she buried her nose against his neck as he chuckled.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked, kissing him just above his shirt collar.

"Jess told me," he replied easily.

She kissed her way up to his ear as he started to slowly walk her backwards to the small table where she'd been sitting. "Why didn't you call me? I could have picked you up. I missed you so much."

"I just wanted to surprise you," he whispered, claiming her lips again as they stood next to the table.

She looked up at his pretty eyes and said, "This is a wonderful surprise. And I have one of my own."

"What is it?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing the freckles along her cheek and chin as she grinned up at him.

"I'm divorced."

His eyes went wide, and a sound of pure excitement escaped him as he scooped her up into his arms. "You're divorced?"

Anna laughed as she told him, "Finalized ten days ago. Fuck Kevin."

"You drove my truck here? Let's go," Bob said, immediately carrying her toward the exit.

"Wait, I need my stuff!"

"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly very flustered as he helped her shove her computer and phone into her bag.

"I was planning to get a croissant or something to take to Suzanne," she said as he practically dragged her outside and down the street to his truck.

"Well, I was planning on taking you back to the bookstore to pick out something we could read together tonight, but this is even more important."

Anna ended up with her back pressed against the side of the truck while he unlocked the door, and she pressed her lips to his Adam's apple while she tried to hold onto her bag. She wanted to taste him everywhere. "Going right home actually sounds like a pretty good idea."

"That's exactly where we're going," he promised, tossing her stuff onto the seat before helping her in as well. The six seconds when he was walking around the truck and she couldn't touch him were miserable, but soon enough, he was kissing her while he started the engine. Then she had her fingers wrapped up with his while he started to drive. "I love you, Anna." He kept his eyes on the road as he made his way through Coronado, and she felt warmer than she had in twelve weeks. "I love you, and I would never pressure you to do anything you didn't want to do."

She turned to look at his handsome profile. "I know you wouldn't. That's why I love you so much."

She watched as he swallowed hard before saying, "I know we talked about our future, but it was always kind of ambiguous while we waited for your divorce decree."

"It's not ambiguous anymore!" Anna cheered as they neared his house where she had been living for months. "I'm ready for the future. The future is here. The future is now."

She was all smiles as he parked the truck with an anxious look in his eyes. "You told me you wanted me forever," he whispered, and Anna couldn't figure out why he looked so nervous. 

"Of course I want you forever," she told him once again. She'd made it as clear as she could that she was done running. Kevin and New Jersey and everything that could have broken her but didn't were all left in the past. She was moving on a little bit more every day with Bob and her best friends and her tenure track teaching position at San Diego State. She was unashamedly taking excellent care of herself, and she never stopped Bob when he told her she needed to take a break and that he'd handle something for her. She wasn't going anywhere ever again.

"I want you forever, too. And we can go slow, or we can go fast. Or you can tell me you don't want what I have to give you, and that's okay too."

"What?" she asked, her heart sinking in her chest as he parked and climbed out. She wanted everything Bob had to give, and she wanted to give him everything, too. They even talked about getting married someday after he initially got over his nerves enough to bring up the topic. She had assured him that he was exactly the only person she would do that with after her disastrous first marriage. Why would he think she didn't want what he had to give?

"Bob?" she asked as she climbed out as well and met him on the sidewalk. "Why do you look so concerned?" He didn't respond. He only led her up to the porch and unlocked the door. "Bob!" she complained when he scooped her up and carried her up the stairs, going two at a time until his breath was coming in shorter gasps. Instead of turning toward their bedroom like she expected, he went into the guest room and dropped her onto the futon.

She rarely came in here. It was almost funny that Bob planned on sleeping in this room when he insisted Anna come home with him after Kevin figured out where she lived. And now he was on his hands and knees, crawling under the futon as she asked, "What in the world are you doing?"

He hit his head and grunted in response, but a second later, he emerged with his hair all messed up and something in his hand. "I got you a ring."

"A ring?" she asked, realizing he was holding a small box. A jewelry box. She looked at him where he was kneeling in front of her, cheeks turning pink. "What kind of ring?" she whispered, hopeful yet needing to be sure.

Bob snapped the box open, and all Anna could see was a beautiful diamond. "An engagement ring. But only if you want it. I know you probably need more time. I don't even need an answer right now, I promise," he told her earnestly as she scooted a little closer to him. "You were still married two weeks ago, but I wanted to give it to you now anyway. You can wear it or not wear it. We can wait a while if you want. I just... wanted you to know it's all yours. I'm all yours."

She hadn't worn the rings from Kevin in over a year and a half. She pawned them with no remorse before she left for California. "It has been a very long time since I was really married, Bob." She took the box from his hand and looked at the ring. She couldn't stop smiling, and the tears in her eyes made the diamond look all blurry as she asked, "Do you really want to marry me? I'm a mess."

He grinned at her. "You're really not, Baby. You're smart and beautiful and funny and kind. You're a fighter. Of course I want to marry you."

Without another word, Anna took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. She'd known Bob long enough to be sure that his words were honest. She was willing to throw it all in on Sky Writing. "We can take our time," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him. "There's no need to rush. But I definitely want to wear this ring."

They made a long, luxurious stop in their bed where Anna almost lost her voice from the number of times she called out Bob's name, and then he made her lunch before the two of them made their way to the living room bookshelf. 

"We didn't make it to the bookstore to pick out anything new to read," she mused, brushing all of the colorful spines with her fingers.

"Maybe we could read the first book you ever recommended for me. Together this time," he replied, his hands settling on her hips as his chin rested on her shoulder. 

Anna smiled as she reached for A Room With a View, remembering so well the day she started to fall in love with Bob Floyd. The book still looked practically brand new even though he'd already read it, and she grinned as she said, "I can't wait to dog ear all your pages."

"I will gladly let you."

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

The End! Thank you for reading another adventure in the Sugarverse! I hope you learned that even when you're a mess and barely holding it together, you're still worthy of friendship and love. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[mlqueen89]

One | Flyboy 

so cross your thoughtless heart  she's the albatross  she is here to destroy you 

The Albatross by Taylor Swift | TTPD |     

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x f!oc (top gun: maverick) 

rating: 18+ (minors dni) 

w a r n i n gs : smut, mentions of masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, multiple orgasms, one-night stand, jake being a cocky, self-assured man who leaves no crumbs after he eats. 

word count: 8,997

summary: in affairs of the heart, eleanor rigby has one strict rule: no pilots. Less than 24 hours back in the US, she breaks it. 

A/N: this whole entire fic literally started with the (full) name of eleanor. i also have a radar tech in the family, so that helped a bit. snowball met a steep hill and picked up speed. i've planned for ~10(ish) chapters, but it may be open ended with a few more random scenes/chapters here and there.  

proud to say that this one was beta read by my bestest friend, so you know she was mean to me helpful. 

also! i saw the asks - super excited to dive into those, tysm. ♡♡

❥ playlist ♡ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ next chapter ❥

Eleanor Rigby hadn’t wanted to go to the Halloween party, not really.    

The boxes stacked in the spare bedroom of her friend Nicole’s four-bedroom house desperately needed unpacking and the 10-hour time change from Western Turkey to San Diego was kicking her ass. She’d done about as much unpacking as was required to find a suitable outfit for her new job in the morning, folded them carefully and set them out.   

When Nicole had invited her out, Ellie had fallen asleep, mid-unpack of the rest of her belongings, waking only when the bubbly blonde burst into the room and jumped onto the foot of her bed, dressed in all her glory as Barbie.   

“Ellie does San Diego! Let’s goooo.” Nicole tugged at Ellie’s arm as Yanique flicked on the light in the ensuite, reapplying a purple-ish shade of lipstick as Ellie blinked against the sudden light in her dim room, her arm jiggled aggressively by an enthusiastic Nic.   

Bleary-eyed, her voice just a croak, Ellie politely declined, muttering something about starting her new job early the next morning and making a good impression. Nicole eventually relented with a huff and left, a little less than impressed, with their other two roommates, Yan and Sophie, in tow.   

Within 45 minutes, her phone buzzing against the hardtop of the nightstand, the voice messages started flowing in.   

Nicole’s first voice message was short, 12 seconds. Ellie’s thumb jabbed at the play button as she gathered the dishes from her girl dinner of toast and coffee and used her elbow to push down on the paddle door handle, making her way to the shared kitchen.   

Ellieeeeeeee... Eleanor Rigbyyyyyy ....   

There was a dull thud of base in the background somewhere, behind the long, pronounced whine of Nicole’s voice as she sang the beginning of her namesake Beatles song, horribly off-key.   

Ellie, please you have to come out. It’s Halloween, the most magical night of the year! Just make an appearance. An hour, tops. Please?   

Ellie moved through the kitchen, rinsing out her cup and placing it on the drying rack. Her head was in the fridge, scrounging around for an apple in the crisper drawer, when the next three messages came in.   

Please, pretty, pretty, pretty, please with like, a million cherries on top, even though I know you hate cherries.    

Bradley’s not here yet, Yan already left with a weird guy in a Frankenstein costume—do we know what kink that is? That has to be a kink, right? I’m not kink shaming though, I promise. He was just like... weird. Do you think I should get her to drop her location? Like, just in case?   

Soph is requesting Chappell Roan for the like, twentieth time, and I think she’s going to start a fight with the DJ about being an anti-feminist incel if he doesn’t play “HOT TO GO!” again... did you know that she broke up with that witch, wiccan girl from Hinge? HingeWitch? The one that had that study of cheeses in her bio, that blue cheese description—Ellie thought she heard Nicole pause to gag—anyway, I think she thinks she got cursed or something...    

The voice message cut off even though Nicole’s tone suggested that she wasn’t finished talking about Sophie’s ex.   

There was a garbled message in between the last one and the next, one in which Ellie could hear Nicole begging the DJ not to leave and promising to talk to her friend about the excessive requests for Chappell Roan.   

Don’t abandon me in my time of need, El. Desperate need. Like, jumping off of very tall somethings desperacy.   

Ellie smirked. Nicole, her very best friend in the whole wide world, quite possibly the vast universe, was, in fact, very dramatic.   

Quickly, before another voice message could roll in, Ellie hit record on her own before she bit into her apple, wrestling the third box out of a teetering tower of boxes in the corner of her room and hit send.   

Fine. I’ll be there in twenty.   

The response pinged back quickly.   

Ohmygodohmygod, thank you! Remember, the theme is Icons through the Ages!   

Wear something sexy. Iconic sexy. Iconically sexy? But not Hawaiian Barbie. Or whatever Soph is dressed up as. I want to say is either Frida Kahalo or Mama Imelda from Coco. Basically, avoid anything with a Mexican gothic vibe.

Once Ellie had managed to pull her vintage leather aviator jacket from the box, the one she’d mislabeled in her hurry to pack everything up, the rest of her costume came together fairly quickly.   

When she found the venue, a small bar off a main street, she still had around 30 seconds to spare on her twenty-minute promise to Nic.   

Eleanor had always known that Nicole was popular, but the Halloween party, a party which Nicole had demurely announced was just “a small thing” with “a few work friends” was in actuality, not quite a small thing.  

Weaving her way through the crowd, Ellie scanned the room, trying to pick out the hot pink of Nicole’s costume or the flower crown Sophie had carefully woven into her voluminous red hair.   

Squeezing her way through a group of Spanish Conquistadors (notably with less armour and more exposed skin than was historically accurate) Ellie paused short of the small DJ booth in the corner of the bar, her eyes still scanning for Nicole when her eyes fell on him.  

Sandy blonde hair peeked out from under a neon sweatband, shoulders stocky and solid in a sleeveless denim vest over a t-shirt that read, No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem. The white sneakers, short shorts, and that unmistakable lanky sway to the beat of Footloose pumping through the venue that could only belong to one person.   

It was Ken.  

Specifically, the Ken to Nicole’s Barbie.    

“Bradshaw?” Ellie called, squinting.  

Ken spun around with the beat of the song, a lopsided grin already on his lips as he faced her. “Holy shit, Rigsy?” Swiftly, Bradley Bradshaw was over to her, scooping Ellie off her feet, squeezing her tightly in a bear hug, shaking her frame slightly with a growl, before she groaned and he set her back down, feather light.   

