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roosterforme · 5 months

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Adult Education Part 12 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica enjoys showing off her closet almost as much as Jake enjoys unwrapping his gift. When the two of them head to the fundraiser she's spent weeks planning, Jake recognizes the strong feelings he has for her. And there's no way he'd let anyone take this night away from her.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral f receiving, angst, swearing, frat boys, 18+

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

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

Jake was trying to play it cool on Friday night as he knocked on Jessica's door. "I'm coming!" she called from inside as he shifted the baking dish around in his hand along with his garment bag. He had everything he would need for the weekend, including his suit for her fundraiser.

When she opened the door for him, she looked breathless and flushed. "Hi," she whispered, and then Jake had her in his arms, too.

"I missed you," he replied. "But I need you to take this lasagna before I drop it."

"Oh! You brought dinner?" she asked, looking astonished as she took the foil covered dish from his arms. "You didn't have to do that."

"I like feeding you," he told her with a wink as he walked inside and closed her apartment door behind him. And then he really took a look at her. She was wearing a deep purple jewel toned robe and seemingly nothing else. It was short and silky and barely covered her backside as she ran into her tiny, mostly unused kitchen and peeked inside the foil.

"It looks so good," she moaned.

Jake draped his garment jacket over the back of the couch and tossed his overnight bag with it as he headed for the kitchen as well. "Preheat the oven and we can eat it in about an hour."

She did, and then she spun to face him as she adjusted her glasses. Her nipples were peaks against the silk fabric, and Jake desperately wanted to untie it and see if she was wearing panties. Jessica was his girlfriend, and technically she had invited him over to look at and enjoy her lingerie collection with him, but he didn't want to make it seem like that was the only reason he was here. Because it wasn't.

He leaned in and kissed her. "I'm looking forward to tomorrow night."

"Me too," she replied, leaning away from him a bit as she reached for the sash holding her robe closed. "But I'm looking forward to tonight just as much. And I have a great idea of how we can entertain ourselves while dinner cooks."

Jake watched her fingers work the knot until the fabric drifted open to reveal her delicate skin from the valley between her breasts all the way down to her pussy. "I love the way you think," he murmured, running his knuckles along her belly button. "You're so damn smart, Baby." He trailed his hand slowly up her body until he was cupping her chin while she shivered.

"You stay here while I go change?" Her eyes were wide and focused on his as he stroked her neck.

"Mmhmm. I'll put the food in the oven and set the timer. Be there in a minute."

Jessica bounced off toward her bedroom with her robe flying behind her while Jake had to unzip his jeans for a little relief. He had to fight the urge to touch himself as he waited for the oven to preheat. How the hell was this happening to him? He counted his blessings as he put the lasagna in to cook and followed Jessica at a slower pace. Her bedroom was softly lit and smelled as sweet as she always did. When he found her, she was standing in her small walk-in closet with her back to him.

"Reedy," he crooned. She was wearing more of those black stockings he liked so much. The tops of them just barely dug into her soft thighs, and she had on her black high heels. This time she paired them with a black garter belt and thong, and when she tossed her hair across her upper back, he saw her black bra straps, too.

She peeked at him over her shoulder and whispered, "Wanna unwrap your present?"

He was already sweating. Jake tugged his own tee shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor as he stepped up right behind her. "I think I'd like to enjoy the way it looks first."

Soft laughter filled the small space as Jake's hands found her shoulders and then trailed them down her arms. She shivered when he pressed the front of his jeans to her ass, letting her feel the rough fabric on her perfect skin. "Jake," she whispered, rubbing back against him as he brought his hands around to the front of her waist to her soft belly.

When he kissed the side of her neck, she arched her back, and those pretty breasts were jutting out covered in black lace. "I like this look on you," he whispered, bringing his left hand up to squeeze her tits. "It's a little filthy. Where's my sweet Jessica?"

She whined as his right hand dipped into the front of her thong and went right for her clit. "I'm still sweet," she mumbled, already sounding out of breath as he sucked on the side of her neck.

"You sure are," he mused, pushing two fingers through her folds and inside her as she bucked. He licked her neck and whispered, "Let me taste your pussy?"

Jake was rock hard in his jeans as she rubbed on him and moaned, "Anything you want."

He smirked and sucked on her neck hard enough to leave a mark. Then he withdrew his fingers and pulled his hand free from the black lace. He spun her around to watch him lick his fingers clean of her slick, and she already looked a little dazed. "If you offer up everything, I can't promise I won't take it."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and chased his lips, and Jake let her taste herself there. He palmed her ass and scooped her up, and she gasped and giggled when he dropped her onto her back on the bed. "What are you gonna do?" she asked, adjusting her glasses with a little grin as she looked up at him.

"Well first of all, I'm gonna take that little grin off your face," he whispered, reaching for her ankles and pulling her to the edge of the bed as she squealed. "Then I'm gonna make you come." He kissed the inside of her left calf before gently guiding both legs over his shoulders. The silky stockings felt nice on his bare skin as he bent and kissed along her belly. Her fingers were in his hair as he reached beneath her and unclasped her bra. She helped him toss it away as he licked and nuzzled the undersides of her breasts. "Jesus," he moaned, pushing her thighs back with his shoulders to get better access to her tits.

Jessica whimpered as he rubbed at her wet pussy through the thong while he sucked on her nipples. She was lying here, prepared to let him do what he wanted, but the only thing he needed was to prove he was good enough for her. Jake took his time, licking and sucking and worshipping her breasts until she was begging him for more. He took her hands in his and guided them from his hair and wrapped them around the backs of her own thighs.

"You keep yourself open nice and wide for me," he grunted, kneeling on the floor and kissing her inner thigh. She smelled sweet and ready for him; she'd already soaked through her lingerie.

"Okay," she whispered, watching him with parted lips as he tugged her thong to one side and buried his nose in her pussy. He kissed her opening as her high heels dug into his back a little bit, and she bucked up toward his face.

"Shh," he coaxed, holding her hips still as she whined his name. "I'm right here." That just seemed to make her go crazier, because he had to pin her down to the bed to enjoy her the way he wanted to: leisurely and thoroughly.

"Fuck," she gasped, spreading her own legs wider as Jake wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked softly at first and then harder. The little bud was as smooth as a pearl against his tongue and oh so sensitive. "Jake," she whispered as he lapped her up before kissing the little patch of her trimmed hair.

"You want me to stop?" he teased, and she tried to buck up for more.

"No!" she whined.

He kissed her clit. "Then spread 'em wider for me, Baby," he crooned, licking her up and down when she obeyed him. He ate her out like she deserved, coating his chin and lips with her slick and his saliva, licking and sucking until she was shaking. Then he just sucked a steady rhythm on her clit until her gasps and cries grew louder and louder. The gentle roll of her hips fighting him for more pressure let him know she was close.

Then he felt and tasted the little gush against his tongue as she dripped down his chin. Her legs fell limp as he looked up at her perfect body where her breasts shook alluringly with each little aftershock while she chewed on her fingers.

"Damn," he grunted, easing her legs down gently. He could hear the kitchen timer going off as she looked up at him. When he eased his body down on top of hers, he cock twitched, but he convinced himself he could wait to get himself wet. "You're gorgeous," he whispered, and she brought her fingers back to his hair as he kissed her cheeks and then her parted lips. "Let me get your robe, and you just take your time coming to the kitchen for dinner."

"You don't need to fuck me?" she asked softly.

Jake chuckled. "Not as badly as I need to feed you dinner so you have energy for later."

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Jessica was sitting at her table in her lingerie with her robe wrapped around her, a clip holding her messy hair on top of her head. Jake was bustling around the kitchen in just his unzipped jeans wearing her oven mitts and humming along to a song that must have been stuck in his head. She groaned and cradled her face in her hands. He was so sexy and so damn sweet. How was she supposed to have stopped herself from falling for him?

"Baby, you want me to open this bottle of wine?" he asked, holding up the merlot that was on the counter.

"Sure," she replied, watching his biceps work the wine opener. Then he brought her a plate of piping hot, homemade lasagna and a glass of her favorite wine. Before he could turn back to the kitchen to grab the rest, she reached for his hand. "Thank you."

Jake chuckled. "I should be thanking you," he muttered, kissing her forehead before he went to get his own food.

She didn't realize how hungry she was until she took a bite. "It's so good," she whispered before she worked on cleaning her plate. Jessica mostly subsisted off of cereal, sandwiches, and lean cuisines unless he cooked something for her, and this was so delicious, she could have cried. She ate a second serving with no remorse.

"I was going to change into something else," she whispered as she finished her glass of wine. "I'll let you choose something this time. But it's your fault and your lasagna's fault if I look bloated now."

Jake pushed his chair back, sitting there looking like a model from Men's Health magazine. When he patted his thigh, she straddled his lap and took a seat. Once again he untied the sash of her robe and stroked her from the top of her chest, down between her bare breasts, to the top of her garter belt. "Still looks perfect to me," he mumbled, pushing her robe open further and playing with her nipple. "You said I get to choose this time?" he asked, smirking up at her as he cupped her breast and leaned in to kiss the bruised spot on her neck.

"Mmhmm," she hummed, leaning into his touch. "Pick a color and I'll get changed so you can fuck me."

Jake grunted. "Navy blue."

She smiled and kissed him before heading back to her closet with just the perfect thing in mind. As she slipped into a lacy, crotchless teddy in a rich, dark blue, she could hear Jake cleaning up in the kitchen. She selected a pair of red heels and let her hair out of the clip. She felt really sexy in this one, and when Jake walked into the bedroom, she was already bent over the bed, resting on her elbows, on display for him.

"That's a beautiful sight," he murmured, his voice deep with need. Jessica could feel her nipples furl at his words alone. "Is this for me?" he asked, patting her bare pussy from behind.

"Yes," she moaned as he slid his hand up to her butt.

"How about this?"

"Yes," she repeated, feeling like she must be wet enough to drip on the floor.

Without another word, she felt his knee wedge between her thighs, and he knocked her feet further apart with his own. "Jake," she whispered, legs spread wide as he squeezed her thighs, and then she felt his mouth on her again. "Oh."

He licked her pussy until she was practically seeing stars. When her legs shook, Jake helped her kneel on the edge of the bed, and then he ate her some more. His hands were a little rougher this time on her thighs, but it felt so good. And he was a quick study, because he had her coming again on his tongue.

She braced her hands on her light blue bedding, ready for him to start thrusting; he had more than earned it. But instead, Jake helped her roll over onto her back as she caught her breath, and then he plopped down next to her and took her hand.

"You wanna change one more time?" he asked, stroking his fingers through her messy hair. "This time I'll unwrap my present before having my way with it."

She closed her eyes and basked in his words before she started to stand. "I have just the thing."

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Jake eased his jeans down his legs, his lips still wet with Jessica. He'd be lying right now if he said he didn't desperately need to cum. He stroked himself slowly as she opened and closed some drawers in her closet, and his hand was still wrapped around his cock when she returned.

Somehow she'd gone from the naughty, strappy lingerie to this cream colored set, but he was just as turned on for this more innocent look. A cupless bra that tied into a soft, satin bow over her breasts and some high waisted underwear. "Come here, Smart Girl," he growled, and she seemed to know just what he wanted as she crawled on top of him. "I like this."

He adjusted her glasses and kissed her lips as he ran his big hand along her panties. Everything was so soft. Like he'd never had before. Even her voice as she whispered, "Go ahead and unwrap me," sounded sweet to his ears. So he slid her underwear down to her bare feet, and she kicked them aside. Then without warning, she wrapped her hand around his cock and sank down on him. She swirled her hips slowly as he untied the satin bow slowly until her tits popped free.

Jake brought his lips up to her chest as she braced her hands on his shoulders. She made soft, needy little noises as she bumped along with her tits in his face. "You're the perfect present," he whispered. "Can't get enough."

When he rolled her onto her back and thrust into her until he came, he kissed her flushed cheeks and her lips as she moaned. Then he got to enjoy the sight of his cum leaking out of her hole and down her ass before he accompanied her to the shower.

She was soft and drowsy in his arms, resting her cheek against his chest as he told her how she was always so sweet for him. How she was everything he wanted. He knew he was falling in love with his Smart Girl who kept him on his toes.

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Jessica slept so well snuggled up tight with Jake, her fingers in his chest hair. Apparently she was more worn out than she thought, because it was after ten on Saturday morning when she opened her eyes. And as soon as she did, he wrapped his arms around her tighter. "Morning," he whispered. "You ready for your fancy fundraiser?"

She groaned. On paper, yes, she was ready. Mentally? Hardly. "Can we just stay in bed all day instead?" she asked softly as Jake kissed her shoulder.

"No," he replied. "I want to see you in action. Work up an appetite for tonight."

She chuckled. "Well I'm putting you, Bradley and Dev to work all evening."

"Dev is coming?" Jake asked abruptly, his hand pausing on her body.

"Yeah. I invited him when he donated the beer. I've been emailing him to coordinate since he sent me things for the silent auction."

"He has a thing for you," Jake said bluntly. Jessica shimmied around until she was facing him. "Bradshaw told me like a hundred times with a smug look on his face."

She felt her cheeks grow warm. "But I have a thing for you. You're my boyfriend."

Jake kissed her softly and asked, "Did you give him your phone number inside one of the journals from your personal collection?"

"No!" she replied, scandalized. "You're the only one I could ever want to tease like that. Although I was honestly a little afraid I took it too far and you had given up on me." She buried her face against his neck since she didn't have her glasses on.

"Baby, I was so hooked after the first night at Chippy's, I'd still be begging you for your number now. I mean, Jessica... I bought a new truck for you."

"Oh my god," she moaned, certain her face was bright red. Butterflies erupted in her tummy as she thought about it. "Jake. Stop."

"I don't want to."

The morning gave way to lunchtime as they made love. She knew it would take her a while to get ready for the event, but she just couldn't rush something that felt so good. "I love this," Jake whispered against her ear while he had her hands pinned on the pillow above her head. Goosebumps covered her arms and legs. All the fine hairs on her body were tingling at the sensation of him rocking into her while he whispered, "Love it."

Then he made her brunch while she took a quick shower and cleaned up the mess he made with his cum. She ate eggs and toast with a huge mug of coffee while he headed off to shower, leaving her with the words, "I could get used to Saturdays like this."

She could, too. Jake was the best combination of everything. Sure, he could cook and he was hot and good in bed, but she liked having him around. She thought about him all day when she was at work. And he seemed to know how often she needed to have her own space. He bought a truck to make sure he wasn't late meeting her again. She groaned softly, already feeling needy for him again. How the hell was that possible? She was actually quite sore at the moment.

With a soft smile, she put her plate in the dishwasher and headed to her closet. She was pulling on the tiny emerald green underwear when Jake strolled in completely naked. "Hey," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her from behind. She melted against him, his skin still warm and damp from the shower. "What color are you wearing so I know which tie to put on?"

She pointed to the long, green dress hanging up. "This one."

"Pretty," he mumbled against her temple. "Then I'll wear my black tie instead of red or gold."

Once he was gone again, she shivered as she fixed her hair and makeup in her underwear. Jake was completely dressed and shaved with his hair styled by the time she was ready. He helped her into her dress and zipped up the back. It was tasteful with a flowing skirt, but there was a long slit going up her left leg. The top fit snugly over her breasts, and the thin straps accentuated her collarbones and shoulders.

When she put her glasses back on, Jake said, "You're a knockout, Reedy. You ready to go to this thing?"

She slipped her heels on, gathered up her bag filled with notebooks and folders and then laced her fingers with his. "Let's go."

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Jake could tell she was nervous. His main goal for the evening was to help make everything as easy as possible for her, but she was quiet in his truck on the drive over. He wasn't sure what he could do for her right now. When she reached for his hand, she held onto him while she anxiously checked her phone. Jake was pretty sure they had plenty of time to get everything done, and he would take care of whatever she needed.

"Okay, so Bradley is loading the chilled kegs into his Bronco right now according to his wife, and then they are heading over to campus. The ice buckets should be ready. The frat boys reassured me they did everything on the checklist, including moving the furniture outside. The string quartet should arrive at 5:30. Dev should arrive around then, too. You and Bradley can set up the tables for beer pong. The culinary students should be in the kitchen within the next hour. Oh my god, did I miss anything?"

"Baby, I think you have it all under control," Jake said in as calming a voice as he could manage.

But she went silent and stared out the window. Several minutes passed before she quietly said, "I need this to be perfect if I ever stand a chance at tenure under Brian."

Jake let his fingers tighten around her small hand. He didn't even like hearing her say his name. "Will he be there?" Jake asked, his voice sounding a little rough.

She kind of shrugged as he turned down the block near the frat houses. "I wouldn't be surprised if he stops by. But I sold so many tickets, I don't see what he could complain about," she replied, her voice sounding a little more confident.

"Right," Jake said, parking behind the Bronco where Bradshaw and his wife were making out on the sidewalk. "Just stay with me, okay? And if you need anything, I'll help you take care of it."

"Okay," she whispered with a smile. And Jake knew he'd punch Brian Conley directly in his face before he let him upset his girlfriend tonight.

Bradshaw and his wife managed to separate long enough for Bradley to help Jessica down from the truck. Jake just shook his head at the other man sporting a black suit without a tie paired with a University of Chicago cap perched backwards on his head. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone.

"You have a little something right there," Jessica told him, pointing to his lips and cheek where his wife's red lipstick was smudged.

"Yeah," he replied with a nod and a smirk and then did absolutely nothing to clean himself up.

His wife was wearing a form fitting black dress reminiscent of the one she wore on New Year's Eve when Jake got severely drunk and called her Dr. Tits. But this dress wasn't low cut, and it had a pretty sheer fabric covering her up to her neck and down her arms to her wrists.

"Hi, Jake," she said, almost like she knew what he was thinking about. "Are you going to behave tonight?"

He nodded at Jessica and said, "I've turned over a new leaf." That made the other woman smile.

"Listen," Bradley said, adjusting his cap before he wrapped his arm around his wife. "I helped the guys put the kegs in the tubs of ice. But I gotta ask, is this like some sort of nerd frat or something?" he asked Jessica, jerking his thumb at the Kappa Pi house behind him. "They called me sir, and there are absolutely no half naked girls hanging out inside."

Both women laughed at the look of concern on his face. "I told them no personal guests. Only those with purchased tickets will be admitted. In fact, I'm going to have one of them stationed at the door scanning the tickets on everyone's phones."

"I still think it's a nerd frat," he muttered as Jessica took Jake by the hand and led him up to the front door with the other two in tow. "And I don't know how I feel about that."

Once they were inside, Jake looked around the entryway with appreciation. Victorian style wallpaper, crown molding and glossy hardwood floors. The wide stairs had a carpet runner, and it actually smelled nice. "Is this what your fraternity house was like, Bradshaw?"

"No." The other man nearly doubled over in laughter as he shook his head. "Not even close, Hangman. We would have destroyed all this shit within a week."

"I can vouch for that," his wife added as she patted him on the back.

Jessica turned and looked at him. "Were you in a fraternity, Jake?"

"No," he replied. "But I'm pleasantly surprised by this house. Might have pledged if something like this existed on my campus."

And then suddenly the four of them were no longer alone. A dozen or so guys in tuxedos made their way into the room at the same time the string quartet entered the house. People with chafing dishes came parading through, and Jessica pointed Jake toward five ping pong tables folded up against the wall.

"Don't worry," Bradley said with a knowing smile. "We'll show you how it's done. It'll be just like New Year's Eve."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Jake replied as Jessica blew him a kiss before she got pulled into the kitchen. "Let the fundraiser commence," he mumbled.

"No," Bradley replied, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders. "Let the fratraiser commence."

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Welcome to the fratraiser. What could go wrong? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 13

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

@furiouspiespytaco

@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-joyride

@theharddeck

@withakindheartx

@roosterscockpit

@whatislovevavy

@hangmanbrainrot

@neferpatra

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@averyhotchner

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@mygyn

@hoyaharper

@tallyovie

@gennyanydots

@callsign-magnolia

@whisperofsong

@seriouslyseresin

@double-j

@bradshawsbitch

@sugarcoated-lame

@katiebby04

@anotherr-fine-mess

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

@bringnattolife

@xoxabs88xox

@djs8891

@hufflepufftruffle

@cottagecori

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notroosterbradshaw · 1 year

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Oh thank you for the compliment :) i'm sure you could do it justice but maybe we could get some generic hangman fluff maybe with them at the beach and he looks out for her by putting sunblock on her and making sure she's eats lunch and stays hydrated and he's teasing her and being very playful with her? Thanks

Okie doke, you get your Hangman on the beach, nonny. I hope you enjoy! Hangman fluff awaits. Dagger Squad future fic.

You liked this new tradition you were able to share with Jake. Each year, around the same time depending on deployments, family commitments, you know the normal life stuff, Dagger Squad came from far and wide to try and get back to the beach for their annual defensive football game and bonfire. Mid-afternoon, the egos start running their mouths about which team will win, and what the stakes are (and the winners and partners always enjoyed the 200 push-ups for the losers and Fanboy's sigh at wishing he never mentioned it).

"Right here, baby?" Jake asked quietly, saying a quiet hello to Bob's partner and burgeoning baby belly and Penny. His warm palm skimming the skin between your ripped jeans shorts and his old Foreigner tee you'd knotted in the back to make work. He nuzzled your neck as he dropped the cooler and whipped off his shirt. He hadn't buttoned it so what difference did it mean as he slid out of his flip flops and put all his gear into a pile and into the beach bag.

Some regiments he just couldn't shake, and neatness was one of them. So was the gym. You would love him endlessly anyway, but he was proud of his body and worked hard on maintaining it as he got older. You were proud he was proud he took such good care of himself and you reaped the benefits.

Ha gave you some space as he unfolded the blanket and flicked it out onto the warm sand as Harvard and Yale approached him and within seconds, they were talking about recent deployments, new kit, and manoeuvres. You were as supportive as you could be with things you'd rather be kept in the dark over. Jake respected that. He knew what he did terrifed you but the boys just understood it better than you ever could. You were absolutely not offended.

You tossed some bits and pieces on the blanket, camera, snacks, and sunscreen. "Ooh," Jake smirked, popping to pick up the sunscreen. "May I?" he asked eagerly.

"May I?" you repeated, biting back your grin. "Aren't you proper today?"

"I would hate for you to be burnt. It's a skin trauma, baby," he protested as you took your sunnies off and glared at him. "And I wanna feel you up. Sue me," he shrugged, his true personality shining through.

"Well, aren't you sweet?" you roughly patted his cheek and the masochist in him loved the lack of caress in your touch. He adjusted his jaw appreciatively. "Okay, Jake. Just to avoid the trauma."

"Your skin is your biggest organ," he reminded you, watching you lift the shirt over your shoulders, licking his lips at the additional skin you'd been keeping under wraps. "Not mine..." he muttered cheekily.

"Jake, knock it off," you laughed as he grinned wide, turning you away from him. You wouldn't complain about the extra touch and affection that lasted a good five minutes, you we melting under his light touch. He kissed the nape of your neck in finality. "I'm good?" you asked quietly.