“You didn’t say you were back stateside.”   

“My flight got in last night.” Ellie shrugged, straightening her jacket and adjusting the thin white scarf around her neck, “Just wanted to surprise you, Rooster.”   

“Well, damn it,” Bradley nodded in approval, all dimples and easy charm, “colour me surprised.”  

It was no wonder Nicole had fallen for him, head over Barbie heels. Even Ellie liked him, and that was saying something.   

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was less pilot and more golden retriever, a good heart wrapped in an all-American charm with an easygoing, dopey grin that made people feel like they’d known him for years. He was the kind of guy who’d lend you his jacket and forget to ask for it back or show up at your door with takeout and Sleepless in Seattle cued up on a streaming service he had to pay an arm and a leg for, because he “just had a feeling.” The Batman who responded to the Emotional Needs and Mercury Retrograde Bat Signal™. The hero the people deserved. Ellie was pretty sure she caught him watching videos of a baby hippo getting into shenanigans at a zoo in China on loop for 14 minutes while Nic tried to pick an episode of Keeping Up With the Kardashians that would really pique his interest and get him invested enough to make it his “new Roman Empire”.  

Ellie remembered the night Nicole and Bradley had met with perfect clarity.   

Nicole had been in the middle of swearing off all men for the foreseeable future, her voice thick with the brand of determination that came with a prosecco-fueled resolution. Ellie had watched as her friend declare a new era of singlehood and Taylor Swift before turning to Sophie, slurring out a request for “gorgeous, single women willing to humor an experimental phase.”   

It wasn’t two minutes later that Nicole lurched forward, losing all her resolve—and her prosecco—in a sudden, graceless bout with the sidewalk.  

As Ellie rubbed her back and tried to get her standing, a group of pilots had come down the street—Bradley Bradshaw among them, flanked by two others they’d later get to know as Phoenix and Bob. Bradley had been the one to stop, eyes quickly scanning the situation, assessing and then moving in with expert precision. He’d peeled off his jacket immediately, holding it out to Nicole as she moaned her embarrassment and weakly gestured at the puddle of what had once been bubbly and appetizers a few feet away.  

“It’s okay,” Bradley had told her, voice soft and reassuring. “If you throw up on this one, I’ll just get another jacket tomorrow.” When she’d protested, he’d grinned, shrugging in that effortless way of his. “Honestly, they just give these jackets to anyone,” he’d joked, as if he hadn’t spent years earning the right to wear it and every single patch stitched on it.  

Nicole had blinked up at him, mascara smudged, his jacket draped over her shoulders, looking at him like he was some knight out of one of the many cheesy rom-coms she loved. And for once, Ellie hadn’t blamed her for it.  

That night, Bradley Bradshaw had seen her best friend at her worst and treated her like she was worth sticking around for.  

And that was Rooster in a nutshell—a steady warmth that lingered long after he was gone, the guy who would do just about anything to make Nicole smile, including, but not limited to, dressing up in the ridiculous costume he was currently wearing.  

Nudging her, Rooster grinned. “So,” he drawled, “does this mean I finally get the best friend stamp of approval?”  

Ellie rolled her eyes, feigning a reluctant sigh, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. She didn’t want to tell him that she’d approved of him long before now. “Don’t let it go to your head, Bradshaw.”  

“Too late,” he laughed, mimicking his head expanding dramatically before throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Already there.”  

Rooster grabbed his drink off the small table bordering the dance floor, draining the glass. “Love the costume, by the way," he sucked his teeth against the burn of the whiskey he’d downed, “I’ve not seen one Amelia Earhart here.” He craned his neck, searching in the dimly lit room.  

“You think the goggles are too much?” Ellie adjusted the strap on her head, pushing a loose strand of hair up underneath the band. “I think they might be cutting off circulation to my brain..."  

“An aviator is only as good as their headgear,” Rooster tapped the top of his head. “You’re just missing your call sign.” 

“Guess you must not be a very good one, then.” Ellie smirked, snapping the neon sweatband on his head with a laugh.  

Rooster levelled her with a narrowed gaze, but there was no heat behind it, “one day someone is going to love that you’re kind of mean.”  

“Sorry, Bradshaw—” Ellie pointed at her ears, shrugging as she stepped back, a smirk on her lips, retreating into the crowd “—I can’t hear you.”  

Rooster flipped her off, in an affectionate way, she assumed. “Sit and circumnavigate, Rigby.” 

With another laugh, Ellie turned and set her sights on the bar, squeezing her way through a grouping of zombies and a Michonne, who stood shoulder to shoulder with a Negan, complete with Lucille, tugging her scarf out of Zombie #1s grasp on the other side. 

The last tug, sharp and forceful, sent her stumbling over the tattered chiffon hem of the La Llorona’s dress at her back.  

Ellie braced for the rough landing as she attempted and failed to steady herself. She felt the fall in her stomach, the way it pitched as gravity pulled her down. She figured it served her right, the swift intervention of karma coming for her after she’d insulted its favourite pilot — Rooster was going to have an absolute field day over this. 

Ellie had been so lost in the idea of bracing for the impact of the ground, hard and sticky, she didn’t notice that she hadn’t fallen until she looked up and saw a lopsided smirk and green eyes, looking down at her. The realization there were hands hooked under her arms, holding her up came quickly after. 

“And here I was thinkin’ that Amelia Earhart had a reputation of staying upright.” The man was all smirk, dimples ghosting his cheeks, as Ellie blinked up at him, processing the situation. 

“Guess I’m overdue for a refresher course on emergency landings.” Ellie cleared her throat, righting herself with his help before she tugged her bomber jacket back into place. 

When she glanced up from her improved angle, Ellie could see just how striking he was—sharp jaw, confident eyes, and a natural swagger that suggested he knew it, suggested he knew women sized him up in more ways than one. 

“What are you drinking, Amelia?” 

“Nothing, yet.” 

“Let’s fix that, shall we?”  

The music pumped anew, the DJ spinning a Thriller remix, as she approached the bar, the presence of the man at her back as she weaved her way through the crowd. She could feel the hover of his hand at her lower back, ready to catch her if she took another tumble. She hadn’t been expecting much from the night—just a few drinks, maybe some small talk with Nic, a short discussion with Sophie on Chappell Roan’s representation of duality in the midwestern identity to prove that she’d come out and spent the appropriate amount of time there. But as she took the beer the bartender slid her way and the man leaned against the bar next to her, she couldn’t help but smile. She definitely hadn’t been expecting this. 

“Let me guess,” Ellie’s eyes scanned his costume then, taking a moment to take stock. Carefully, she scanned the skull patch, dagger in its teeth, VFA-151 stitched in below, the chevrons, patches, carefully piecing the images and small details of his costume together before she replied, eyebrow raised, “you’re a pilot—” she paused to sip her drink, her eyes falling on the patch on his bicep, “—Navy.”  

A grin pulled up the corner of his mouth as he gave her a slow once-over, a scan he didn’t bother to hide, before he leaned casually against the bar beside her. “Hangman,” he said with a smirk, and Ellie’s eyes dipped to the patch on his chest, the golden wings stitched above the call sign. “Best pilot you’ll ever meet.” 

She tilted her head, gaze sliding from his call sign back up to his face. “Best pilot, huh?” She gave him a once-over that was part skepticism, part intrigue. “You Navy guys really know how to sell it.” 

Ellie leaned into the bit hard. Tonight, she was Amelia, and he was Hangman, the name stitched into hundreds, if not thousands, of storebought costumes. If she were Navy, she might have been insulted. 

If he heard the skepticism in her tone, he ignored it and chuckled, not breaking eye contact as he matched her smirk. “Only because it’s true. Besides,” he said, letting his voice drop lower, “don’t have to sell anything when you’ve got it all.”  

Ellie raised an eyebrow, meeting his challenge head-on. “Big words for someone who still hasn’t proven a thing.”  

“Oh, don’t worry, darlin’,” he drawled, leaning in just close enough to lower his voice to a rumble, “I’m very good at proving myself.”  

She laughed softly, a glint in her eyes as she set her drink down. “Okay then, why don’t you start with this—” Ellie leaned in, her finger tapped lightly on the golden wings over his heart, her touch lingering. “Explain why they call you Hangman.”  

She waited, waited to see if he’d squirm, held his gaze and paused for the story that was sure to come. Some feeble attempt at role playing for an unpracticed character, just a call sign with no real bite, no real story.  

He smirked, clearly used to that question but still savoring her attention. “I’ll leave that for you to figure out,” he teased, straightening, “after all, you strike me as a curious type. And I’d hate to ruin the mystery.”  

Ellie chuckled, leaning back as she looked him over. That was his game, wasn’t it? A tennis match, a steady volley and lob. Two could play at that game. “Maybe I’ll get bored before I do.” Ellie added a shrug to punctuate her words for effect.  

“Somehow, I don’t think so.” His voice held a hint of challenge, his gaze lingering, his grin lazy but sharp. He straightened up, hand resting on the bar, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him.  

“Guess we’ll see,” she murmured, lifting her drink to her lips, her gaze unwavering as she took another sip. She looked away for just a second, but not before she caught his confident grin widening.  

“Believe me,” he said with that maddening confidence of his as he leaned in, so close that his voice was low, the heat of his words warming the shell of her ear, “I’ve got plenty of ways to keep you entertained.”

Ellie had barely unlocked the front door to Nicole’s place when he was on her, his hands on her hips as he pressed her into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. He kissed her like a man starved, his fingers reaching up to tangle in her hair at the base of her neck, anchoring her to him.  

This was the culmination of the barely veiled innuendos, the heavy-handed flirting that had gone on all evening.  

When he’d slipped out of the bar and onto the street with her, Ellie knew what would happen. He knew what would happen. She could tell in the way his eyes raked over her, all want, pupils blown wide. He wanted her and she wasn’t shy to admit, maybe not out loud, but to herself, that she wanted him too.  

“Maybe we should—” Ellie’s breath was uneven, her mouth missing his the moment they broke apart, just long enough for her to tip her head in the direction of the stairs.  

“Yeah—” his reply was equally breathy, his eyes on her lips even as she spoke, his tongue jutting out to whet his lips. A thrill shot through her, one that dipped low and pulsed between her legs.   

She was wet already, she could feel the slickness of herself, the material of her panties weighted with the evidence. In response, in a swift motion, he picked her up and Ellie instinctively spread her legs so that they framed his waist, her ankles locking at his low back. Ellie didn’t need to be told, she gripped him with her thighs, squeezing tight as he chuckled.   

“Good girl,” he smirked against her mouth before he kissed her again, deeply, his tongue pushing inside to taste hers.  

When they reached the top of the stairs, she broke from him only just long enough to give directions to her room in as few words as humanly possible, reaching out to grip the door frame of her room as he carried her down the hall and almost walked past it.  

Shutting the door behind them with his foot, he wasted no time in pressing her up against the wall. His fingers worried the buttons, slipped each from their place, starting from the bottom up as Ellie took her bomber jacket off, tossing it and the goggles to the floor before she joined him in working on the buttons from top down.  

“So many—” his breath came out with an edge of frustration and Ellie gave up on her buttons to tug the zip of his flight suit down to where her hips met his waist.    

“Just rip it,” Ellie huffed out, voice unsteady as his lips dipped to her neck, teeth grazing the spot where her collarbone met the base of her throat. One less thing between his mouth and her skin warranted the sacrifice of a shirt.  

He didn’t waste time, didn’t question and the sudden coolness on her skin and the sound of the buttons hitting the floor, scattered, had her grinning. She liked a man who followed orders. “You owe me a new shirt, Captain.”  

“Lieutenant,” his voice rumbled into her skin, making quick work of her bra next. By the time it hit the floor to join the other articles of clothing, his hands were on her breasts, teasing her nipples, every pinch and pressure, every touch of his lips, every nip of his teeth sending surges of raw pleasure pulsing down.  

Ellie hated the way he ripped the sounds, raw, unabashed, desperate, from her. Hated how she’d folded under his smooth charm — she could have stopped it, could have said good night and left him at her door. Touched herself, alone, in bed, thinking about the way he’d been so eager to prove he was the best, picture how his touch would have felt, how he would have filled her as she coaxed herself over the edge and leave it at that.  

But she hadn’t, she’d wanted him —she’d own that. She wanted him to fuck her stupid. She could feel him, the hard outline of his cock pressing against her as he held her to him. 

“Easy, darlin’,” he chuckled lowly, rough around the edges as she shifted, reaching to touch him over top the Nomex. “We haven’t even started yet….”  

He was across to her bed in a few easy strides, carefully setting her back so that she sank into the pillows, his hand lingering at her waist as he leaned over her, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. His gaze held hers, steady and unhurried, as he let his fingers trace lightly over the edge of her jaw, his index finger coming to rest under her chin, his thumb smudging her bottom lip.  

As his thumb traced her lip, smudging her lipstick, she caught his hand and pulled his index finger into her mouth, closing her lips around the digit, tongue tracing purposeful patterns as she slowly dragged it out. Her eyes never leaving his as he huffed out a heavy breath, a thrill running through her. 

“You should know that I have a rule, sweetheart.” He murmured, leaning over her so that his arms framed her, so close that his nose brushed hers as he spoke, his voice low, deep, edged by the hard edge of desire. “Ladies first.” 

Her pants were off quickly, leaving her in nothing but a whisp of material separating her from the man who wanted all of her. She heard the jingle of dog tags as he lifted the white shirt that had been under the flight suit over his head and abandoned it. 

Before she could sit up to see him, stripped down to his boxers, he was back on her, lower.  

Softly, he kissed her inner ankle, the next kiss trailing higher, her calf, another on the inside of her knee and the next, on her inner thigh, so close to where she wanted him, she was sure he could feel the heat radiating from her core.  

She was a wreck, a hot, wet wreck and she was barely holding onto the part of her that was ready to beg him to touch her. The part of her that wanted all of him in a way that was driving her mad every moment he wasn’t touching her.  

“What do you want?” His voice was steady, measured as he touched her over her panties, his rough fingers brushing over the dampened spot of the material. The sound that left his lips, a quiet hissing intake of breath, told her he knew what he was doing to her, knew that he had her right where he wanted her.   

In response, Ellie writhed, sensitive to even the smallest brush and despite herself, a small moan left her lips, one she couldn’t have contained even if she had wanted to. What was the question again?  

He moved up from the altar between her legs, nipping a sensitive spot on her side where her ribs ended before he remedied it with a soft kiss, blazing a trail up her body with his mouth. Carefully, holding himself just above her, he bent to tease her nipple with his tongue, whetting the already hard peak, before he closed his lips around one and then moved to the other.  

Ellie was barely holding on, her vision edged with haze as he looked up to finally locked eyes with her. If he kept it up at this rate, he wouldn’t even need to fuck her.  

“What do you want?” His voice was husky, his body propped up over her as Ellie tried to order her thoughts, process them into coherent words. “You going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?”  

She could feel him against her thigh, hard, ready, the thin material of his boxers the only thing between her and all of him. There was some small satisfaction, a thrill that swept through her and coiled low in her stomach, that there was a part of him he was barely controlling a part of him that wanted to be inside of her now. The wet spot of precum on his underwear ghosted against her bare skin and she swore she could feel him twitch.  

Hangman, she’d asked at the bar, explain why they call you Hangman.   

Mystery solved.  

“I want—” she started, barely a whisper as he kissed the corner of her mouth, kissed her jawline, his fingers slipping under the top waistband of her panties as he continued to nip at the most sensitive spots on her neck.  

“You want…?” He prompted, waiting, even as his hand slipped lower, slow, calculated.   

“I want you to—,” Ellie lifted her head and muffled her moan into his shoulder as his fingers found her slick clit, massaging lazy circles, steady, calm, “Mmm.” Her nails bit into the muscles on his back as her head fell to the pillow, arching into his touch.  

“Guess, it is then.” He murmured, that infuriating smirk in his words as he pulled his hand away from her slick, stopping the steady rhythm she’d just gotten used to. She whined after the loss, but he didn’t give her much time to mourn before he was down between her legs again, his fingers dragging her panties off.  

Swiftly, he pulled her to the bottom of the bed, throwing her legs over his shoulders. Ellie gasped, her hips bucking up into his tongue as he swept it up through her folds. Calmly, as she inched closer to unravelling completely, ascending the slope at dizzying speed, he gripped her hips, controlling her movements as she pressed down against his mouth. 

She could feel the pressure building with every expert movement of his tongue over her, through her. Reaching down, she combed her fingers through his hair, gripped into it and tugged him over, directing him to her need.  

“Oh, god….” Ellie whined, the words just barely words as they dissolved into a moan, her free hand gripping the mess of sheets underneath her.  

“Hangman’s fine, gorgeous.” The response was quick, cocky. The response of a man who knew exactly what he was doing to her and taking his time. 

“Wait,” Ellie’s hips chased after his mouth, a groan on her lips as she threw her arm across her eyes. “Don’t stop—.”

He was torturing her now, bringing her just to the edge and then allowing her to come down just enough to bring her back up again. He was fucking good and he knew it. It was going to drive her insane with want. 

“You have to say please, sweetheart,” he murmured, the heat of his breath on her inner thigh almost too much, carefully, he touched her with his thumb, a light pressure as he teased her. Ellie could hear the smirk in his words.  

Words. What were words? Ellie's mind was short-circuiting. Short-circuited, past tense. Already gone. Wires crossed— leads jammed in the wrong place, signals crossed.     

She hadn’t wanted to fall apart under his touch so easily, she'd wanted to seem like she wasn’t desperate for him, but his touch was a warm fire on a cold night.    

“Ple—fuck,” Ellie moaned, her words dragged out, long and torturous as she felt his thick fingers slip inside her, slow and deliberate.     

She didn’t even know his real name, wasn’t even sure if she could manage to say it even if she did. He was undoing her carefully, piece by piece, sensation by sensation, she was malleable under his touch.    

“What was that darlin’?”    

Ellie might have been embarrassed at the squelch of her wetness as his fingers stroked in and out, excruciatingly measured, but she couldn't think about anything. Just the way he filled her while still leaving her wanting more, more, more.    

“Please—” her nerves crackled like livewires as she moaned, her hips moving against his fingers with each stroke, her movements almost involuntary, the wild need in her chasing the high, just out of reach.     

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” his voice was husky, lower now. He gripped her hip, holding her, steadying her rhythm before he added another thick finger, three deep in her now, his thumb moving in circles around her swollen clit.    

“Jesus,” he breathed, taking a moment before his mouth dipped to her hot center, alternating between sucking and the slow caressing tip of his tongue, creating just the right amount of excruciatingly perfect sensation, his fingers stroking and curling inside her. “You're so tight, sweetheart. Might not—” 

He might not fit. She finished his words in her mind, a secondary thought, one that made her mad with want. 

She breathed through the sensations, jolted and writhed as his pumping digits searched for the spot that made her see stars. She felt drunk, high, soaring, just on the edge of release, her muscles aching to reach the peak before she tumbled over, completely undone.    

When she finally broke, her back arching off the mattress, her hips grinding harder into his hand, she moaned into her forearm to muffle the sound. 

That air of self–assured cockiness he carried himself with at the bar, the swagger. It was all well–earned, she was coming to realize. Pun intended. 

“You know what they call a pilot with at least five confirmed air-to-air kills?” His voice was low as he drew his fingers from her, slipping his arm behind her still arched back as he leaned over her, his heavy cock pressing up against her throbbing pussy through his boxers, hard, ready.  

She was hyper aware that she still wanted him, inside her, filling her, spreading her to her limit in a unique mix of pleasure and pain. 

“Hmm—Ace?” Ellie’s mind was still hazy, vignetted around the edges as her heart hammered against her ribs. 

It happened in a moment, a quick change of position, as he lifted and turned, positioning himself under her so she straddled him. Smooth and calculated, precise and fast, an expert maneuver.  

Ellie could feel her bare wetness against him, her hands bracing on his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath her touch. In the dim light of the room, she could see the glint of his dog tags hanging off to the side, a small detail of his costume she wished she might have looked at before, in the bar.  

“Ace.” He smirked up at her before he shifted her hips up and he pulled her down over his face. 

Ellie gripped the steering wheel tightly, the worn pleather creaking under her hands as she leaned forward and angled the rearview mirror sharply so she could get a better look.   

“Fuck,” Ellie hissed, her fingers hovering just over the purple mark on her neck, just above her collarbone. How she hadn’t noticed it in the mirror this morning, she wasn’t quite sure.  

“Seriously? A fucking hickey?” She was already digging around in her purse as she huffed, her fingers blindly searching for the concealer she knew wouldn’t be there because she could see it in her mind’s eye, sitting on the edge of the porcelain countertop in her ensuite bathroom. “Are we fourteen?”  

This was definitely topping her list of things she didn’t need her first day on a new job site, especially not Miramar.  

When Ellie had woken up that morning, the sun barely peeking through the half-shut blinds, she wasn’t surprised that she was alone in bed. There was no note, no forgotten sock, no evidence, save for the dull ache between her legs and a tender, purple love bite on the inside of her right thigh as evidence that last night had even happened.  

That was what one-night stands were though, right? One night.  

Even under the hot stream of water from the shower in the ensuite though, Ellie closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift back, only shaking herself from the thought of him when the alarm from her phone buzzed it right off the counter.   

Groaning, Ellie blew out a noisy breath, abandoning the purse search when she found nothing other than a stray mint.  

Guess today was going to be a hair down kind of day.  

It wasn't the look she normally felt comfortable with on military bases with all the formality of rank and protocol, but she was a civilian contractor, it was unlikely anyone would notice. Hair down was better than the talk that might follow her around if anyone saw the mark on her neck.  

Sighing, Ellie pulled the pins out of the bun she’d spent her morning perfecting and allowed her hair, dark, still damp and wavy from the shower, to fall around her shoulders. Carefully, she pulled the tresses forward, over the rouged mark on her skin, peeking just out from under the collar of her white blouse.  

It wasn’t the best, but it would have to do in a pinch. She made a quick mental note to head off base on break to stop at a CVS to grab some concealer before she twisted the rearview mirror back into place.  

Tony Cudmore, the Crew Staffing Supervisor she had been coordinating with solely through email before now, was already waiting for her just outside the gates, his eyes on his wristwatch as Ellie approached. “Rigby, glad to have you on board. Heard we snagged you from your work on base in Turkey.”  

“Yeah, well. When Uncle Sam comes knocking, right?” Ellie snagged a tress of her hair as it lifted from her shoulder in the wind, carefully patting it back into place.  

“Don’t I know it,” Tony chuckled, his white, push broom straight moustache blustering as he waved at the officer stationed in the booth by the gate before he scanned his security pass. “How’s your old man?”  

“Ah, you know the type, Tony.” 

Ellie had perfected the art of sidestepping questions about her dad and Tony didn’t push further, seemingly content with the non-answer. 

As they reached the security clearance office, Tony slid a few documents under the glass and Ellie stepped up in front of a camera, the flash going off quickly before she had a chance to adjust.  

Whoever thought DMV photos were bad had clearly never had their photo taken by a Naval Officer a few months away from retirement.  

“Given name?” The man behind the glass murmured, so low that Ellie had to strain and lean toward the hole at the bottom of the glass to hear him.  

“Eleanor.” 

“We have a lot of work here that could really benefit from your expertise. The boys are flying Super Hornets nowadays, so the tech is good, but the improvements from your research could really give ‛em the edge.” Tony continued at her side, distractedly flipping through emails on his phone as he waited, “Now of course, those Super Hornets are far and away from the Tomcats your dad would have been flying in his heyday here, let me tell you….”  

“Surname?”  

“Neven - but you can just put Rigby.” It was Ellie’s turn to murmur now, edging closer to the slot in the glass, her voice just loud enough to be heard over Tony’s absent chatter behind her.  

The Security Officer paused, fanning out Ellie’s passport and glancing up at her for a moment, eyebrow raised before he punched something into the computer. She offered him a tight smile a beat too late.  