"You're very, very good," he growled playfully swatting your butt.

You gave him space and sat on the beach blanket, sunnies back on, and Jake plopped your hat on your head. "Thank you."

"Here ya go, sweetheart," Jake handed you your water bottle. "Gettin' hot out here," he grinned. He thrived in hot weather. You smiled against his lips as he laid a gentle kiss on you. "You wanna play?" he could hear the catcalling and jeering for Jake to toss the ball around.

"Would rather put knitting needles in my eyes. Only here to watch the bodies," you joked... kind of.

"You just mean mine, right?" he asked, a mix of unsurity and arrogance as you laughed.

"Yes, Jake. Only yours. Go have fun," you reassured him, taking a seat and a cool slug from your water bottle as he stood over you and squatted to give you another sweet kiss.

"I'm glad you're here, sweetheart. I'm happy as this group gets bigger that you're here with me and you get to meet the people I trust more than my own family."

You cupped his jaw. "They are your family. They are our family, baby. You big softie."

Warm in the sun, but you noticed his ears flush and duck his eyes. "Don't tell anyone or my reputation will be shattered," he teased as you both laughed loudly, and his heart swelled to bring that smile to your beautiful face. "Gimme some lovin' before I go and kick these preppy asses," he smiled against your lips and kissed you deeply. "Another," he demanded. "You're so sweet, I can't handle it," his nose nuzzled against yours.

You knew his friends were mocking him behind his back but you were very confident he didn't change his behaviour around his friends and was comfortable enough to lay some love on you and you were very aware of Penny's stare... and jaw-dropping.

"Jake, Jesus!" you hear Coyote holler.

"Your bestie is pissed," you told Jake as he looked back over his shoulder and gave the team a selective one-finger salute. "Go, before they think it's me keeping you here. And not your that's horribly whipped."

"I'm whipped," he admitted and stretched, this incredible body flexing in all the right places, the golden sun making the beads of sweat his flawless skin glisten. Jesus, he was just so sexy. "I freely admit it."

"Go," you scooted him as his persona changed and Hangman arrived.

"All right, all right, all right, who is ready for some football?" he boomed, drifting over to his friends. It got rough and competitive, sweaty and slippery pretty quickly and you got closer a while later to take some polaroids as the sun set for shits and giggles later tonight to hand out. You had a pleasant afternoon as more friends and family joined you and kept you busy.

As the game was called and losers paid their penance in the form of push-ups, you watched Jake and Rooster put together the bonfire, the part you were most excited for. Yes, Jake Seresin was hotter, if possible, in most light, but the way the flames flickered over his face as you chatted with Natasha and he kept his arm around your shoulder, under the pretence of keeping you warmed before the roaring fire.

"You hungry, babydoll?" he murmured in your ear, the barbecue well and truly cranked and the smells driving your tummy into overdrive. "Beer?"

"Yes to both, please?" you asked and he nodded, kissing you tenderly before leaving you with Natasha. She shook her head in disbelief.

"Who is that guy and what did he do with Bagman?" she asked, astonished. You grinned. "That is a man in love."

#just putting it out there #i'm not really a hangman girl #I'll write the occasional drabble #but...#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin fic #jake seresin #hangman fic #hangman x reader #hangman #hangman fluff #notroosterbradshaw #5 min ficlet

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roosterbruiser · 1 year

Note

For the requests: Hangman's girlfriend (also a pilot) overworking herself and passing out and he just takes care of her? There's not enough soft hangman out there

𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮

𝐚 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

When you come to, you're laying on something hard. A groan falls from your chapped lips as you throw your arm over your face to shield yourself from any onlookers.

Before you even open your eyes, just between that strange blackness and the blinding sun seeping in from the windows, you remember what happened. You achingly, embarrassingly remember what happened.

You fainted. You fucking fainted like one of those ditzy girls in the movies from the 40s. You, a Lieutenant Commander and Top Gun graduate and permanent member of the Dagger Squad, fainted in front of everyone.

It's enough to make your cheeks red.

You've been a bit overworked as of late.

You're the maid of honor at your best friend's wedding and it is rapidly approaching, practically licking at your heels at this point. You're also teaching a new course at the academy that has proven to be rigorous--especially when you're in a room with 20 beta versions of Jake Seresin, who you already get enough of between base and your shared home. Additionally, Jake has been talking about the two of you moving out of your house and into something with more space. You know that he isn't just talking about space for your stuff, either. And although the prospect of sharing a life with Jake is downright butterfly-inducing, you've just got a lot on your plate.

You're spread thin. Entirely too, too thin.

You'd simply been strolling along the tarmac after a successful training simulation, listening to Bob talk about the most recent Ted Chiang book he'd just finished. You were hungry, having not had lunch yet, and you were probably a touch dehydrated, too. You'd accidentally left your water bottle at home that day and didn't care to buy any plastic bottles from the vending machine. And you hadn't slept very well on account of planning a road trip to Las Vegas for the bachelorette party after the bride had a change of heart. You'd also just pulled a solid 8-G's in your craft. No big deal, you could handle it all. You always did--Hell, it was your duty to handle it all.

Until you couldn't. It wasn't even a slow decent into it--one minute you were listening to Bob's sweet voice underneath the San Diego sun and now you're blinking up at the ceiling in the infirmary.

"Fuck me," you grumble, shaking your head.

"Not in front of Nurse Bledso, angel," you boyfriend murmurs. You know without even glancing in his direction that he's grinning at Nurse Bledso. "How you feelin'?"

You realize, suddenly, that your head isn't lying on a pillow. It's lying on his lap--that hardness beneath your head is the powerful muscle of his thigh.

You're still getting your bearings as you blink at the tiles on the ceiling and the crisp white walls and the bright lights. You feel moderately okay besides the headache pounding behind your eyes and a tender spot across the knuckles on your left hand.

But then you see Jake. He's looking down at you already, calloused fingers carefully raking through your hair. His face is very soft, eyes swimming with concern and brows knit just slightly.

"Like I fainted," you mumble, frowning.

He looks up at Nurse Bledso, who's watching the two of you from her desk, shaking her head softly.

"She's still got her wits about her, nurse," Jake says, mockingly wiping sweat from his brow. "Thank God!"

You just shake your head softly, biting your lip when he smiles down at you again.

"Did everyone see it?" You ask.

Embarrassment is what you feel most predominantly. Sure, there are still knots in your shoulders and there's still a stone sinking in your belly and you have a sheen of cold sweat over your pasty skin, but what's really bothering you is the thought of collapsing on the tarmac in front of all your fellow Navy-members.

"No," Jake says quickly, seriously. He understand you--he knows you better than anyone in the world, probably--and knows that he shouldn't chide you about this. "Promise, angel."

You sigh in relief, swallowing hard.

"Feel like my head should hurt more than it does," you say, reaching up to check for tender spots. There are none--at least not on your scalp or face. You'd assumed you were going to wake up with stitches in your face or on a little patched of shaved hair on your head. "Did it bounce off the tarmac?"

Jake's cheeks grow a bit pink as he shakes his head, continuing his soothing motion of combing your hair. He must've taken it out of your bun for you and worked all the gel out of it knowing that a tight hairdo would do very little to help your headache.

"I caught you," he says, shrugging gently.

He's a little bit embarrassed about it. It surprises you, because if your boyfriend has been anything in the years you've been together, he's been cocksure and corny. Always very sure of himself and in control, Jake loved to be chivalrous and do things like pull your chair our or open your car door--and he did it all with a mega-watt grin. But right here in the infirmary, holding your heavy head on his lap, combing your hair carefully--he feels that it's a vulnerable thing to admit to you.

Jake had been watching you from the moment your jet landed. He was always watching you--it was just something that happened naturally. He'd always listen to the comms when you were in the air, he wandered out to the tarmac when he know you'd be landing soon, and he was always angling his face towards the sky when you were soaring inside it. It wasn't an accident that he was servicing his plane as you were due to head back on base.

He knew something was wrong as you walked past him without even glancing in his direction. It was like you had tunnel vision (which you legitimately did). He wasn't a fan of the paleness of your face in comparison to the flush in your cheeks or the little stumble in your step. Already he was walking towards you, meaning to innocently ask you if you were doing okay, when you dropped like a goddamn sack of potatoes.

He didn't even realize what he was doing, his body just responding all on its own, until his knees were scraping against the concrete and he was cradling your limp form in his arms. Bob turned around just in time to see it, gaping at you and Jake.

"Jesus, Jake! Is she okay?" Bob asked worriedly, dropping his helmet on the tarmac.

Jake looked down at your parted lips and slacked brows, assessing you for any external damage. He was worried he had been just a fraction too late--that maybe your head had scraped the concrete or your face had collided too hard against his elbow. But you looked fine--well as fine as you could when you were unconscious.

He carried you to the infirmary, both his knees throbbing. He knew as soon as he felt a sticky warmth on his calves that his knees were scraped through his flightsuit. But it didn't matter to him--not when you were so entirely limp in his arms. He hated to see you so helpless.

"You caught me?" You ask quietly, knitting your brows.

He playfully pinches your nose, still being very gentle with you as he mockingly rolls his eyes.

"Is that so hard to believe, angel?"

You're at a loss for words. An overwhelming feeling is washing over you, one that is choking you up and inducing tears on your waterline and making a puddle of something sticky-sweet settle in your belly.

"No," you whisper, voice cracking. "That's not hard to believe."

If you two were alone, Jake would have no issue leaning down to kiss you. Hell, he wouldn't even mind kissing you in front of Nurse Bledso. But he knows that you care about professionalism--being a woman in the Navy, you worked hard to get the respect you should've just been given--so he refrains. But he knows--and let's face it, you know just as well--that you're in for a proper spoiling tonight. Sure, Jake would chastise you for your late lunch and for not simply sharing his water bottle, but more than anything--he was just going to thoroughly take good care of you tonight. Maybe he'd even make you take the day off tomorrow. He was heavily considering taking over your duties as maid of honor temporarily just to take the pressure off your shoulders--well, that and he knew he'd look good in that olive green dress.

"How's the knee, Lieutenant?" Nurse Bledso suddenly pipes up, glasses perched low on her nose.

Jake cringes, nose wrinkling. Thanks for that, Nurse.

You try to sit up slightly, furrowing your brows as Jake sheepishly sighs and presses you until you're lying back again.

"They're fine," he tells Nurse Bledso before looking back down at you with his eyes wide and calm. "They're fine, angel."

But it hurts you to think about Jake getting hurt. And God, you're laying on his legs right now--you're worried you're going to wound him so you start to sit up again before he carefully puts his palm in the middle of your chest and guides you back against his lap.

"But Jake," you try, but he shakes his head softly.

"M'right as rain, angel. Worried about that hand of yours, though."

As if on cue, the knuckles of your left hand are suddenly throbbing. You hesitantly bring your hand to your vision, expecting some sort of nasty gash, but it is bandaged in a pristine white wrap.

Jake carefully takes your wounded hand in his, inspecting it as if he's the one who bandaged it.

"Sorry I didn't get there in time," he mutters to you, looking down at you again.

He's truly sorrowful--your poor, sweet hand got injured. If he had just leapt forward a moment earlier then he could've collected all your limbs and saved you from any hurt at all. It makes his throat ache when he thinks about the scars that will mark your knuckles now.

But you are swooning on his lap.

"Baby, if you hadn't been there, my brain would've been mush," you reason, wrapping your fingers around his.

He sighs. He supposes you're right. Things could've gone a lot worse if he hadn't been there precisely when he had been. He loves Bob and he knows Bob loves you, but Bob was none-the-wiser as he moseyed on beside you. When it came to your safety, there was only one person in the world he trusted and it was himself.

"Don't have much faith in old Baby On Board, do you, angel?"

That has you grinning, laughter tumbling out of your dry mouth despite the throbbing in your temples.

Oh--Jake didn't know his shoulders were practically up by his ears until they relax at the sound of your laugh. You're okay. You're really okay. He knew you weren't seriously injured or sick--logically, he knew that. But carrying your limp form across base and having to let the nurse take over had proven to be more difficult than he cared to admit. He loved you more than anyone--anything, really--in the universe. The thought of something as simple as dehydration and stress hurting you the point of serious harm was making his head hurt.

"You sure your knees are okay, baby?" You ask this softly, concern written all over your features as your laughter dies off and your smile fades. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

He shakes his head at once, his heart sitting in his throat. Here you are in the infirmary and you're asking how he is. It's laughable, really--but it's so you. And he loves you so much.

"Gonna take a lot more to take me down than some silly old scabs, angel," he sighs, carefully kissing each of your wounded knuckles over the thin cotton wrap. "Hell, I'd break both my knees to catch you."

You want to roll your eyes--but you can't. You know he's telling the truth. He'd do anything in the world to hold you safely in his arms.

He's surprised when you lean up to kiss him. It isn't a steamy kiss, isn't one that would lead to anything more. It's a chaste and sweet thing, your hand resting on his cheek, your lips dry. But it makes him giddy anyway.

"Gonna make me start calling you a hero now?" You tease, affectionately swiping your thumb across his cheek.

He grins, chuckling.

"Now? You weren't calling me one before?"

There's that laugh of yours again--it's enough to make Jake release a breath that's been sitting in the middle of his chest since the two of you came into the infirmary.

"Someone's gotta deflate that ego," you tease, resting your cheek against his thigh.

He's still combing his fingers through your hair. And as he's gazing down at you, all the upset of the day fades. You're okay. You're here in his lap, teasing him, kissing him. He caught you. He caught you.

here is my tag list!!

𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞��! 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲, 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐛!

if you liked this, consider checking out my Jake x You story!

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buggerup-busters · 2 years

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@giant-goldfish your AU was so right

#widdershins #widdershins webcomic #hangman's knot #will sharpe #garbage man #now i have figured out how to use objection.lol im unstoppable #(<- is currently being stopped by terrible pain from doing literally anything else )#but im mad i cant figure out how to do the old sprite versions i dont like the hd stuff its ugly

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sunlightmurdock · 3 months

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Ceasefire | 1.2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (18+)

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Synopsis: Bradley Bradshaw is in San Diego, summoned to Top Gun for the first time. Commander “Hyde” Simpson is his flight instructor, and she doesn’t have time for schoolboy crushes.

Warnings: ex-husband!beausimpson, divorce, age gap (rooster is somewhere between 26-28, reader is 38), power imbalance between instructor and student aviator, swearing, slight angst at the end, smut, handjobs, teasing, riding and creampies that are never addressed again, sub!rooster, bondage, probably very inaccurate flight info

…

Eleven weeks have never felt quite so long. At the same time, the memory of seeing Bradley Bradshaw staring at you with that dopey smile still feels so fresh. In one week, classes will officially be over. Rooster will no longer be your student. It’s almost pathetic, the way you’re already miserable at the thought of not seeing his face when you walk in every morning.

Still, in this moment, he’s still here and frowning down at his flight manual. It’s a storming afternoon and the air stuff got canceled, but with Beau’s mood swings lately, class remains to be in session. You’re perched on the edge of your desk, waiting patiently for whichever one of your star pupils can answer your question first.

“Minimum total hydroplaning speed of the main landing gear tires inflated to 250 pounds per square inch is 140 knots groundspeed and, for nose gear tires inflated to 150 per square inch, is 110 knots. Ma’am.” Flipping his toothpick in his mouth and offering you a dimpled grin that proves he knows he’s correct before you tell him, Jake Seresin is a fraction faster than Natasha Trace, who sits directly behind him. It’s not the hardest question. They all should know it. It’s just the rain outside that even made you think of it.

Offering Jake a small smile and a curt nod, you open your mouth to confirm that he is once again correct. To his left, you can’t help but glance across at your favourite thing to look at in this bleak little teaching room. Only, he isn’t smiling at you.

He’s staring down at his NATOPs, brows drawn together in something between frustration and confusion. Maybe embarrassment. You can’t pretend that it isn’t your initial impulse to discredit Jake to save Bradley’s feelings — but you don’t. That’s not your job, and it’s not what you’ve worked so hard to do.

“Good work, Hangman.” You tell him calmly. Bradley doesn’t dare look up from the page. Not once. Rain pours on outside and he spends the entire afternoon glaring at the manual like he wants to rip it to shreds.

As you dismiss the class, the thought looms of this all being over soon. With just one more week to go, there are lots of decisions hanging heavy. Maybe that’s what is getting to him.

“Rooster, hang back. I need to speak to you.”

Instantly, you can tell that this was not the right move. He turns towards you, his face sullen and his eyes dark. Your brows draw together, closing the door behind the last of your students and shutting him in there with you. Alone, he remains just as closed off.

“Are you okay? — You seem kind of—“ One step forwards, you reach out for him with a gentle touch, in a way that could still be mistaken for professionalism if someone were to walk in on the two of you. But, the second your hand grazes his bicep, he shrugs it off.

“I’m fine,” He mutters, gaze turned towards the floor. His usual sunny disposition seems to have gone away with the weather. Your eyes draw into a stern squint. “Am I dismissed?”

“Dis— Okay. No, Bradshaw,” You pretend that one didn’t sting, squaring your shoulders and inhaling slowly, stepping closer so that he has no choice but to see you finally standing in front of him. “No, you’re not dismissed. If you want to start acting like this is about rank, then that’s fine by me. I want you to talk to me either way.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. His eyes dart towards the door, and then back to you. Finally, you watch him soften. His fingertips graze the inside of your palm, choosing to look down at that exchange rather than at you.

“Could you come over tonight?”

“On official Navy business?” You tease, poking softly at his ribs through the fabric of his flight suit. All you’re offered in return is a weak smile.

He links his fingers gently through yours. Slightly more incriminating, if you were to be walked in on. Still, it tugs at your heart strings as he sighs in resignation. “Please, Hyde?”

“Of course,” You tell him, giving his palm a quick squeeze. “I’ll be over just after seven.”

He has to wait for you to finish up your work before you’re able to leave. By the time you find him, he has already worked out and showered, and he has been sitting in his room wallowing for about forty minutes.

“Talk to me,” Even with his mood, there’s nothing he can do but drape his arms around your waist and tuck his head into the soft curve of your neck as you straddle his hips. “That’s what couples do.”

There’s a moment of silence, but not the same as earlier. His hands find the small of your back, tugging you closer as he sighs against your shoulder. You know that this time he’s just finding his words. It’s almost enough, having you here in his bedroom, draped around him, ready to listen.

In the meantime, you inhale the fresh scent of his cologne and turn your face towards his temple, pressing your lips to his damp curls.

“I’m just in my head about graduation,” He settles finally, curling his fingers around your hips, pulling back to look at you. “I knew I wasn’t going to graduate at the top of the class, but — I’m starting to wonder if I even deserve to be up there with all of them. You know?”

Your fingers are soft as they card through his hair, your expression much softer than it should be as his instructor. His fingers can’t sit still, pulling you closer, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Of course you do,” The answer comes instantly, without hesitation. It’s followed by a chaste kiss. He turns his head and sighs again, readying to protest. “You knew the answer today. Doesn’t matter if you can find it in the book before Hangman or not, you knew it.”

“How’re you so sure that I did?” He challenges, frowning back at you. As much as he wants to believe you’re telling him this because you really believe in him, there’s still a voice in the back of his head telling him that you’re just trying to pacify him by giving him what he wants to hear.

You squint back at him, smoothing your fingers through his freshly washed curls.

“Because I know you better than I know anyone in that class, I’ve flown with you,” You tell him softly. He hums as you kiss his cheek. “I know your instincts up there are better than anyone else. Even if the answer isn’t in your head right away, I know that when you’re up there, you would know what to do.”

With that, he sighs and leans his head back. His fingers flex nervously around your hips. With his eyes closed, you used the moment to catch him by surprise. He sucks in a sharp breath as your palm dips between the two of you and grinds against his cock through his shorts.

“I trust you. Up there, and down here.”

His mouth twitches slightly, his eyes softening as he tries to pull back from you. “Hyde… come on, I don’t need you to baby me.”

You smile back at him, giving a curt nod of your head as you brush your palm more firmly against him. The way his throat contracts when he’s trying not to give in to you prickles along your skin, a rush of excitement.

He closes his eyes as you lean in and suck softly at the freckle on the left side of his neck. Your lips trail tantalizingly slowly along his throat until finally he shivers at the feeling of your breath against his earlobe, “Okay. You want me to make you prove it?”

“Make me?” He breathes out, fingers balling into the fabric of your T-shirt, brows knitting together. Already, his cock is standing to attention through the fabric of his shorts.

“That’s right,” It’s a gentle coo, so soft and sweet that Bradley really isn’t expecting it at all when you tug hard at his hair with your other hand. He inhales sharply, catching your hips and pulling you against him. His cheeks flush red, his eyes blown wide and desperate. You’ve never seen a man beg without even opening his mouth before. “Close your eyes for me.”

Another thick swallow, his throat squeezing around nothing as he closes his eyes, his dark lashes brushing against his cheek.

He’s so pliant, giving himself up to your more than capable touch. Lulling him into calmness that he’s powerless to fight against as your mouth kisses at his chest, pushing at the hem of his t-shirt and helping him out of it.

“Contrary to what you might have heard from Hangman, or from Pete Mitchell,” Bradley bites at the inside of his cheek as you lick at his freshly exposed chest, nipping at his pectoral. Even with his eyes closed, he’s red and embarrassed by how hard his nipples are in the chilled room. “Being a good aviator isn’t about confidence.”

If you’re going to keep talking as you head further south, he’s going to struggle to keep listening. His hands follow you as you slip out of his lap and settle between his knees, your tongue trailing along his middle.

“Instinct is everything.”

Bradley balls his hands into his bedsheets, lips parting just slightly as you suck firm kisses into his taut abdomen.

“Lay down.” You order, and without question, he obeys by scooting back and laying down flat with his legs still over the edge and bracketing you.

“Lay back for me.” You say sweetly, he obeys. To your right, you find the brown leather belt that you’ve been eyeing. Still looped through his jeans, discarded onto the chair in the corner of the room. Rooster fidgets in front of you, waiting to feel your touch again. “You trust me, right, Rooster?”

“Of course.” He exhales, his answer instant.

You push yourself up and he peeks an eye open, watching you free the belt and turn back towards him. Your smile grows as you find him even more red-faced than before, staring right at you.

“Lift your hands and hold your wrists together for me.”

“Really?” He whispers, his voice thick. You nod sweetly, nodding for him to shift further up the bed. He complies wordlessly, pushing himself to the top of the bed and presenting his wrists for you. His eyes darken and his brows raise, watching you climb up the bed with his belt in your hands.

“Don’t pull too hard, you’ll be sore.” You warn him, looping the belt around his wrists and through the wooden slats in his headboard. He gasps softly as you pull the leather tight and guide it through the buckle.

“Fucking hell…” He breathes out, his voice an excited whisper.

After the soft leather is secured, his wrists fastened to his headboard, you take a minute to sit back and observe. He’s watching you with such abject trust, desperation and excitement all at once. His stomach is quivering with each breath, stretched tight by the way his arms are raised.