When the man slid her the newly printed security pass, Ellie’s eyes scanned for any sign of the hickey and was thankful that, though her hair looked like a bird's nest and her eyes were half-closed in mid-blink, at least the hickey wasn’t memorialized in her security pass.  

As they stepped out of the security office, Tony untucked a manila folio from under his arm and passed it to Ellie as they walked. “I’ll take you around. Give you your bearings. You’ll be working with the tower crew lots. Some good people up there.”  

They were out of the outbuilding now, Ellie’s heels clicking across the tarmac, past the line of F18s lined up on the hardtop and gleaming in the early morning California sun.  

“The ground crew might ask for some help with the planes, so you’ll be in the hangars. I’ll take you for a quick flyby,” Tony chuckled to himself, pleased with the pun, “we’ll pick up the tour after since the meeting with Admiral Simpson and Rear Admiral Stark is at 0900 sharp and those suits don’t mess around.”   

Tony’s strides were long, and it took Ellie a moment to jog after him, catching up just in time for him to open the door for her.    

“If you’re not five minutes early—” Ellie started, half playing into the old Navy saying she had grown up hearing as she slipped into the hangar.  

The nostalgic scent of jet fuel and oil hit Ellie hard in the closed space — it didn’t seem to matter how long she did this, how long she worked around planes and crews, in different countries, different airfields, this part never changed. Part of that was comforting in an odd way. It felt like home to her. 

Tony snapped his fingers in response, the sound of agreement. Tony opened his mouth to speak when a loud peel of laughter echoed in the closed space. Tony glanced at his watch, confused for a moment before his face turned toward Ellie, excited. “Oh, well, will you look at that, lucky you, we’ve got some of our Flyboys here. Must have some free time before drills.”    

Ellie followed a few steps behind Tony as he rounded the front of a line of Super Hornets, a spring in his step. As they approached, she took in the group of aviators in their flight suits from a distance, casually talking and laughing — and then her stomach twisted, her gait faltering for a moment. 

There, leaning against one of the jets, was the last person she expected to see again, let alone here: Hangman.

He looked almost exactly as he had last night, though somehow the daylight amplified everything about him— his height, the confident set of his shoulders. He turned, mid-laugh and Ellie watched as his eyes caught on her, like he recognized her for a fraction of a second before the look was gone just as quickly. 

Hangman’s easy smile shifted when he saw her, an eyebrow shooting up, surprise flashing across his face before his expression settled into something like amusement.

The last time she’d seen that look, she’d been over top of him, hovering, before he pulled her down over his mouth greedily, his tongue painting pictures over her most sensitive nerve endings as she moaned. She was pretty sure she’d broken one of her fingernails as she gripped the headboard, biting into her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood, his other hand reaching up to cup her breast roughly.  

Yet here he was now, in the light of day, truly in his element, looking like he belonged here as much as the jets around him. 

Ellie felt her heart kick up a notch, a reaction she’d hoped she’d managed to stow away. She forced herself to play it cool, lifting her chin slightly as they neared the group. She didn’t have a choice – there was no running from this. The consequences of her own actions coming back around to haunt her. 

“Hangman, Payback, Harvard,” Tony greeted, nodding to him and the other pilots. “Good to see you guys. Just giving our new radar tech a tour.” 

Ellie felt her pulse quicken as his gaze slid back to her. He wasn’t going to say anything, right? They were strangers here, well, coworkers now. She wasn’t Amelia Earhart, and he wasn’t the pilot from the party, except, he very clearly was and Ellie had miscalculated, mis-stepped. A TOPGUN pilot no less. 

As she held his gaze, she could see the recognition flickering behind his eyes. He knew exactly who she was, but his mask didn’t slip, not for a second. 

“This is—”  

“Rigby. Eleanor.” Ellie interrupted Tony sharply. The introduction as herself, not as Amelia, would be on her own terms. At least she could control that. Here, at Miramar, she was Eleanor Rigby. 

“Welcome to the team, Rigby,” he said smoothly, holding out a hand as if they hadn’t already met in the most intimate of ways. The way he said her name sounded off, like he was testing it out in the context of their previous… encounter. 

Ellie held her breath, pausing only a moment before she forced herself to shake his hand. “Thanks,” she replied coolly, her voice even, though she was silently praying for the ground to swallow her whole. She refused to let him get the upper hand. Not here, not in front of people she had to work with.  

His grip was firm, his eyes amused. Ellie caught the brief flicker of his gaze to her neck, his eyes resting where Ellie knew she’d tried to hide the hickey, admiring his work, likely.    

Tony chuckled, oblivious to the tension. “Lieutenant Seresin’s one of the best we’ve got. You’ll probably end up working on his bird now and then.”  

Ellie forced a smile, though she could feel the bottom of her stomach drop out and she cleared her throat in an attempt to press down the nervous, incredulous laugh that threatened to escape her. Technically, she’d worked on it last night, right?   

“Looking forward to it,” she said instead, even though the last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near him right now.  

He released her hand, stepping back into the group of pilots. “Catch you around, Rigby” he said casually, before turning back to his crew, who began to stalk off, out of the large open hangar doors, not looking back.  

“Anyway, you’ll be working here between—” Tony continued, oblivious. 

Ellie let out a breath as Tony waved at her to follow him, continuing the tour. She kept her eyes forward, focusing on Tony’s voice, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of Hangman’s eyes on her or the memory of last night still lingering between them. This complicated things. This really complicated things. 

At least he’d set a standard: he didn’t know her and Ellie was only happy to play along with that pretense. She didn’t know him either. At least, that’s the story she was sticking to. 

The fluorescent lights in the conference room felt harsher than usual, and Ellie shifted uncomfortably as Admiral Simpson and Rear Admiral Ingrid Stark watched her closely, their expressions unreadable.  

Standing before two of the Navy’s highest-ranking officers, Ellie tried to steady her breath, tried to ignore the slow trickle of panic coursing through her. The same panic that churned the small bit of breakfast she’d managed to eat while maneuvering in and out of San Diego traffic all the way to North Island.  

All she had to do was focus, recenter her mind on the presentation. The presentation that culminated the last three years of her career, it was important, she knew – it had been the sole focus of her work in Turkey and yet, here she was, hiding that stupid hickey and thinking about the man who made it. Thinking about how he looked at her in the hangar not but twenty minutes ago, a glance exchanged that held a shared secret between them as he took her hand and treated her like a stranger. Cool, calm, collected, all charm.  

It was the same easy charisma she’d leaned into just last night, at the Halloween party, blissfully unaware of who he really was. Except now she knew he’d been telling the truth the whole damn time and she’d just called his bluff wrong. And now, now with all those thoughts running through her mind at Mach 2, she was standing here, in front of the highest-ranking personnel on base, expected to deliver a groundbreaking presentation on her research, trying to ignore the lingering flush of that unexpected run-in this morning.  

Ellie cleared her throat, tightening her grip on her tablet as she began walking the Admirals through her research. Running through her practiced script, she carefully outlined her new detection algorithm—a project that had garnered their attention in the first place, the same work that had pulled her back here, to Miramar.   

Truthfully, if they’d asked any probing questions, Ellie would have to confess that the technology was in its earliest stages but had the potential to counteract enemy jamming of GPS signals. In theory (because that was the key word theory), the algorithm she’d developed, on paper, had the potential to become an un-jammable navigation system.  

Ellie clicked through to the next slide, “The reason this algorithm has the potential to give our pilots the advantage is because the enemy would have -”  

You have to say please, sweetheart. 

The memory from last night, his words a steady command, sent a pulse through her, from her chest, down into her core, where it settled, hot and pulsing. 

Ellie’s voice caught in her throat, and she coughed, before holding up her index finger and pouring herself a glass of water from the pitcher at the head of the table. Quietly she sipped the water, her eyes landing outside the window at the tarmac as ground crew guided an F18 out of the hangar. She waited for a beat, measuring her sips as she calmed down. 

Get your shit together, Rigby. She coached herself, draining the last of the water as she caught Admiral Simpson checking his watch from the corner of her eye. You are not going to screw this up because you had sex last night.    

Incredible sex.     

The best sex you've had in the last two years... possibly in your entire life.    

Top tier sex... with your new co-worker. Who just so happens to fall into the off-limits category. 

If she could have shaken her head without it seeming strange, she would have, but she suspected she was getting into foot tapping territory. With Admirals, time was money. 

“I’m sorry, as I was saying—” Ellie straightened her blazer, setting the glass down and resuming her presentation, determined.      

When she finished, Admiral Simpson leaned back, giving her a thoughtful once-over as he drummed his fingers on the folder containing her research on the table in front of him. “Well, Ms. Neven,” he said, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The best of the best. That’s what they told me about you. I suppose that must run in the family.”  

The weight of the comment hit her immediately, and her mind reeled again. This time for an entirely different reason. She hadn’t anticipated Rick’s reputation coming up so soon—or at all.  

She managed a quick nod, hoping it looked confident. “Thank you, sir,” she said, barely keeping her voice steady.  

Simpson’s smile deepened. “When we saw you were one of the top minds in the field, it was a no-brainer to bring you in for this project. Your research is intriguing.” His gaze softened slightly, just enough to give her a glimpse of the man behind the rank and she wondered if, for half a second, it had anything to do with the fact that he had a daughter her age. “You’re going to do great things here. Your dad’ll be proud, no doubt.”  

Ellie nodded again, murmuring her thanks, feeling an odd pressure bubbling under the surface. Truthfully, she had expected some bluster about her family, some comments about her father and his Radar Intercept Officer being wingmen for the late Fleet Commander Tom “Iceman” Kazansky. She hadn’t expected it this soon. 

“Admiral Stark and I will take a look over your documentation and see how best to get the testing started. I trust you’ll let us know if you need anything in the meantime?” Admiral Simpson stood then, and an Officer stationed outside the boardroom opened the door from the outside.  

The meeting adjourned, and as everyone began to filter out, Ellie felt herself unraveling by the second, anxiety pushing its way to the forefront. She wanted to scream or laugh, possibly both. Instead, she was rooted in place, unable to decide whether to escape to the nearest empty room or brace herself against the wall and breathe. If she didn’t leave this room for the rest of the day, what were the chances she’d run into him again? Probably slim. 

This was her first day here. The first day and she was thinking about how she’d been laid bare and fucked out of her mind by a man she’d never thought she’d see again, much less work with. All in the middle of one of the most important presentations of her entire life, in front of the people who could make that research into something tangible, a finished product, a cornerstone of new technology in aviation, a reality.   

The lights in the boardroom automatically flicked off and Ellie sighed, gathering up the last of her things before exiting the room. She could hide in the women’s bathroom, right? 

“Ms. Neven.” RADM Stark’s voice approaching from the hallway behind her startled Ellie. As she turned, Ellie watched as Stark appraised her with a mix of curiosity and approval. “Impressive work. It’s good to have some estrogen in the room for once.” Her lips curled into a slight smirk, and Ellie let out the measured breath she’d been holding.  

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m—excited to work here,” Ellie's voice was a little steadier now, a bit of genuine enthusiasm breaking through her nerves as she reminded herself why she was here in the first place. Her work. Her career. Her tech.  

Stark raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Don’t get too excited,” she said, producing a small stick of concealer from a crisp tan pant pocket. She held Ellie’s gaze, a message or a warning behind her cool eyes, Ellie couldn’t be sure, as the ranked Officer handed the makeup to Ellie. “I think we might be the same shade.”   

Ellie’s heart stuttered as the realization hit her, broad-sided. Her hand shot to her neck before she could think, the heat in her cheeks flaring brighter than before as she accepted the concealer, mumbling a mortified thank-you.  

Stark gave her a knowing smile, a curt little nod as she tapped the side of her nose, before walking away, her stride as calm and confident as when she’d approached.    

Ellie waited until the RADM was clear from sight before making a beeline for the bathroom, practically stumbling into the mirror over the sink. She tilted her head to confirm what she already knew was there: a very visible, very damning mark on her neck. The scarlet letter.   

Great.    

She didn’t waste a second applying RADM Stark’s concealer, muttering under her breath as she blended it carefully with the tips of her fingers, dabbing. “One day at Miramar, Ellie. One day.”    

As she swiped on the secondary layer of concealer for good measure, she felt the rush of everything hit her again. The tension of the presentation, the equal parts pride and pressure from the Admiral’s praise, and him—Lieutenant Seresin, Hangman, with his easy, cocky grin and the piercing eyes that, despite everything, she could still feel on her.  

tags: @mrsevans90 , @avengersfan25 , @hookslove1592

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[cowboybeepboop]

Please please please write something angsty with Hangman that ends with smut, it doesn't have to be too angsty but I really like how soft you write him

Pairing: Jake “Hangan” Seresin x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut

Word count: 6.6k 

Summary: You’re a psychologist who is currently working with Maverick which means that Jake Seresin is back in your life. The two of you used to be friends but things changed between you during senior year. Seeing him again brings back memories, and feelings you thought you’d suppressed.

Warnings: not even slightly accurate to irl navy experience (I feel like that would be an assumption but nevertheless), mentions of bullying, Jake being a horrible person in the past, hand stuff, oral fem receiving. 

a/n: lowkey this was rlly fun to write, I'm not so great at angst so I hope this is good. Again, as always, I hope you enjoy and please send any requests you might have <3 I love to write requests so feel free to send anything! Also also, send me a message if you want to be tagged in future Glen Powell/Hangman fics.

You and Jake went to the same highschool and were great friends yet both late bloomers. You grew into yourself during your sophomore year of college whereas Jake did in Senior year of high school, when he got his big growth spurt and lost his braces. Something about him entirely humiliating you by standing you up on Prom night, something you were looking forward to, simply because of how much you liked him has you holding a grudge. 

So when you ran into him during your new position as a clinical psychologist for the Navy, your heart quite literally stopped. You thought that pretending you didn't see him would suffice, but, unfortunately the universe has a completely different plan. 

Your boss had introduced you to Maverick, they planned to have you check out his new team in order to make sure they are competent for the missions the government plans for them to complete. That's how you ended up in the gruff man's office every morning, despite his obvious disdain for your presence in their team. 

The evening sunlight beats down on you as you stand next to Maverick, watching the team go through their training drills. You notice him glance over at you, before focusing back on the team in front of you.

"How's that observing going for you?" He asks with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, never taking his eyes off the team performing push-ups.

“Honestly Sir,” you glance over to him, “You’re really good at training, but I think you should be flying missions. You’re too good of a pilot to be stuck on teaching duties.” 

Maverick pauses for a moment, caught off guard by your unexpected compliment. It's clear he wasn't expecting you to say that. He huffs, shaking his head as if trying to dismiss what you said.

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises, sweetheart." He smirks and turns to look you in the eye. "I take it you read up on my file, huh? Got all the dirty little details on Mr. Top Gun himself."

“Of course, but my father trained here a couple years after you.” your gaze returns to the aviators, “He’s always looked up to you, says you're one of the greatest.” 

Maverick's smirk falters for a second, his expression unreadable. He shifts his weight and adjusts the collar of his shirt, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable.

"Your old man, huh?” He clears his throat. “I had no idea." There's a brief pause before he speaks again, his voice taking on a slightly softer tone. "What's he doing nowadays?"

You reply with a shrug, “Not sure. He wasn’t so keen on having a *shrink* hanging around. Said it cramps his style.” Maverick snorts, that sarcastic smirk returning to his face. 

"Yeah, that sounds like a pilot, alright." He says with a chuckle. His gaze flicks over to the team, currently going through flight drills. He lets out a deep breath before speaking again, a hint of contemplation in his voice. "Did you ever think about becoming a pilot?”

“I did, but I don't think I meet the height requirement.” you smile up at him. Maverick chuckles at your joke, a rare glimpse of genuine humor in his expression.

"Ah yes, the height requirement. The bane of many short people's existence." He teases, his smirk widening. Before you can respond, both of you turn your attention to the sound of the aviators approaching. They look exhausted but pleased, clearly proud of a job well done.

Jake walks towards you, sweat dripping down his forehead from the strenuous training. He stands a little too close, his eyes fixed on you and his breathing heavy. "Hey, Y/N." Jake says, his voice strained from the workout. "You got a minute?” you shift your gaze to the older man at your right, clearing your throat before speaking. 

“No, I’m quite busy.” your usual playful tone is replaced with a distant and cold one.

Maverick picks up on your plea immediately, his expression hardening at the sight of Jake's attempt to speak with you. He steps forward slightly, creating a small barrier between you and Jake.

Jake looks taken back by your cold response, his cocky demeanor slipping slightly. He glances between you and Maverick, clearly confused. "Ah, come on. Just a quick minute." He presses.

“There’s time to talk later.” Maverick interrupts, making you sigh in relief. Jake's cocky smile falters at your cold rejection and Maverick's intervention. He glances at the older man, clearly annoyed by his interruption. 

"It's alright, Maverick," he says, trying to shrug off Maverick's protective stance. "I just wanted to talk to Y/N for a second. It won't take long."  you cower behind Mav, unwilling to face Jake alone again.

Rooster interrupts the tense situation, “Mav, should we hit the showers? Or is there more training to be done?” Jake’s face darkens at Rooster’s question, clearly frustrated that his attempt to speak with you is being constantly interrupted. He clenches his jaw, his irritation palpable.

Maverick, however, remains calm. He gives you a reassuring look before turning to face his team. "Yeah, you guys go ahead and hit the showers." Maverick says, his hand still on your shoulder. "I’ll take care of the situation here." The team nods, sensing the tension in the air, and starts making their way towards the showers.

You avoid Jake's gaze, biting down on your lower lip as you sigh with the tension between the three of you. As the team heads off to the showers, the tension in the air still hangs heavily. Jake stands there, hands on his hips, as he stares at you with a mix of disappointment and anger.

Meanwhile, Maverick's hand goes to your shoulder, a silent show of support. "You really going to keep avoiding me like this?" Jake finally blurts out, breaking the silence.

“If I can.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re like a damn hawk.” Mav gives you a quizzical gaze before you sigh. “It’s okay Sir, I’ll talk to him” he gives you a soft nod, heading off toward the buildings. 

Once Maverick leaves, Jake's attention refocuses on you, his gaze narrowing as he steps closer. "You’ve been avoiding me all week. We need to talk." His voice is firm, his frustration evident.

“It’s only been a couple days,” you protest, Jake's annoyance only grows at your words, his jaw tightening as he steps even closer, closing the space between you. 

"A couple of days?! It's felt like an eternity. And yeah, I remember our last conversation. It didn't exactly go well." He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at you. "You can't keep brushing me aside like this." 

You take a few steps back, sighing with defeat. “Jake, why do you care so much now?” Jake's eyes flick down to the space between you, watching you take a few steps back. His expression softens slightly as he hears the resignation in your voice.

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration etched across his features. "Why do I care?” he repeats, as if the answer should be obvious. “Because I..." He trails off, his own emotions catching him off guard. He pauses, grappling with the words he wants to say, before finding them again. 

You gulp, brushing past him heading toward the buildings. Jake turns, his eyes following you as you try to brush past him. He reaches out, his hand encircling your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"Hey, wait." His voice is softer now, more pleading. "Please, just stop and listen to me for a second."

“Okay, fine.” you pull your wrist from his grasp. Jake's hand hangs in the air for a moment after you pull away, your sharp movement surprising him slightly. But he quickly regains his composure and drops it back to his side.

He takes a deep breath and steps closer to you. He wants to reach out and touch you again, but he restrains himself. "I just... I can't stand this. This constant avoidance." 

“Worked well for you when it was you avoiding me.” you bite back. 

Jake's face flushes slightly, guilt flashing across his features. Your words hit him like a punch to the gut, reminding him of his own past behavior. He lets out a frustrated breath, his gaze dropping to the ground. "That was different..." 

“It’s not and you know it.” your head lowers as your mind goes back to your previous conversation, where you confessed your feelings for him and he shut them down quickly. Jake looks at you as your head lowers, regret in his eyes. He instinctively reaches out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Baby, please." His voice is soft, almost pleading. "Just let me talk for a minute." His touch is tentative, as if he's afraid you'll brush him away again. He wants you to hear him out, but he doesn't want to push you further away in the process. 

You’re taken aback by the pet name, allowing him time to speak. Jake notices the effect his words have on you, a flicker of hope sparking in his eyes. He realizes that he might have a chance to explain himself now.

He takes a deep breath and begins, his voice steady but sincere. "When you told me about your feelings, it took me completely by surprise. I didn't expect it at all. And, honestly, I didn't know how to handle it." His gaze drops to the ground for a moment, his hand lightly squeezing your shoulder. 

You take a deep breath, “Jake,” you move his hand from you. “The only reason you care now is because, because I’m finally *decent* enough for your attention.” 

Jake's expression darkens at your words, a mixture of anger and regret in his eyes. He knows your words carry truth, and it hurts. "That's not true." he protests, his voice tight. "If I'm here now, it's not because I suddenly think you're *decent enough*. It's because..." 

“Because what?” your eyes scan his face. 

Jake runs a hand through his hair, struggling to find the words to explain himself. His eyes lock onto yours, as he tries to convey the depth of his emotions.

"Because I realize now what an idiot I've been," he bursts out, his frustration and remorse clear in his tone. "But... something changed and I..." 

“What changed?” you sigh, Jake's eyes drop to the ground as he grapples with how to answer. He runs a hand through his hair before looking back up at you.

"I don't know," he admits, his voice quieter now, "maybe it was time, or realizing I'm not a kid anymore, but..." He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "You're different now. You've grown, you've become this..." He gestures towards you, struggling to find the right words. 

“Jake stop..” you look up at him with wary eyes, “That's not fair,”

Jake stops, his eyes widening at your words. "What do you mean it's not fair?" He steps forward, confusion and frustration etched in his expression.

"I'm trying to explain myself, to make you understand why I care now," he says, his voice straining to remain calm. "How is that not fair?"

“Why? Why now?” your voice becomes louder with your growing frustration. Jake's own frustration flares up in response to your growing anger. His hands clench into fists at his sides as he tries to control his emotions.

"I can't explain why now!" he snaps, his voice rising to match yours. "I don't know why I didn't say anything before. I was a dumbass, and I'm sorry!" He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes never leaving your face. "I... I just wish I could go back and fix everything.” 

You open your mouth to speak, yet nothing leaves your lips. Jake notices your hesitation and his expression softens slightly, hope flickering in his eyes. He takes a step closer, his voice quieter now.

"Please. Just... say something. Anything." his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer, his hand pressing into the small of your back. You stay silent, unable to process his words and find a response. 

Jake's touch on your waist is firm but not overpowering. He pulls you closer, his eyes searching your face for some kind of response. He notices your silence, the way you seem to be frozen in place. His brow furrows with concern. "Please, talk to me," he pleads. "Don't just stand there." 

You cover his mouth with your hand, needing a second to think. Jake freezes as you place your hand over his mouth, preventing him from speaking any further for the moment. He instinctively responds to your touch, however, pressing a soft kiss against your palm.

His eyes fix on yours, full of hope and anticipation, waiting for you to speak. You feel your guard dropping with his affection, leaning into his body. 

Jake pulls you closer as you lean into him, his arms wrapping fully around you. The tension in the air eases slightly as he holds you tight against his body, his heart racing against your chest. He takes a deep breath, his chin resting on the top of your head. "Please, just talk to me," he whispers into your hair, his voice gentle and desperate. 

“Jake…” you press your forehead against his shoulder, “I..” Jake feels your forehead press against his shoulder, and he holds you a little tighter, his arms encircling you like a protective veil.

"Please," he repeats, his voice barely a whisper, "tell me what you're thinking." He gently tucks a finger under your chin, gently tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes search yours, desperate for some kind of response. 

Your eyes glance to his lips, hands grasping his sides. “I, uh. I don’t know what to say,” your tongue flicks out to wet your lip. Jake's body tenses as he leans in towards you, his breath warm against your lips. He holds you tightly, his grip firm but gentle.