Your tongue dips out to wet your bottom lip as your fingers reach for him, walking along the length of his thigh. Leaning over him again, you dip forwards and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to be naked.” Rooster rushes out, shifting uncomfortably and glancing towards his tied hands. When his eyes flicker back to you, he breaks into a bashful smile. Your lips twitch, looking back at him.

“Okay,” You agree sweetly, reaching for the bottom of your t-shirt. He watches the way your eyes darken, filling with mischief as you pull it up just enough to expose the soft skin of your stomach, then hold it there. “You’re at a cruise altitude of 35,000 feet, how do you know how to calculate your descent?”

Three miles per distance per thousand feet in altitude. Your mouth twitches watching him do the math in his head while staring at the sliver of exposed skin under your shirt.

“35,000 minus the last three zeroes — uh, thirty-five. Thirty-five multiplied by three… a hundred and five.” You narrow your eyes quizzically as he stumbles through the math, knowing that it comes more easily to him than he’s able to tell you. You’ve not seen him personally land on a carrier, but you know he can. You know that he’s done it a hundred times over. “You’d start the descent 105 nautical miles from the destination, maintaining a speed of 300 Knots-Indicated air speed… and a descent rate of 1,500 to 2,000 feet per minute, with thrust set at idle.”

You smile back at him, peeling your shirt up and over your head. He exhales, eyes falling down to the black bra covering your tits. Forgetting himself for a moment, he moves to sit, the buckle of his belt knocking into the woods and reminding him of his predicament.

“Feet per minute,” You continue, reaching for your own belt, slipping the leather from the buckle and pausing. “If you land on the carrier right, how does the hornet hit the deck?”

“800 feet per minute.” He exhales. Your mouth twists into a grin as you pop open your belt buckle.

By the time that he has rid you of your clothes, his answers are especially fast and you’ve noticed that his wrists are growing red under the hold of the leather.

Standing on your knees, you crawl your way up your, now completely naked, boyfriend and turn. Straddling his abdomen, your naked core sits just out of his reach. His mouth falls open and a dismayed, needy sound slips out.

Having freed him of his own shorts and boxers just moment before, his cock is red and swollen, angry from the lack of attention. Settling yourself with a sly wiggle of your hips, you take his cock in both of your hands and cover as much as you can with your mouth.

Soaking his length with a generous amount of saliva, you hear his head fall back and hit the headboard as your hands start to stroke him. Long strides coat his shaft in spit, your hands twisting loosely left from right. From this way, the way you’re straddling him, you’ve got a front-row view to the way his thighs have started to tremble.

Furthering his dismay, he has a front-row seat to your soaked pussy, inches from his face, but just out of reach. Your hands are steady, just as calm and skilled as they are when you’re in the cockpit. Not too fast, just guiding him steadily closer to his orgasm. Letting your spit soak him, adding more to the mix, squeezing him firmly every now and again. Craning your neck so that you can lick and suck softly at his balls. His moans are strangled, agonizingly desperate from behind you.

When you finally decide to grace him with a firmer, faster touch, his moans are so jagged and eager that you know Hangman and Coyote must be able to hear him. The heels of his feet press into the mattress, his hips bucking eagerly into your hands.

He tugs hard at his restraints and winces behind you. With each delighted sound from your lips as they’re wrapped around him, his own voice is growing more and more strained. For the life of him, he just can’t keep still. He’s putty in your hands. This wouldn’t be the first time he has made a mess all over your hands, but today, that isn’t the plan.

“Hyde, don’t — please don’t — I’m so fucking close…”

You hum, hands already withdrawn. He writhes under you as you turn to face him.

“You can hold on a little longer for me, right baby?”

His voice is getting more strained as you squeeze your hands around his twitching cock and just as he is about to erupt you retract your hands leaving his chest huffing in frustration and near euphoria.

You shift, straddling his hips. His eyes go wide and round, lips parted as you situate yourself right over him and sink down just barely. Your soaked core just grazes him as you rock back and forth softly. His eyes follow the curve of your waist, the slight movement of your tits as you taunt him.

“Can wait a little longer for me, right?”

“Oh, fuck.” Rooster whimpers.

You lower yourself gently onto him, palms braced against his shivering chest as his tip notches into you. He gasps and turns his head towards the pillow, pulling hard at the restraint.

You lean all the way forwards, your naked tits pushing against his chest, your lips mouthing softly at his neck. “It’s okay, I’m gonna take care of you.”

Finally, he’s fully sheathed into you, and he sighs out in relief, dropping his head forwards to rest against the curve of your shoulders.

“I still wanna see you cum,” He pants out, groaning softly as you lift up and sink slowly back down on him, digging his heels into the mattress. “If I can’t do it, I still wanna see it.”

Your mouth twitches at the thought.

“Yeah, you want to watch me get off?” You grin, kissing across his cheek and finally at his mouth. He whines softly, watching you rocking your hips into his gently, grinding yourself into him.

“You have to stop talking or I’m gonna cum.” He mutters with a stiff shake of his head, his eyes flickering up to you as you giggle above him. You purse your lips and lean forwards, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of his nose and then sit back.

He watches, every muscle in his chest and arms constricting as he watches you sit back on his thighs, all full of him, lifting your fingers and miming a zip across your lips, and then a lock at the corner of your mouth. Finally, even though all of his focus is on trying not to bust, his lips stretch into an amused grin.

You settle back into the rhythm of bouncing on him, bracing one hand back against his thigh as the other dips between your own legs.

The angle is just right, your orgasm ebbs closer but remains just out of reach as he watches helplessly, dazed by the glow of you.

From the first day he saw you, he’d never imagined he would be as lucky as to be at your mercy like this. The thought dawns him and his hips twitch, snapping up to meet yours.

“Christ— wait, slow down, wait— oh, fuck.”

You gasp sharply as he drives himself into you just once more from below before he’s spilling hot and fast into you, groaning and gasping out loud with little regard for who might hear him.

His deep groans are music to your ears as your fingers work feverishly at your clit to keep up. His mouth hangs open, still buried inside of you as he watches you come apart in front of him, your eyes closed and your chest heaving, his name on the tip of your tongue.

Finally, you collapse forwards against his chest, lifting off of him and kissing at his neck.

“Fuck…” He breathes out.

“You feel better?” You whisper, catching your breath as your nails rake along his stomach. He hums in response, kissing softly at your temple.

He sighs in relief as you pull the belt apart and free his wrists, stretching out his arms and rubbing at the reddened skin.

“I can’t stay, Taylor’s getting dropped off home at nine.” You kiss his mouth softly, already starting to push off of his chest. He just groans and rolls onto his front, disgruntled by the idea of not having you in his bed tonight. “I’ll see you tomorrow at six?”

“Right. What should I wear?”

“A little more than you’re wearing now, preferably.”

He chuckles tiredly and considers grabbing his boxers, opting to instead just press his face into his pillow as he listens to you getting dressed again.

“Should I bring them like… a gift or something?”

“It’s a little early for bribery.”

He sighs and sits up swiftly, resting his elbows on his knees, his mouth creasing into a worried frown. “What are we going to do if they don’t like me?”

Really, there’s only one answer; you’d never put him before your kids and he knows that.

Pulling your shirt down over your body, there’s only one thing to do. You lean forwards and kiss his lips tenderly. “They’ll love you.”

Once you convince him to get dressed again, Bradley walks you down to your car. Jake and Coyote say their greetings and goodbyes swiftly and politely, not making you stop for small talk.

Then, as Rooster heads back upstairs with a reddened face and even more reddened wrists, they meet him in the living room, beaming.

”Don’t start.” He groans, trying to dismiss them and head back to his room before the ridicule starts. It’s a little late for that. It’s been a little late for that since they heard Rooster practically crying your name twenty minutes earlier.

As you return home to reunite with your children, you’re greeted with an onslaught of texts about how — to quote — ‘those idiots heard everything’. It should bother you, but the thought of Bradley all red-faced and squirming at their comments just makes you chuckle.

Meeting at a neutral place always seemed like the best option, until you’re sitting in the parking lot, staring at your kids in the backseat — feeling like you’re introducing cats. Well, it has been quite some time since your children got over their interest in scratching and biting, so hopefully this will go smoother than that.

”How are you guys feeling?” You ask them, turning in your seat finally. Dylan can see the worry on your face. Your brows are raised, your eyes are round and fleeting between them each, lips pursed.

”Yeah, fine, mom.” He offers you a polite, sincere smile. It’s the best that he has to give. He knows this means something big to you. He knows that you’ve started singing in the kitchen again, and reading Taylor the stories with the voices, laughing with him until you’re doubled over and crying.

”Do you think he likes cats better or dogs?” Taylor perks up, tucking her feet up onto the seat and quirking her head at you. Your lips twitch as your son rolls his eyes at her.

“You can ask him.” You decide, and she seems to accept this as good enough of an answer. She settles back in her booster seat, crosses her arms across her little knit sweater and smiles back at you. Poor Rooster doesn’t have a clue what he’s in for with this little chatterbox — but you know he’ll be glad to not have to sit in silence.

A beat passes as you look between their faces. They both smile back at you, for different reasons entirely.

“Okay, are we ready to go inside?”

After quick agreement, Taylor watches her shoes cast purple neon shadows across the puddles, flashing bright with each step as your heels clack across the ground ahead of her. A hand lands on her shoulder, guiding her along and making sure that she keeps up.

Swiftly, she looks up at her big brother, frowning curiously at him, ”So, do we have to call him Dad too?”

”Rooster.” You breathe out, lips stretching into a smile as you spot him walking over from his truck. He looks right past you as you wrap your arms around his neck. About five paces back, your kids are trailing you, deep in conversation. About him, no doubt.

Suddenly, his attention snaps back to you, his eyes going wide as you kiss his cheek. He untangles himself from you, aggressively platonic for a man who was begging to hold you yesterday.

“Hi.”

”Don’t be weird, they’re children, not the FBI.” You whisper to him, turning quickly as you hear the two of them approaching this. “Guys, this is Bradley. Bradley, this is my daughter, Taylor, and my son, Dylan.”

”Hello.” Bradley stiffens.

“Hey.” Dylan tries.

“You’re pretty tall. Women like that.” It would seem that you’re all caught off guard by your daughter’s comment. Luckily, it’s just enough of a surprise to make Bradley’s tight-lipped smile break into a wide-stretching grin.

He sits opposite her at the table, Dylan by his side and you opposite Dylan. She spent the afternoon with your mother and it would seem, the two of them spent their time preparing questions.

”So—“ Dylan manages to interrupt, earning himself a stern glare from the little girl who was just about to get into the favourite colours segment of her interview. Bradley turns his head and looks at your son. “What team do you follow?”

Bradley shoots a glance over at you, knowing full well that your son has been raised to be a die hard 49ers fan. He looks back to the thirteen year old and inhales— he can’t pretend to like that team, he just can’t do it—

“The Eagles.” He rushes out.

“Huh.” Dylan quirks an eyebrow, turns his head and shoots you a look. He smirks softly, bringing the rim of his Pepsi glass to his mouth. “And… how’s that working out for ya, big guy?”

Bradley’s mouth falls slack, and he looks quickly across the table for support, finding nothing but you smirking back at him and Taylor giggling in response.

“Hey, buddy, I’ll have you know—“ And once again, that seems to do the trick. That’s the straw, right before the appetizers come out, that gets Bradley really talking, and after that it just doesn’t stop.