"You don't have to say anything," he murmurs, the corners of his lips barely brushing against yours, "Just... just let me show you." His eyes search yours, filled with a deep mixture of desire and vulnerability. Waiting for your response, for any sign that it's okay to proceed. 

“Jake..” you murmur, his breath hitches at the tone of your voice, the sound of his name on your lips sending a shiver down his spine. He leans in even closer, his lips mere millimeters from yours, his eyes locked on yours.

"Say it again," he whispers, his voice low and rough. "Say my name again." you shake your head in response,  pressing your lips to his. Jake's heart stutters at the touch of your lips against his. He responds immediately, the tension between you snapping as he kisses you back.

He molds his body against yours, one hand gripping your hip to pull you tighter against his chest. The other hand moves to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He kisses you deeply, a thousand unsaid words translated through the contact. 

Your desire momentarily outweighs your grudge against him. Your resistance fades further as Jake's hand slides down your back, his touch igniting a fire within you. He caresses your body with a combination of firm desire and tender finesse, as if he's both demanding and reverent.

His hand cups your ass, his touch a combination of possessive and loving. He pulls you even closer, pressing your body fully against his, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth. He kisses you hungrily, his body craving more, but his hands remain gentle and careful. 

Jake pulls back from the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. Both of you gasp for air, chests heaving as you take a moment to catch your breath.

His eyes remain locked onto yours, a mix of desire, hope, and something else - something deeper - swirling within them. His hands remain on your body, his touch possessive but tender. He runs his thumb over your cheek, a soft gesture of affection. "Say something," he murmurs again, his voice gruff with need. 

“I think,” you take a deep breath, “I think I should leave Jake.” your hands fall from his sides. 

As you speak, as those words leave your lips, something flickers in Jake's eyes. Fear, regret, desperation, all battling for dominance within him. He feels your hands fall away from his sides and his own hands tighten slightly on your hips, as if reflexively trying to pull you back.

"Please, don't go." His voice is thick with emotion, his grip on you bordering on pleading. "Please." your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him in for another deep kiss. Your brain constantly fighting the way your body clings to him. 

As your lips meet in another deep kiss, Jake melts into your touch like a man starved. His hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against his body, his touch firm and possessive.

He kisses you hungrily, his tongue delving into your mouth, seeking connection and reassurance. His heartbeat thuds against your chest, his body reacting to your touch with a mix of need and desperation. 

He doesn't want to let you go. Not now. Jake's body presses even closer against yours, his leg slipping in between yours, creating a tantalizing friction as he wedges himself between your thighs.

His hands roam your body, his touch both rough and tender, a manifestation of the emotions he can't quite find words for. His mouth moves down your neck, his kisses becoming more insistent, more possessive, like a man marking his claim.

He needs you, and he's making it painfully clear. You moan softly, your head leaning to the side to give him better access. Jake's hands grip your hips as he kisses your neck, his lips tracing a path of fire along your skin. The sound of your soft moans only emboldens him, his own body responding to your noises in kind.

You feel him harden against you, a physical reminder of his desire for you. His kisses grow more intense, his teeth gently nipping at your skin as he tries to reign in his self-control. 

He wants more. He needs more. He growls against your skin, his hands moving under your shirt, his fingers tracing up your sides. He nips lightly at your collarbone, his own need growing with each sound that leaves your lips.

“Mm Jake,” you push against his chest, “Wait.” Jake's body stills as you push against his chest, his mind still clouded with desire. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes hazy and dark.

He tries to process what you're saying, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. He swallows hard, trying to control his racing heart. "Wait... what?" His voice is low and hoarse, his body still pressed against yours, his hands gripping your hip. 

“Take me home,” you murmur, intoxicated by his body on yours. Your lips press to his with hunger, arms wrapping around his neck. Jake's brain struggles to process your words, his body still caught in the haze of desire that surrounds you both. But as your lips brush against his again, the sound of your voice, filled with need, cuts through the fog.

He responds to your hunger with his own, pulling you even closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, his body pressed completely against yours.

When the kiss finally breaks, he rests his forehead against yours, his voice a ragged whisper. "Yes. Anything you want." you nod against his head, pulling him closer as you’re unwilling to let him go. 

Jake holds you tight as you nod, his arms encircling you possessively, not wanting to let you go either.

He takes a moment to compose himself, taking a deep breath and trying to gather his thoughts. But the feeling of you in his arms, the sound of your voice, the scent of your skin, they all cloud his mind and make it difficult to do anything but touch you.

He nuzzles his face into your neck, his voice low and rough. "We need to go." 

“Mhm,” your hands wander down his chest, to his lower abdomen, moving to his belt. “We really need to,” Your touch on his body sets his nerves on fire, his muscles tensing under your hands as you move them lower. The feel of your fingers on his belt sends a shiver down his spine, his breath hitching at the contact.

He swallows hard, trying to maintain his composure, but your proximity and your touch make it difficult. He grips your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he tries to control himself. His voice, when he speaks, is a rough murmur. "Not here.”

You reluctantly pull away from him, handing him the keys from your pocket. Jake takes them from you, his fingers brushing against yours, the contact electric. He watches you pull away, his eyes following your movements closely.

He clenches the keys in his fist, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat in his veins. His body thrums with need, the need to touch you, to hold you, to *claim* you.

He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "Lead the way." you slide into the passenger seat of your car, putting your address into the gps, restlessly waiting for him inside. Jake slides into the driver's seat beside you, his movements quick and urgent. The sight of you in the seat next to him, the knowledge that he's about to take you home, only serves to heighten his desire.

He starts the car, his hand gripping the gear shift tightly, his knuckles turning white. He glances over at you, taking in your restless demeanor, and a smirk crosses his lips. He knows exactly how affected you are, and it only makes his own need surge. Your hand falls to his lap as you squeeze your legs together in anticipation of what's to come. 

Jake's breath hitches as your hand lands on his lap, the touch sending a jolt through his body. He can tell how tightly you're holding yourself, how the anticipation is affecting you, and it only adds to his own desire.

His eyes flicker down to your hand on his lap, and he has to fight the urge to pull the car over and take you right then and there.

He keeps his eyes on the road, his grip on the steering wheel white-knuckled. "We're almost there." His voice is hoarse, filled with tension. 

“Almost,” you whisper in response, moving your fingertips over his bulge, teasing his body. 

Your fingers brush over his erection, and he lets out a strangled gasp. His hand flies to yours, pressing your hand against him, as if trying to both stop you and encourage you at the same time.

He clenches his jaw, his body tensing at your touch. "Tease," he mutters through clenched teeth, his eyes darting from the road to you and back again. He groans, his body aching for release. You move closer, using your free hand to unbuckle his belt. 

You successfully remove his belt, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper. Jake's breath catches in his throat as you move closer, your hands working on removing his pants. His body tenses, both in anticipation and because he's trying to focus on driving.

He bites back another curse as you unbutton and unzip his pants, his eyes flickering between the road and your hands. He grips the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles white with tension. "We're almost there," he repeats, his voice strained. "Just... just hold on a little longer." 

“Fifteen more minutes,” you groan, hand sliding into his pants. Jake's body jerks at your touch, his hips lifting involuntarily, seeking more of your touch. He lets out a low, ragged groan, struggling to keep his focus on the road.

He looks at you, his eyes dark and intense. "Fifteen minutes," he repeats in agreement, his voice gravelly and rough, "that's it. I can last fifteen minutes." He reaches down, his hand covering yours, but not pushing you away, his touch firm and possessive. 

“Mm, but I can’t.” you murmur as you free him from his boxers, his erection standing straight up. Your words and your touch send a shiver down Jake's spine, his body responding to your every move. 

He closes his eyes for a moment, your touch like fire to his skin, the air in the car suddenly thick. "Jesus," he breathes, his head falling back, "you're going to make me crash."

As you stroke him gently, Jake's eyes fly open, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "If you keep doing that, I'm not going to be able to drive," he warns, his voice strained with desire.

Ignoring Jake's warning, you lean in and press a soft kiss to his jaw, sending shivers down his spine. His body jolts with surprise and pleasure. Your hand continues to stroke him as your mouth moves closer to his erection, and with a strangled groan, he abruptly pulls the car over to the side of the road, the tires screeching against the pavement. 

His eyes lock onto yours, a mix of desire and alarm, but he says nothing as you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, the heat of your mouth enveloping him. His hands fly to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as you begin to suck, the rhythm slow and tantalizing.

His hands grasp your shoulders, gently but firmly, and he pulls you away from his lap. "Wait, wee can't do this here," he says, his voice strained with need and concern. His eyes are dark with desire, but he's visibly fighting to regain control. "Not here, this wouldn’t be right." His words hang in the air, and for a moment, the only sound is the heavy panting of your breath and the pulsing of his erection against your hand. 

You reluctantly pull back, your own desire warring with the understanding in his gaze. "Let's go to your place," he suggests, his voice still thick with lust. "We can... talk things out properly there." He releases you, his hands dropping to the steering wheel as he takes several deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

He speeds to your place, rushing to get you inside. The tension in the car is palpable as Jake shifts it into park, his eyes never leaving yours. You both exit the vehicle, and he takes your hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle given the fiery passion that had flared between you moments ago. As you enter your townhouse, the urgency from the car seems to dissipate slightly, allowing for a brief moment of awkwardness to settle in. 

You unlock the door and lead him inside, the cool air conditioning a stark contrast to the heat that still simmers between you. Once the door is closed, Jake turns to you, his gaze searching your face for any hint of regret or hesitation. Seeing none, he leans in, capturing your mouth in a kiss that's both desperate and tender. 

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, as if trying to erase the years of hurt and distance. His hands roam over your body, reacquainting themselves with your curves, and for a moment, it feels like no time has passed at all.

The kiss deepens, and Jake's hands move to the button of your pants, his fingers deftly undoing it and sliding the zipper down. You gasp into his mouth as he breaks the kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he kneels before you. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. 

His gaze travels downward, taking in your wetness with a mix of hunger and awe. "Fuck," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire, before pressing his mouth to your inner thigh, kissing and nipping the sensitive flesh as he moves closer to your center. His tongue traces the line of your pussy, eliciting a moan from deep within you. His hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as he kisses and licks you with purposeful strokes, the heat of his breath sending waves of pleasure through your body. 

You lean back, falling into the couch, your legs spreading wider, giving him full access to explore and taste you. The tension of the day dissipates as he worships your body, his mouth working magic on your clit, his hands exploring and caressing you as if trying to make up for lost time. The air is thick with the scent of arousal, the only sounds in the room your muffled moans and the wet sounds of his tongue against your skin. 

Jake's eyes meet yours again, and you can see the need in them, the raw desire that matches your own. You reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, urging him closer, whispering his name as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge.

As Jake continues to kiss and suck on your clit, you can't help but squirm against his mouth, the sensations building to an unbearable peak. You grab onto his shoulders for support, your moans growing louder with each passing moment. 

Suddenly, the dam breaks and you cum hard, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. He doesn't pull away, instead, he laps up every drop of your release, groaning with his own pleasure at the taste of you. 

As the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse onto the couch, panting and trembling, your eyes fluttering open to meet his intense gaze. He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a smug look on his face. "See, we can still get along," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. 

The sight of him standing there, looking so confident and desperate for more, makes your heart race. You can't deny the pull between you, the undeniable chemistry that's always been there. But as you look into his eyes, you know that this isn't just about sex. 

Jake's kisses slowly travel up your legs, turning from hungry to gentle pecks that make your skin tingle with sensitivity. His eyes never leave yours as he shifts his body, moving from his knees to the couch beside you. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you can feel his heart racing in sync with your own. 

His other hand continues to trace patterns on your bare thigh, the softness of his touch a stark contrast to the fervor of moments ago. His eyes are filled with a tenderness that you never knew existed within him, and it's this that has your chest tightening with a mix of emotions. 

With trembling hands, Jake fumbles with his zipper, the metal teeth parting with a low hiss. His eyes never leave your face, the intensity of his gaze setting your skin alight. He swiftly pushes his pants down to his thighs, freeing his erection. It stands tall and proud, a testament to his desire. The room feels like it's closing in, the air thick with anticipation.

You pull him to you by his collar, kissing his lips hungrily. The fabric of his shirt is rough against your skin, but the heat of his body underneath is anything but. His tongue meets yours with an urgency that mirrors your own, your kisses deepening as his hand slides up your shirt, palming your breast. You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as his thumb grazes your nipple.

He pulls you onto his lap, your legs straddling his thighs. He kisses you again, his tongue invading your mouth with a passion that leaves you breathless. You can feel him, hot and hard, pressing against your wetness, and it's all you can do to not grind down onto him immediately.

Jake's hands are everywhere, exploring the curves of your body as if he's worshiping a sacred relic. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin as he kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of soft, sucking marks that make you shiver with pleasure. His teeth graze your skin, not hard enough to break it, but enough to leave a sting that makes your pulse race.

As your moans fill the quiet room, you can't help but move your hand to wrap around his erection. Your grip is firm, your strokes measured as you watch his face contort with pleasure. His eyes are closed, his head thrown back, and the noises he makes are pure, unadulterated ecstasy. You stroke him faster, your hand moving in a rhythm that matches the beat of your racing heart.

His hips buck upward, meeting your hand with each stroke, his breath coming in short, ragged pants. You can feel the tension in his body, the coiled spring of his muscles ready to snap. And when he's right there, on the precipice of climax, his head falls forward into the crook of your neck, his mouth finding your skin.

The feel of his needy moans against your flesh sends a shiver down your spine, your own body responding to the raw, primal sounds. You tighten your grip, your strokes becoming quicker, more erratic, your own breathing syncing with his. Each moan that escapes his lips is like a command, urging you to bring him over the edge.

His body tenses beneath you, his muscles tightening like a bowstring about to snap. And then it happens. With a guttural moan, he cums undone in your hand, his release hot and sticky as it coats your palm and fingers. His hips jerk upward, his cock pulsing in your grip as he rides out the waves of pleasure. His eyes squeeze shut, and his breath comes out in sharp gasps.

For a moment, there's silence, save for the sound of your own racing heart and his labored breathing. You sit there, still straddling him, watching him come down from the high of his orgasm. His chest is heaving, his eyes still closed as he savors the feeling.

You slide from his lap, relaxing into your couch as the weight of your actions crashes over you. You turn your back to him, biting your lip as you think about what to do next.

Jake watches you, his eyes tracing the curves of your body, still trying to regain his breath. He reaches out, his hand brushing against your arm, his touch gentle but insistent. "Look at me," he murmurs, his voice raspy and rough.

You turn to him with a breathy sigh, avoiding his gaze. Jake notices your averted eyes, his fingers moving to your chin, gently lifting it until you're forced to meet his gaze. 

"Don't look away," he whispers, his eyes searching yours. "I want to see you."

"Jake," you whisper his name, eyes softening at his expression. You knew it wasn’t a mistake, it couldn't be, not on your part. You've been in love with him your whole life, but what if it was all lust for him. 

Jake cups your face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the lines of your cheekbones. He can see the mixture of emotions in your eyes - love, lust, fear, and regret. He gently shakes his head, his gaze intense.

“Jake, is this really what you wanted?” you take a deep breath, “Not just some game to you?” 

Jake watches you intently as you withdraw, his hands falling to your waist, his touch firm yet gentle. "This isn't a game to me," he says, his voice serious. "It never was." 

He pulls you closer, his eyes locked onto yours. "I've always wanted you, more than anything else," he continues, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "But I thought I lost my chance with you a long time ago." he presses a soft kiss to your chest. 

The tension in your body vanishes the second he speaks, you relax into his touch, audibly sighing. “Always?”

Jake smiles, his hands roaming your body as if trying to memorize every contour. "Always," he confirms, his voice a whisper. "Since we were kids." He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest. He can feel your tension melting away, replaced by an air of comfortable intimacy.

“You’re confusing,” you sigh, feeling his hands pulling you closer to him, his chin resting on top of your breasts. 

Jake chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. "I know," he replies, his arms encircling you possessively. "I've always had a habit of making you scratch your head, haven't I?"

He nuzzles his face against your chest, his tongue tracing a gentle line between your cleavage. "But that's nothing new," he whispers, his voice husky with desire. "I've always gotten a kick out of confusing you."

You gasp in response to his tongue, hands squeezing his shoulders. “Mm, fuck.” Jake feels your hands clenching his shoulders, and he grins against your skin, his tongue continuing to explore the valley between your breasts. 

"Language, princess," he teases, his voice laced with amusement. "You know how I feel about filthy mouths."His lips move up to your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. "Makes me want to shut you up."

“Are you going to be able to be professional at work?” your murmur, hands tangling in his hair as you force him to look at you.

Jake chuckles, his eyes meeting yours. "Are you kidding me?" he counters, his grin widening. "When have I ever been professional when it comes to you?"

He shakes his head, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush against each other. "I've been trying to hide how I feel about you for years. Do you really think now that I've finally got you in my arms, I'm going to play it cool at work?"

“Jake,” you purse your lips at him, pressing a quick peck to his. “You know that I already have a problem with your coworkers…I don't want to make it worse.”

Jake lets out a groan of frustration, his hands moving to the small of your back, pulling you even closer. "I know, I know," he mutters, his lips returning to your neck. "But can you blame me for acting like a possessive jerk? You've got all those guys drooling over you, and it drives me insane."

“They only drool over me because of how form fitting my uniform is,” you reply sweetly, “Now imagine if they saw me in a bikini.” you whisper against his ear teasingly. 

Jake's grip on you tightens, his breath hitching at your words. "A bikini," he repeats, his voice dropping an octave. "Now that's a mental image I'll have trouble getting out of my head."

He pulls back slightly to look at you, his gaze dark with desire. "You like teasing me, don't you?" he accuses, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You know what that does to me."

“I think we need to take a beach trip one of these days,” you smile innocently.

Jake's hands continue to roam your body, his touch growing more possessive. "A beach trip?" he echoes, his mind already filling with images of you in a bikini. "That's a dangerous idea, princess."

He leans in, his lips moving to your ear. "But I like how you think," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive.

[thewulf]

Easy Skies || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

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

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

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.7k +

T/W : None just fluff

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[simpforrooster]

bullseye.

jake “hangman” seresin x f!reader

summary: you’re tired of waiting for jake to make a move, so you force his hand.

t/w: mentions of alcohol, some kissing

the dart leaves your hand sloppily. if only your dad could see you. he’d be so embarrassed.

you throw another one, no skill or finesse.

you feel his eyes on you.

hangman.

glancing over your shoulder at him, you meet those green eyes. his mouth quirks up in the corner. that damn mouth. he has no idea how distracting that mouth is.

you and jake have been flirty with one another since you met, but he refuses to make a move.

that ends today.

bringing your attention back to the dartboard, faux concentration covers your features. you take a few practice throws, then let the dart sail towards to board.

it misses.

footsteps sound behind you, followed by a beer bottle being set on a table.

“darlin’, you are no good at this,” hangman’s southern drawl heats your insides. all he has to do is call you darlin’ with that accent and you’d do anything for him.

putting a hand on your hip, you turn to look at him. “i know,” you whine, poking out your bottom lip for dramatic effect.

hangman’s eyes fall to your mouth, then back up to your eyes.

jackpot.

“turn around,” he says, nodding toward the board and putting a dart in your hand.

hangman slides up behind you, barely touching you.

“you’re throwing this all willy nilly, there’s a strategy to it,” he tells you in your ear. his hand runs slowly down your right arm, resting on your hand holding the dart. his hot breath against your ear causes your heart to pick up. you pray he doesn’t notice.

he guides your hand up. “loosen your grip,” he murmurs. his other hand comes to your waist. he steps forward closing the little space between you. the feeling of his body against yours is everything. you lean back against him, just slightly.

that hand on your waist slides down to your hip. “the trick is confidence.” hangman pulls your hand back, and your let it go when he guides you forward.

bullseye.

“atta girl.”

the praise makes you want to turn in his arms and kiss him. jake takes a deep breath, his chest pushing into your back. the hand on your hip hasn’t moved.

“wanna play me?” you ask him.

“what’s in it for me?”

“an easy win?” you turn and he looks down at you. you don’t miss his gaze falling to your mouth again.

the two of you could be the only ones in this bar with the tension floating between you. it’s getting harder and harder not to engage in anything inappropriate.

“if you win, i’ll buy you a drink,” you offer. it’s lame, but

he smirks. “i’ll take that. what if you win?”

“if i win,” you pretend to think. his thumb rubs a spot above your shorts, causing goosebumps.

“yeah?” he murmurs.

“i want a date.”

he squeezes your hip. “deal.”

jake steps away from you. “ladies first.”

you turn toward the board. you feign hesitation. you glance over to jake and give him a shrug. “here goes.”

looking toward the board, you throw the dart with perfect form and precision.

bullseye.

jake’s mouth falls open. two more darts follow and land in the center circle.

“well, well, well. did you hustle me, darlin’?” that southern drawl melts your insides. jake steps toward you.

“you gonna throw your darts?” you ask him. he takes another step. he looks from you to the board.

“you and i both know i can land all three of mine in the same circle with my eyes closed.” he smiles down at you.

“we do know that,” you agree. feeling brave, you bring your hand to his waist, knotting your hand in his soft t shirt. his gaze falls to your hand, then back to your face.

he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’ve got to give it to you, i’m impressed.”

“i was tired of you not making a move,” you admit, pulling him closer to you.

“you want me to make a move, huh?” he asks. your bravado leaves you thanks to the way he’s looking at you. his eyes search your face, pupils blown.

“yes, jake,” you breathe. a groan escapes his mouth and he pulls your face toward him. kissing him is like being on fire and he’s the only thing that can put you out. your body arches into his, and your name falls from his lips like a prayer.

“every bit as perfect as i imagined,” he whispers against your mouth.

this time, you close the gap. he takes your lead, fully making out with you in the middle of penny’s bar. luckily, the dart board is situated the in the corner so you’re pretty sure no one is paying y’all any attention.

“psst, hey man,” coyote’s voice pulls the two of you apart. “things appear to be escalating past bar appropriate.” he gestures between the two of you.

jake grins down at you. “wanna get out of here?”

“yes, jake.”

masterlist.

[writing-until-i-drop]

Gummy Bears | Comfort Drabble wc: 438

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

You and Jake are on a road trip to visit his sister and you have the most important job, passenger princess.

Warnings! A little suggestive, allusions to smut but no smut, fluffy and domestic

Requested by @closetspngirl

You leaned your head against the window, watching the scenery go by in a blur. Jake had insisted that instead of flying to see his sister in New Mexico, the two of you should drive the 700 miles instead.

The thought of a 12 hour drive hadn't been appealing at first but Jake knew how to convince you. Sitting in his truck in the Hard Deck parking lot he had pulled you into his lap, kissing you senseless before lavishing your neck with attention, bruising the delicate skin while your noises filled the cab. Knowing you were putty in his hands, that's when Jake asked,

"Don't you want to be my passenger princess, darlin'?" When you finally gave in, he made sure you had nothing but good memories of the passenger seat (and the backseat just to be safe).

Now you were curled into yourself in the passenger seat with one of Jake's larger hands resting on your thigh, fighting off a yawn and failing.

"Take a nap, darlin',"

"M'not tired." You spotted a sign for one of the nicer gas stations, "Get off here, baby. I just need some sugar."

"I can give you some sugar," Jake dropped his voice making you giggle.

"Shut up," He laughed as you batted his hand off your thigh for wandering too far and took the exit as requested.

Jake guided you into the gas station, his hand in your back pocket. He kept himself pressed against your back, making sure no one even thought about coming near you and even though it was a tad over protective, you loved it. Jake was always like this in new places, not trusting strangers anywhere near you.

"What does my girl want for her snack, hmm?" He kissed your neck as you debated your options.

"I'm between the gummy bears and the M&Ms." Jake grabbed both and guided you towards the drinks,

"Is there a reason you're rushing me, Lieutenant?" He squeezed your ass,

"Just want to get back on the road and to our hotel room."