Taylor quickly gets him onto the conversation of cats versus dogs — he seems to pass her test. Bradley turns the conversation on you, and winds up grinning ear to ear with the insight of how your children perceive you to be, how they love you. You turn the conversation on Bradley, and reveal to the children that he not only enjoys rum and raisin flavoured ice-cream, but that it’s his favourite.

The betrayal on his face after that one will keep you laughing for weeks to come. It’s almost enough for the children to change their minds about him, but he quickly gets things back on track by revealing that he once met the guy who plays Captain America on a flight.

That wins him some serious brownie points.

You know that, just as easily as he had with you, he had won them over.

He grins at you as he settles the bill — despite your insistence to split it, his nerves seeming to have finally calmed.

“Mom, why do you call him Bradley when his work name is Rooster?” Taylor asks, slipping her hand into you palm as you head for the exit.

“Because we aren’t at work right now.” You answer with a shrug, checking over your shoulder to see Rooster talking with Dylan about something behind you.

“Can I call him Rooster?” She asks, peering up at you.

“If he says you can.”

“Bradley?” She cranes her neck as she calls back to him, capturing his attention instantly. “Can I call you Rooster?”

“Sure. Either works.” He shrugs, tucking his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans, walking to catch up with the two of you.

She looks quickly back up to you, approval plastered across her little face. She gives your hand a quick squeeze and smiles.

…

Tags: @cherrycola27 @mak-32 @khaylin27 @stoncms @shanimallina87 @cool-ultra-nerd @angelmavmurdock @gingerbreadandpaper @mizzzpink @whisperofsong @throwinsauce @perpetuelledaydreaming @n3ssm0nique @thedroneranger @abaker74 @marantha @ghxst-heart @diamond-3 @shawnsblue

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x you #top gun smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

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ddejavvu · 10 months

Note

So I had long hair for the last two year and recently cut it too a 90s lob type thing and I was wondering if you could write one were Jake and reader have eniemes type shit and of course reader has long hair and one day Jake comes to the bar and sees this back of this girl he knows is beautiful she has short hair and he walks up too you and start to filrt with you and you turn around he just star struck on how beautiful you look

If there's one thing you can be sure Jake Seresin will tease you about, it's your hair. You've had it long for years now, and he won't let anyone forget that he was the one to give you your, quite frankly infuriating, callsign; Rapunzel.

Living in close contact with Hangman had meant that a lot of your hair wound up all over his things, stuck to his shirt, woven into his socks after a wash, somehow lining the inside of his own helmet. So he'd donned you Rapunzel as a tease, and it had stuck, much to your dismay.

Now, though, you know you'll never escape the name even though you've chopped off the hair. It had simply been a pain serving with long hair, you'd had trouble tucking it into your helmet every day and the regulation buns never stayed in tact for an entire day. So off the hair went, onto the floor of a salon and swept away into the garbage.

Good Riddance.

"You want a new drink for your new look?" Penny grins, leaning against the bar to stare you down. You won't lie, you see exactly why Maverick is so enamored by her.

"No, thanks. Just the usual," You tuck a stray, very short strand of hair behind your ears, marveling at the feeling of the ends tickling your jaw. It's going to take some getting used to, at the very least.

"Anyone know yet?" She hands you your usual order, and you sip it while shaking your head.

"Nah. Not unless you count the Admiral, I had to stop by his office today."

"Well, it looks adorable. I'm sure they'll all like it." She smiles, patting you on the shoulder as someone calls for her from behind. She leaves you to go attend to them, and you check your phone absentmindedly, careful to keep it off of the bar.

Perhaps if you'd been paying closer attention to your surroundings, you would have registered the heavy steps of Hangman's boots that you hear all day. He stomps around like an elephant, but you don't hear him approach you from behind until he's speaking.

"Well, you must be a new face around here. I'd remember such gorgeous hair."

He's behind you, and your spine stiffens at his voice. His familiar drawl ties your stomach into knots, and you don't know how to stop him before he's doubling down.

"Now, look at that! Your face is just as- ah!" He stops dead in his tracks, eyes switching from sleazy to stunned in a split second when he finally gets a glimpse of you.

"Oh, Hangman," You grumble, "Can't you flirt with someone else?"

"You're- What happened to- I didn't know it was you!" He insists, "I- you cut your hair? Like- like all of it? Just- gone?"

"No," You antagonize him, "It's in my pockets. Yes it's gone, idiot!"

His eyes widen slightly at your admission, like he'd truly believed you'd just put on a wig for the night. But he makes no move to leave, a deep breath slowly fanning out from his nose.

For the first time in your life, you're seeing Hangman speechless. He's staring at you, almost studying you in the way that his wide eyes rake over your features. You're suddenly freaked by the prolonged attention he's never given you before, and you squirm in place.

"Go find someone else to schmooze." You wave a dismissive hand at him, and it seems to break his trance. He still doesn't jump at the opportunity to prowl the bar some more; instead he jumps at the seat beside you.

"I'm alright. 'Think I'll sit tonight out." He informs you, grunting as he settles on the barstool. He pats a quick hand on the par, "Penny, anyone paying the tab tonight?"

"Not unless Y/N puts her phone on the bar," Penny eyes your device with narrowed eyes, and you stuff it into your pocket quickly.

"Damn. Tough luck," He side-eyes you with a grin, "Just a beer, then, please."

No matter how unbearably cocky he is, he's always polite to Penny, and you're sure she appreciates it. That's why she doesn't gripe at his failed flirting attempt with you, merely sending you a knowing glance as she hands him the bottle. What she knows, you're afraid to find out.

"So, just felt like having a lighter cut?" Hangman hums, adam's apple bobbing as he takes a swig of beer.

"Yeah. Tired of stuffing it into my helmet, or having to fix it during an exercise." You shrug, "I'll get used to it."

"I could, too. Looks real nice, honey." He winks, hiding his smirk with another sip of booze. You turn away, schooling your lips into a neutral expression.

"Seems like I should come up with a new name for you, now that you can't really let down your hair." Jake muses, reaching up to tug at a strand by your ear. You swat him away, muscling a grin off of your lips.

"Bob's taken," You snap, "You've done enough, 'already hate Rapunzel as it is."

"Oh, bitch all you want," Jake scoffs, nudging you with his shoulder that you wish were less broad so that you didn't have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop your mouth from falling open, "I know you like it when I call you a princess."

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x y/n #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader

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jungle-angel · 11 months

Text

Even More Summer Vacation Prompts

Sorry guys, it’s that time of the year again, I’m really bored and wanna do alot more writing than I’ve been doing. Please, by all means, send in requests, come chat, send in a blurb, something, anything!!!! Currently taking requests for Top Gun Maverick, Outer Range, Bad Times At The El Royale, Salem’s Lot, Catch 22 (Hulu) and Press Play.

1. Traveling with the gang and or the kids

2. Where are they going?

3. Staying with a family member while on vacation

4. “My God I don’t think I wanna leave the hotel” (leads to smut)

5. Sex on the beach (smut)

6. “The baby has so much sunscreen on that it looks like Kabuki makeup”

7. “I’m so sunburned right now it’s not even funny”

8. Their s.o being pregnant and going for a swim in the ocean

9. “You should have been a sand castle building champion”

10. “I love you, but the idea of swimming with sharks is making me a little bit squeamish”

11. Swimming with dolphins/manatees in Florida

12. Teaching the babies how to surf for the first time

13. “Say what you want about Florida, but the Key Lime pie is to die for!”

14. Dancing outside of a street café

15. Riding horses through the ocean

16. Margaritas at the hotel/resort pool

17. “Babe, look out, the baby’s herding the sea turtles again”

18. Deep sea fishing

19. Catching a video of a wild shark chase during feeding hours

20. Boat/jet-ski rides

21. “Leave your sandals and your cares at the door”

22. Enjoying the morning coffee on the porch of the beach house/cottage

23. Communal dinner at the home of the family member they’re staying with

24. Chasing and teasing their s.o with the sunscreen

25. Beach massage

26. Scuba diving on pirate wrecks

27. Cooking dinner right on the beach

28. Homemade popsicles

29. Finding seashells, sand dollars and mermaids’ purses on the beach

30. Manta rays/swimming with manta rays

31. Showing the babies how to use a conch shell as a horn

32. Canoeing/kayaking on the ocean

33. A homemade swing on a palm tree

34. “It’s our own little secret spot, nobody knows we’re here”

35. Beach date

36. “You’ve been listening to the Moana soundtrack ever since we left the airport”

37. “Here be mermaids”

38. The gang wearing plastic shark fins on their heads at the hotel pool and playing the JAWS theme to scare troublemakers and or snobs

39. Playing games on the beach

40. “Screw it, my ass is in a beach chair, I’m not moving and nobody can tell me otherwise!”

41. Wild parties on the beach

42. The one in the group that everybody thinks is the old fart, showing off their bartending skills at the pool bar

43. What’s on the menu??

44. Staying at the Atlantis resort and hotel

45. Beach bonfire and playing their favorite songs on a ukulele

46. Plane ride

47. Their kid(s) naming the little hermit crabs

48. Walking on the beach under the full moon and the water seems to be glowing

49. Beach picnics

50. Bubble bath at the hotel

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ohtobeleah · 9 months

Text

Bruises // Jake Seresin

Chapter Two: [Tactile Takedown]

Summary: When a missile is headed right for Roosters F-18, Jake makes a decision that could end up costing you your life.

Series Warnings: Heavy themes of violence, sexual assault, torture. 18+ content. Minors DNI. Mature themes. Being held in captivity. Hostage style situation. Main character death! Whump, Angst. Conversations that discuss antisocial & antisemitism views.

Word Count: 4.4k

Author Note: THIS SERIES IS CONFRONTING, FICTIONAL, AND DEPICTS IMAGES OF TORTURE. DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT IF YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS SERIES WILL BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR MENTAL STABILITY. CURATE YOUR OWN TIMELINE.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Tuesday - April 18th 2023. D-day.

“How you doing back there Hollywood?” Jake asked as you settled into a steady climb, You’d just taken off from the carrier that had taken you out into the middle of nowhere to complete a mission that seemed somewhat impossible. But you were told these guys were the best of the best, that they don't get any better than the Daggers. An elite group of Naval Aviators who had completed some of the most insane covert operations you'd been blessed to read about. “How's my radar looking?”

And now? Well–now you were one of them.

“Radars clean Hangman.” You confirmed all the while trying to calm the pit of nervousness in your stomach. “Recommend increasing to three hundred knots, you've got Dagger Two approaching at around ten o'clock closure.”

“Confirmed.” Jake replied as he pushed up on his throttle, it sent your head into the back of your chair a little from the force of gravity changing around you. “Increasing speed, Rooster you still with me?” It was just the three of you, Rooster, Hangman and yourself. A small yet tactile team of experienced and highly trained naval aviators sent it to disable a rogue insurgent group that was making far too much noise for the United States navy to ignore.

The mission? Dismantle what Nav-Con believed to be one of the two main insurgent camps situated in the middle of a communication desert. With one highly explosive missile and two of the best air to air combat pilots the navy had ever seen, you were tasked with getting in through a valley that had been similar terrain to a mission Bradley had flown a few years prior.

That was why he was chosen. Experience.

Jake Seresin had a reputation, he was the Hangman. He had two confirmed air to air kills and wouldn't lose sleep over a third of forth. From what you could gather since being assigned as his weapons system officer, Jake took risks. Risks that paid off well. He was highly skilled and that somewhat egomaniacal belief that he was a god given gift to aviation made it easier to pull through with such risks.

That was why he was chosen. Taktical ability to compartmentalise.

But Jake Seresin had a fault. He had a single thread loose that if pulled could undo all that male bravado. He cared, deep down, about his squadron. His colleagues had become more like family than anything. He couldn't turn that blind eye that was so necessary to have if this mission were to fail.

And that's why you were brought in. Why you were chosen for such a dangerous mission. You would have been easier to lose against Robert Floyd or Mickey Garcia and the Admirals all knew it. Jake didn't know you. You were a pivotal part of the mission design, a means to an end if necessary.

You were simply expendable:

From the Admirals who had tasked Bradley and Jake with this mission to Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell, they all knew that if it were Bob or Fanboy sitting in Jake's WSO seat, he wouldn’t take so many risks. And for once–they needed him to take risks. To not think and just do.

“I'm right behind you, Hangman.” Bradleys voice came through the comms as clear as day. He was taling right behind Jake. “We’re looking good so far.”

“Better not have just jinxed us Bradshaw.” Jake sighed as he made a small turn right, heading down into the canyon below. “We get in, we get out and we go home.”

You had spent the last month revising the mission, sitting in hour long debrief sessions with Rooster and Hangman to go over critical points of the mission. You knew they were close, but there was an underlying sort of animosity you couldn't quite figure out.

And that's why they were both chosen for this mission together. There would be no love lost between the two.

“Still nothing up ahead on radar Hangman.” You spoke firmly with enough conviction in your voice to cover up the fact your heart was racing a million miles an hour. You never thought in your wildest dream you'd make it to TopGun and then further, a specialist unit. But this was not the time to doubt your ability. “All systems go back here, max ceiling is three hundred feet if you wanna keep out of line of sight.”

“Aye aye Hollywood.” Jake had never flown with a weapons system officer before. This was his first mission with one. When he’d been called into Admiral Simpson's office one random Thursday afternoon before finishing for the day–He thought for sure he was about to have his ass handed to him for something he’d surely done.

“Hangman.” Admiral Simpson stood at his desk to greet the aviator who looked a little green around the gill upon first entry. He gestured for the flight suit clad, broad shouldered man to sit in the empty seat beside you. “I'd like you to meet Lieutenant Y/N “Hollywood” Y/L/N, she’ll be joining us here for the foreseeable future.” Jake listened as he sat down beside you.

Without hesitation he sent you a strong smile that took up the entire expanse of his face, completely intoxicating and undeniably hollywood.

“It's nice to see some fresh meat around here, keep the competition guessing.” Jake chuckled as he extended his hand to shake yours. “I'm Lieutenant Seresin, Jake.” He was all confidence and cocky ego until you touched his hand, until your hand shook his back in a friendly gesture. Jake wasn't going to pretend that he didn't feel that sharp spark, that jolt of energy, that lighting strike that ignited his skin when you touched him. “But everyone calls me Hangman.”

“Hollywood here is actually joining us as a WSO Seresin.” Admiral Simpson explained as he let his elbows rest against the old oak desk that put some distance between where he sat and where Jake sat, completely unaware that your presence in North Island was about to completely change the trajectory of his career. “She’ll be your WSO.”

“I’m sorry–” Jake retracted his hand from yours as he shot Admiral Simpson a look, he had previously warned you of this reaction, so you chose to remain silent. Taking in your surroundings and observing Hangman's emotions. It was your job to be observant after all. “Since when do I fly with a WSO? I've never flown doubles before and I don't intend to start now.” Jake argued before he turned back to where you sat. “No offence sunshine, I'm sure you’re great and all, it’s just I don't particularly play well with others.”

“I'm more of a midnight rain kinda girl.” All you did was eye him off with an emotionless expression. Jake didn’t appreciate your tone, he did however appreciate the way your eyes nearly sparkled in the warm afternoon sun that came beaming through the window of Admiral Simpson's office. “I’m not too over the moon about working with you either.” It was a dig. “With a callsign as transparent as Hangman I’m sure I’m in great hands.”

“And I’m sure Hollywood has some outstanding depth to it.” Jake was quick on his feet with his comeback before he frowned a little more and turned his attention back to Admiral Simpson. “Why not Bradshaw?” He groaned, seemingly unimpressed by the decision to dump a WSO on him after years of flying solo. “He doesn’t have a WSO, or Coyote!”

It was then that Admiral Simpson pulled out a cream coloured file from his desk draw and slid it across his desk. He let out a sigh that told you someone wasn’t coming back from this one.

“Because we need it to be you.”

“Approach the canyon entrance with caution.” You directed from behind as you watched the Radar closely. “Remember, we only engage if absolutely necessary.”

“Once we’re in we make this quick.” Rooster spoke firmly, he had been a little hesitant to accept this detachment knowing its risk to reward ratio. But he’d been promised a shore leave after this. A well deserved vacation. “Let’s get to work.”

“Copy, heading into Risk Range now.” That was the name on the cream folder Admiral Simpson had passed you and Hangman on day one. Risk Range. Because once you were in there was no way of pulling you out. It was risky, and a mountain range that expanded as far as the eye could see. “Hollywood, have that laser guide ready for me.”

“On it.” It was like they knew you were coming, because as your radar began flashing with approaching enemy aircraft you knew immediately that they knew. It was a gut instinct.

“Rooster evade left! Hangman break right, we’ve got company.” Jake didn’t waste a second of time reacting accordingly. He broke right as Rooster tailed off. It was the very definition of an ambush, cold calculated and premeditated. “Jake!”

“Hangman on your left!” Rooster's voice came through panicked on the comms as Jake did his best to avoid the enemy aircraft that had seemingly come out of thin air: stealth pilots. Trained to be completely unseen until they wanted you to see them. “Break left!”

“Breaking left!” You twisted and turned and left fingerprints on the canopy as you tried your best to get a better visual. It was madness, pure madness. One two three six how many were there? “Come on, talk to me Hollywood, tell me what you see!” As Jake asked you what you saw you felt your heart pounding inside your chest as you saw a single missile. With wide eyes and panic racing through your veins, you spun around.

“Smoke in the air! Smoke in the air! Six o’clock Hangman break right!”

“Deploying flares!” It was only by the skin of what felt like his nose that Jake was able to avoid a direct hit. These guys were ruthless, where one was evaded another would pop up. “Rooster, talk to me man where you at?”

“I’m here! Hollywood, tell me what you see!” You could have sworn the next few seconds played out like a three hour long Christopher Nolan movie. Time stood still as Jake turned around to expose the full scene playing out on the big screen. A surface to air missile was aiming right for Bradley Bradshaw.

“Jake—“ It was a mumble, a murmur even. It threw a spanner in the cogs of this well oiled detachment you thought you knew everything about. Every angle, every concept, every reason why the three of you were specifically chosen. Because as Jake made a decision that would send the F-18 the two of you found yourselves to be in into the side of a mountain range, you realised there would be love lost, a hell of a lot of love lost if anything happened to Rooster. Bradley Bradshaw was Jake Seresin wingman, period. “It's on him.”

“Not if I can help it.” Jake mumbled under his breath as he swung around and headed straight for where Rooster was.

“Banit coming in hot on your tail Rooster, break right!” It was your confirmation that you were all in, every decision Jake made in the sky affected you and vice versa. There was nowhere to run, not here in this mess. “Jake, deploy flares!”

“Deploying flares!” It was only the smallest of miscalculations that caused it. If Jake had deployed his flares just three seconds prior, then perhaps you wouldn't have been hit. Perhaps you would have been able to save Rooster without sacrificing your own safety. Perhaps if Jake had deployed his flares just three seconds earlier, then the missile that hit the tail end of your F-18 with such force, that it blew the ass end right off the aircraft, wouldn't have knocked you out from the impact.

The explosion was the last thing you heard. The warmth of the fire that kissed your skin was the last thing you felt before everything was cold again. So cold. So cold that it almost burned.

“Y/n!” Jake shouted with a panic in his tone of voice as he shook you softly. “Hollywood! Wake up!” There was blood dripping from your nose, a sign Jake wasn't too keen on but other than that? He couldn’t see any other physical injuries. You still had both arms and legs. “Lieutenant Y/L/N wake up!” It was all so muffled, like you were under water, you could hear Jake calling your name, you could feel him shaking your body, but you couldn't talk, couldn't open your eyes. Until you did, slowly and with a groan. “Oh thank god.” It was the first thing you heard Jake say clearly without the muffled understone. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“What happened?” You asked softly as you tried to sit up. “Where are we?” Jake could recognise the panic taking over your being as he kneeled beside you, helping you to sit up with a groan. He noticed the way you held your ribs on the right side of your body, most likely bruised at the very least from the impact of your parachute deploying. “What happened?”

“We got shot down.” Jake said the four words no aviator ever wanted to hear. “You blacked out on impact.” He explained tentatively, not wanting to scare you any more than you already were. “I pulled your chute.”

“Rooster! Head back to the carrier, abort the mission!” It was the last thing Jake could communicate to his wingman before he lost his radio. The fighter jet was totaled, there was no saving it.

“Hollywood we gotta go! Punch out!” Jake shouted over the warning signals that blared in the cockpit as he spun out of control. There was no worse feeling than burning in. He hadnt experienced it often, only once before–but it still felt the same if not worse than that last time. “Y/n?” When you didn't respond Jake knew something was wrong, as he turned to look behind him he saw you slumped forward and unresponsive. “Dammit Hollywood!” Jake did the only thing he could think of that would help you– he reached over and pulled at the yellow and black ejection handle between your legs.

Almost immediately the canopy went flying as you shot out of the fighter jet. Jake saw your chute deploy–relief flooded his system before he pulled his own ejection handle. It sent him flying high into the sky at the speed of light. He just prayed when he hit the ground he’d be able to find you alive and well.

The time between the moment Jake hit the snow covered ground below to the moment he found you lying between the trees was far too long. He ditched his chute and ran and ran and ran until he was at your side. But there wasn't a mountain he wouldn't climb to reach you. That much was true. You were his WSO. His responsibility.

“Rooster?” You asked as it all came racing back. “Did he–?” You didn't even need to finish your sentence before Jake was giving you some sort of peace of mind.

“As far as I know he turned back to the carrier after we got hit. I haven't seen him doing any flyovers.” Jake explained softly as he assessed your current state. “How many fingers am I holding up?” You watched as Jake held his hand up in front of your face and moved it side to side. You followed his every move.

“Two.” You said confidently, still sitting in the snow. “I'm fine, promise, just a little bruised.”

“You think you can walk?” Jake was helping you to your feet before you even gave him a response. “I'm sorry you're in this mess with me, it's just–” It was your turn to interrupt as Jake wrapped your arm around his shoulders to help you stand. If you had seen him demonstrate this kind of behaviour three days ago you would have sworn black and blue you were dreaming, or that some fictitious creature from another realm had replaced the Jake Seresin you’d been flying with for the past few weeks. But after seeing his harrowing attapet to save his wingman's life without a single second of hesitation, you knew Jake actually cared about the people around him.

“It's fine.” You hissed as you took your first guided steps on wobbly legs after falling out of the sky. “You were protecting your wingman, I would have done the same thing.” Jake had a pretty nasty gash on the side of his head from when he’d landed pretty ungracefully. The side of his helmet cut into his temple on impact. “But now we’re down here, with no backup.”

“E-stats are still working.” Jake reminded you as he continued to help you further into the woods, hoping that it could break the chill of the raging wind. “They’ll see us, hopefully, if we just stay put surely the carrier will be able to track our location.” You knew right then and there that Jake was bluffing, you were smack bang in a communication desert.

“Hangman–” You sighed as he helped you sit down against a rock that was further in, Jake didn't miss the way you squinted as you did so, still holding your ribcage like something was wrong. “I don't think anyone will come back for us.” You did your best to try and block out the pain radiating whenever you took a breath in. “It would make more noise than they want to make.”