"We'd be there by now if we had flown," You laughed, grabbing two waters and a soda from the coolers. "But no, someone just haaaaaad to drive." Jake shook his head at you, stealing a chaste kiss that left you wanting more as he paid and pulled you back to the truck.

Despite the candy and caffeine, you fell asleep not long later with Jake's hand holding yours, his thumb smoothing over your knuckles. When you woke up a few hours later you blindly reached for your gummy bears, only to find the pack empty.

"Jacob!"

[bradshawsvinyl]

Castles Crumbling

Tolerate It (Part two)

read part one here.

authors note: not sure if this is the ending you guys were expecting but I hope you like it!

warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of death, miscommunication tropes.

It was two in the morning when Jake softly unlocked the door to the home he shared with you. He silently took off his shoes and went upstairs to see where you were. He knew taking off on you was wrong. He knew that you just wanted to let him in. All you ever tried to do was love him and all he ever did was shut you out.

He had been planning to propose to you. He was constantly in communication with your best friend Julianna. He was talking to her about things he didn’t quite understand like ring sizes and diamonds. He wanted to make this proposal perfect for you. He wanted to give you everything you deserved and more.

But work was stressing him out. Maverick warned Jake and the rest of the squad that they would be shipping off for an important mission in the next three months. The mission details were classified. All Maverick said was that they’d better prepare their families for the possibility that they might not come back.

Mortality had never scared Jake away from doing his job. He knew he was one of the best fighter pilots in the nation. That was why he was a part of Top Gun.

Mortality never scared Jake until he met you. He knew he loved you. You were the only person he ever saw a future with. Kids, a dog, a white picket fence, he wanted that with you. But in the back of his mind, he knew there was a chance that something could go wrong on a mission. He didn’t want to leave you alone with kids or make you a widow. He couldn’t do that to you. And so he did the only thing he knew how to do. He ran.

Jake crept upstairs and found you sitting up in bed reading a book. “I thought you would be asleep by now.” He said while sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“I can’t sleep if you’re not here. You know that Seresin.” You replied, still looking at the words in your hands.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly. “I shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t right to shut you out and I-“

“Don’t even,” You interrupted him. “You can’t keep doing this to me Jake. It isn’t fair. All I've ever wanted to do was help you. You can’t keep shutting me out.”

“Baby, I know I'm sorry I'm just overwhelmed with work. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You didn’t know what else to do?” You replied, voice rising from anger. “You could’ve talked to me. You didn’t have to leave me here crying like an idiot over something that I don’t even know about.”

“I know it’s just that I'm not the best at dealing with my emotions.” He said softly. “I love you.”

“Why was Julianna calling you then?” You changed the subject.

“What do you…” Jake started.

“Don’t play stupid Seresin. I saw her call you five times in the span of 10 minutes. She’s my friend. You’ve only met her a few times. Why would she be calling you at ten o'clock at night?”

Jake’s just looked at you in disbelief. There was nothing going on between him and Julianna. He was simply asking her for her opinion on how to propose and what ring to buy. She was your best friend after all. He couldn’t believe that you would think he was cheating on you with her. If you asked him to give you the moon, he would’ve done it. No questions asked.

“What are you insinuating?” He said slowly growing more angry when he realized what you thought he was doing.

“I’m insinuating that you’re seeing her on the side.” You said, near tears. “Just tell me the truth Jake. I can’t keep sitting here wondering why you’re shutting me out. You can’t keep leaving me here like an idiot.”

“Listen,” he said while grabbing your hands. “There is nothing going on between me and Julianna. I just needed to ask her something. That’s it. I would never cheat on you. You’re the only person I could ever love.”

“So why won’t you let me in.” You whispered. “If it’s not her then who? You won’t talk to me anymore. You won’t touch me. You barely even look at me.”

Suddenly Jake’s face dropped. “I might not come back.” He said, so softly that you might have missed it if you weren’t right next to him.

“What do you mean you might not come back?” You said growing more and more confused.

“Maverick said that this next mission is going to be dangerous. He said to hope for the best but expect the worst and I just-“ Suddenly Jake started sobbing.

You were shocked. Suddenly things started making sense. He was shutting you out because he didn’t want you to be hurt if he didn’t come back. You knew Jake tended to be more quiet when there was a tough mission coming up.

You pulled him into a tight hug and began to comfort him. “Why didn’t you tell me? I can’t help you if I don’t know what is going on with you.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you. I never wanted to hurt you. I was just trying to protect you.” He said.

“I’m here for you no matter what.” You said, eyes beginning to fill with tears. “We’re a team. You have to tell me if there’s something happening. I love you.”

“I’m sorry.” He said while kissing your cheek. “I didn’t want to be a burden. I should’ve told you about the mission sooner. You’re my rock. I love you.”

As your tears and Jake's tears subside, he holds you tightly. You hold him back feeling all the walls between the two of you crumble.

Jake knew two things for certain. He would come home to you, and he would marry you.

[topgun-imagines]

No Worse Pain

Requested: yes

Summary: Bradley has been extremely stressed at work lately. You don’t want to add to that by telling him about the pain you’re in.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: periods, cramps, pain.

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

Stupid fucking period cramps. In your entire life, you couldn’t remember another time when you wished for the pain to dissipate this badly. You felt like sobbing. For the past three hours, you had been curled up on the couch, hands clutching your lower waist desperately. You hadn’t had period cramps this bad for years. While you weren’t exactly sure what caused the pain to be this intense, you were silently praying that it would disappear soon.

Another wave of pain rolled through you, causing you to curl up even further and hiss quietly. Normally, Bradley would be curled up right behind you. Only, this week, he was conveniently so busy at work that even as the clock struck 11:00 pm, he was still nowhere close to coming home. So, you were left to find a way to deal with the cramps yourself.

However, nothing was working. You had taken painkillers and had a hot water bottle pressed against your lower stomach. And yet you still couldn’t find any relief. There was a random show playing in the background, but you couldn’t focus enough to make sense of it. You were so out of it that you didn’t even hear the crunch of your finance’s tires as he pulled into the driveway. Nor did you hear the door open with a loud creak.

It felt as if there was a 100-pound weight on his shoulders as Bradley stepped through the door and into your shared home. He hated the fact that he was only coming home to you this late at night. Usually, he was home in time for the two of you to share dinner. Lately, however, he had been coming home later and later. Over the past few weeks, Bradley’s workload had increased tenfold. He had stacks upon stacks of paperwork, plus training, and he was up for a new promotion.

The added stress had put a small strain on your relationship. A few arguments had been caused by Bradley’s newly added stress. However, they had been small and had quickly blown over. Now, as he kicked his heavy boots off and dropped his backpack onto the floor, all he wanted was to be with you.

He walked around the corner, ready to be greeted with the sight of you with your hair tossed up in a messy bun, pyjamas on and binging some new show that he had never heard of. But what he saw had him freezing for a second. The show was playing, just like how he had imagined, but you were balled up on the couch, whimpering quietly and turned away from the TV.

“Honey?” The second you heard his voice you were trying to hide the fact that you were in pain. With everything that Bradley had going on at work, you didn’t want to add more to his load. He immediately rushed forward and crouched down beside you. “Is everything okay?” The soothing feeling of his hand gently caressing your side had you wanting to burst into tears. Your emotions really were a wreck right now.

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you rolled over with what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “All good, baby. How was your day?” You silently pleaded that changing the topic would work. He hesitated for a moment, searching your face for any sign of pain before he relented.

“It was alright. Stressful as usual,” Somehow, that only made you feel worse. Knowing that Bradley had such a terrible day, the thought of him having to come home, expecting to relax, and having to deal with your pain instead made you feel uneasy. He noticed you wince when you shifted, your hand grasping your lower stomach. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Regardless of the pain, you plastered a smile on your face. Bradley seemed to accept your single nod and dropped the subject. Wordlessly, you stood from the couch and made your way to the bedroom, Bradley hot on your heels.

Getting ready for bed was a hard task when you were trying to mask how much pain you were in. You could tell that Bradley was still suspicious, but you were grateful that he didn’t say anything. You disappeared into the bathroom, popping a few more painkillers into your mouth and finished your business.

Bradley was sitting on the bed when you returned. You could only smile at him, kissing his cheek as you climbed into bed. The soft cry that escaped you as you sat down had Bradley’s head snapping over to you. He cooed softly as he wrapped his arms around you and held you against his chest. You began crying softly, hating the fact that you were putting additional stress on your fiance. “Honey, it’s okay.” He attempted to soothe you quietly, but your tears only fell harder.

“Darlin’, please,” Your fiance pleaded quietly, asking, begging you to tell him what was hurting you. “Just let me in.” His forehead knocked against yours and you could feel the love and sincerity rolling off him in waves. He wanted you to open up to him. He wanted you to share that with him. So you nodded.

You took in a breath and began explaining yourself. “I got my period this morning. You were already at work,” You noted when you saw that Bradley was confused. “Everything was fine until this evening. Then I got really bad cramps and nothing I did worked. It really hurts.” You whimpered quietly. Sighing, your fiance hugged you tighter and ran his fingers through your hair gently.

Even though you had told him what was hurting you, he knew that there was something you were still holding back. Bradley simply held you, waiting for you to open up on your own. And when you spoke, Bradley was shocked at the words that came out of your mouth. “But even though it hurt that bad, the hardest part was not telling you.” Your head was resting on his chest and the room was so quiet that you could hear his heartbeat pick up at his words.

Given the promotion that he was up against, you really didn't want to draw his focus away from his work. You knew how much Bradley wanted this and you would never be able to forgive yourself if you were the reason that he didn’t get it.

It took your fiance a few seconds to form a response. “I’m sorry that you’re in pain, princess. Lay down, let me help you.” You obeyed, shuffling under the covers and letting Bradley maneuver you. He moved you until you were laying on your side with Bradley spooning you from behind. The feeling of his warm hands sitting on your lower stomach had you almost moaning in relief. Even though you had tried all night to dilute the pain, the second Bradley’s hand hit your skin, you felt a thousand times better.

There was a silent communication between the two of you as you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms. No matter how busy or stressed Bradley was, you could share anything with him. It didn’t matter how big or small the problem, he wanted to know.

a/n: Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for reading and requests are open :)

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[ailoda]

updated: 17.01.25

ᯓ ✈︎ smut

It's That Simple (❤❅✘): praise kink. (@tropes-and-tales) (warning: self-doubt, panic attack)

Four Eyes (❤✘): asking bob to make a mess of himself on your face while you wear his glasses? absolutely. (@promisingyounglady)

Pretend (❤✘): you aren't sure what's worse: having to share a bed with the boy who was your first boyfriend who you haven't seen in years, or having to pretend he's your boyfriend when you wish he actually was. (@attapullman)

Bob From Stats (✘): college is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is. (@attapullman)

That's Mine (✘): Bob likes Rooster. He does. So why does he suddenly hate him when his childhood best friend agrees to go out on a date with the pilot? (@attapullman)

Ruin the Friendship (✘): the night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he's learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He's determined to fix that. (@withahappyrefrain)

I Need A Minute (✘): overstimulation. (@roosterforme)

I'm Not Sorry (✘): "i should be riding some nerd’s thigh while he gropes all over my body & tells me i’m the girl of his dreams." (@drabbles-mc)

Domesticated (❤✘): on a lazy Sunday morning with Robert Floyd and your twin girls, you're reminded exactly how well he takes care of your family. And you. (@attapullman)

Warmth (❤✘): you took care of Bob the night before, and he makes sure to return the favor in the morning. (@sugarcoated-lame)

new! Entertain Me (❅✘): after fighting, you make bob eat his words. (@peachystenbrough)

new! Deserve It (✘): after working hard, your boyfriend gives you several rewards. (@withahappyrefrain)

new! Explicitly Yours (❤❅✘): when Bob met you, he fell for you hard and fast. He thought you might be his perfect match, the one that would make his days feel full instead of lonely. He never would have dreamed you had a secret. But secrets are known to be revealed at the most inconvenient of times, and Bob's surprised hesitation could cost him the thing he wants most. (@roosterforme)