“You don't know my squad Hollywood.” Jake smirked as he shook his head slightly with a chuckle. He was right, you didn't know the lengths they’d all go to for each other. Jake reached out to cup your cheeks softly, the pad of his thumb swiped at the blood that had dripped down from your nose. “Someone will come, we just gotta get comfy till then.” There was a moment of silence that passed as Jake really took a moment to drink in your features. Even through all the snow and all the worry your eyes still sparkled the same way they did when he first met you in Admiral Simpson's office. “Your ribs? You think they’re broken?”

“Probably just bruised from the impact.” You replied, lost in your own mind as you stared at Jake’s features. From his eyebrows to his emerald green eyes that you swore swirled with desire. Everything was perfect, even the dusting of that five o’clock shadow that was threatening to expose his not so clean cut navy aesthetic.

“Can I have a look?” You missed the feeling of Jake's hand on your cheek the minute he was gone and had pulled away. You couldn't help but to chuckle as you compiled and started undoing your flight suit.

“You trying to cop a feel Seresin?”

“Would that be the worst thing in the world?” He teased back almost too quickly to not have already been on his mind. Jake was as careful as he could be when you had undone your flight suit enough to expose your black under shirt. He watched as you lifted up the cotton fabric enough so that he could press his palm softly against where your ribs were killing. His heart broke when you whimpered, he knew you were holding back as much as you could. “I know why they call you Hollywood, you know.” Jake thought a distraction from the pain and the situation in general would be good. He kept pressing his fingers around your side trying to see if he could feel anything unusual. He knew it hurt like hell, but when your eyes met his as he looked up at you from where he was kenaling beside you–he hoped the distraction helped.

“Oh yeah?” Jake could hear the pain in your voice as you tried to breathe through his poking and prodding. “What's the consensus?” You groaned through gritted teeth as tears threatened to spill down your cheeks.

“Your dads Rick Neven.” Jake concluded as he finished up his examination. “I thought maybe you were some childhood hollywood hotshot at first but then I overheard Mav telling Mando that you looked just like him.” Jake paused for a moment, reading the terrain of your reaction—when you didn’t totally annihilate him for figuring it out, he pressed on. “You don’t like people knowing you’re practically Navy Royalty, hence your mums maiden name.” He shrugged all the while you worked to fix your flight suit up. “And just like you said, just bruised, not breaks.”

It was hard to believe the same man who hadn’t really looked in your general direction for the better half of the time you knew him was paying this much attention to you now. But then again, he had been the one who got you into this mess in the first place. If you were gonna play the blame game.

“Guess there was some depth to it after all huh?” You referred back to the very beginning, to when you had first met Jake. He smiled at you with that golden boy grin that took over the entire expanse of his face.

“Yeah, yeah I guess there was.” Jake knew just by flying with you, albeit reluctantly, these past few weeks, that you were an extraordinary weapons systems officer. You knew your stuff as well as he knew his shit and together you actually made a pretty decent team. He’d been wrong about you personally though. He kept his distance knowing you were only supposed to be around for this particular detachment then you were off again. There was no real reason to get to know you when you'd be gone in the blink of an eye. But oh how Jake was kicking himself for that thought process. Because now here he was, stuck in the middle of nowhere with the very same WSO he’d been actively trying to not get to know. Something told him though the pair of you were going to have a hell of a lot of time to get to know one another. “The sun's starting to set, we should probably find somewhere to spend the night, maybe make a fire.” Jake looked around, trying to see if there was a place in eyesight where the two of you could make camp for the night. It wasn't ideal, but what else was there to do?

“Yeah–yeah that's probably–” Before you could finish your sentence you heard the unmistakable sound of tree branches being crushed under the weight of footsteps. You spun around to see what was behind you and your heart sank into your stomach.

Insurgents, pointing guns directly at you and Jake.

“Jake.” You whispered as you stood slowly, they didn't make any attempt to move from their positionings. Crouched behind rocks, trees and some were just out in the open. They were everywhere. Surrounding the both of you so that there was no way out.

“Get behind me.” It was the only thing Jake could think about, protecting you. He got you into this mess and he was sure as hell going to get you out of it. He ushered you behind him, making sure to keep turning periodically to look at all angles, wondering if there was by chance a way out of this. “Listen to me, you say nothing, you hear me?” Jake reminded you as he assessed how many you were outnumbered by. “No matter what you don't say anything.”

You’d seen movies before, what could happen to a woman held as a prisoner of war. You couldn’t help it when your mind went straight to that awful place.

“Jake, don't let them take me away from you.” It was the worst situation Jake had ever found himself in. “Please—don’t let them.” You begged as tears streamed down your face. You fisted at the back of Jake's flight gear he had yet to take off. Holding him as close to you as you possibly could. You were beyond terrified.

“Put your hands where I can see them!” One of the insurgents shouted as he stepped closer, still aiming his assault weapon directly at the two of you. “Don’t make any sudden movements besides raising your hands above your head.”

He was wearing all black clothes, they all were. Against the white of the snow it made them stand out like sore thumbs. But they did well enough to cover their faces. No identities were exposed besides your own and Jakes.

“I want your word that you won’t hurt her.” Jake growled as he began to raise his arms around his head. Palms facing out. You didn’t dare to move as Jake felt you balling his uniform in your hands a little tighter. “Don’t you touch her.” Jake had his attention drawn to the insurgent in front of him all the while you had your face buried between his shoulder blades—trying to shelter yourself from this hellscape. “Touch her and I swear I’ll kill you all.”

“Lieutenant, I highly doubt you're an incompetent man, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt when I remind you that you have absolutely no authority or power whatsoever in this situation.” The insurgent snickered as he approached closer. “Take the girl.” He tilted his chin in the direction of his men standing off to the side. Before you could react, they were on you.

“JAKE!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as one of them wrapped their arms around your waist and pulled you away harshly—Jake felt your hands slip from the Normex of his flight suit as he spun around to try and grab your wrist.

“Don’t touch her!” Jake warned again.

“No! No! Stop please—PLEASE!” Jake hated your pleas, your screams would forever haunt his heart. His fingers grazed yours as he whipped around to reach for you. “LET ME GO! GET OFF OF ME!”

“I SAID DONT TOUCH—“ Before Jake could finish his sentence he was in the ground lying in the snow face down. The insurgent making the orders had hit him over the back of the head with his gun. It was enough to make you stop struggling, enough to make you stop resisting.

There was a moment where you just stood there in the detainment of insurgents, taking in everything that was happening. Just how were you going to survive this? This wasn’t in the mission parameters.

“Get them to the truck, before we lose any more light.” The insurgent ordered before he turned around, shouting over his shoulder at his men. Jake lying out cold in the snow was the last thing you saw before it all went black. You felt a pinch at the side of your neck before everything went black and your knees gave in.

“Keep them alive, for now.” It was the last thing you heard before everything went numb. “I want answers.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Tags 🏷️ @americaarse @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh @athenabarnes @imaginecrushes @whyareallnamesgone @mjmaximoffbarnes @amiets2 @mads-weasley @gabbyella @ephemeralninon @xoxabs88xox @pedrohoe04 @starkleila @je-suis-prest-rachel @clancycucumber230 @maisie-rebloging-blog @callsign-barbell @obiwankenobis-lap @some-lovely-day @paperbag333 @callsign-magnolia @jhiddles03 @hardballoonlove @shanimallina87 @seitmai @abaker74 @missemrose @starset21 @kmc1989 @phoenix1388 @emma8895eb

#bruises // jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #Jake Seresin Whump #jake hangman x y/n #jake hangman imagine #top gun hangman

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simpforrooster · 1 year

Text

do you want me to lie, sir?

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x f!mitchell reader

Summary: hangman is the only guy your father would loathe to see you with. you successfully hide your relationship with him. until you don’t.

t/w: some light smut ahead. nothing graphic. 18+only plz.

a/n: this is from an anon request from *too* long ago. I’m sorry!!! took an unplanned month off, but felt inspired tonight. hope you enjoy!

No one knows you and Jake are dating.

Especially not your father, who was Jake’s captain.

God, Maverick would lose his shit if he knew Hangman finally wore you down.

If your dad didn’t see a lot of his younger self in the blonde aviator, you’re not sure he’d even care who you dated. Mav would go to the ends of the Earth to protect you, and he certainly hasn’t forgotten how he was at Hangman’s age.

Your phone vibrates on Jake’s nightstand pulling you away from his intoxicating kissing.

“Snooze it,” he murmurs, placing slow, agonizing kisses along your neck. This elicits a soft moan from you, and his mouth flicks up in the corner.

The alarm is set to ensure you slip out of Jake’s room undetected before anyone starts patrolling the halls.

Jake reaches over to the wooden table and grabs your phone. Hitting the snooze button, he practically chucks it across the room.

“Jake!” you scold, your voice a little above a whisper.

He’s nuzzling your neck again. “I’ll buy you another one if it’s cracked. I just want your undivided attention.” His hands reach low on your hips, pulling you onto his lap. The way he’s practically begging for you, your phone is immediately forgotten.

He rests against the headboard, lazily rubbing his thumbs on your thighs. Taking you in, sitting on top of him like this, he literally has hearts in his eyes.

You bring your forehead against his and breathe him in. It took a loooooong time to finally give into him, and now that you have, he’s like an addiction.

Your eyes fall closed, just soaking in the fact that this man is yours. This man who always has girls stop and gawk at him. This man who never notices those gawking girls. This man who only ever has eyes for you.

“Hey,” he says, pulling you from the inside of your mind.

“Yeah?” you breathe, letting your eyes open to meet his.

“I love you.”

Your mind falls blank, rebooting after hearing these words come from the mouth of the dagger squad’s playboy.

You answer him by knotting your fingers in that blonde hair and pulling him to you. He immediately takes control of the kiss, turning his head to deepen the kiss. When his tongue runs along your bottom lip, you waste no time granting him access.

“Baby,” he whispers against kisses, the term of endearment heating you up just as much as his kissing. Your hands find the bottom of his white shirt, and life up. Jake pulls away just long enough to get the shirt over his head. He uses this to move his kisses along your jaw, and down your neck. Your head falls back, granting him more access to plant those kisses where he knows you love most. His hand slips under your top. He doesn’t go higher than your naval, deciding to slide that hand along your waist to pull you flush against his body.

He’s making you feel so good, and you never want this feeling to stop. You haven’t given into him totally yet, at the confusion of Phoenix, who figured Jake would have charmed you into sleeping with him before now.

And it wasn’t that you haven’t wanted to. The part of you that loves fairy tales and romances has been waiting for the perfect time. A drunken romp in the sack coming in from the Hard Deck wasn’t how you wanted your first time with Jake to go.

“I want you, y/n,” Jake says into your ear. The sentence is laced with desperation. You met his smoldering blue eyes and you know, this is it. Your fairy tale moment.

“I’m yours, Jake.”

Jake lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding and crashes his lips against yours. His kisses are a sweet mix of urgent and loving. His hands are back underneath your top, but this time, he keeps going until the shirt is on the floor next to his.

He breaks the kiss to sit back and look at you. As his eyes drink you in, you can’t help but feel a little self conscious. Jake immediately picks up on your body language and grabs your chin, lightly forcing you to look at him.

“Stop,” he breathes, “you’re beautiful.”

Leaning down to kiss him, a knock on his door causes the two of you to shoot apart.

“Lieutenant! Have you seen y/n around? Her car is still here, but I can’t find her.”

The two of you share a look of horror. Pete Mitchell is on the other side of that door. Looking for you. His perfect daughter whom he definitely doesn’t want with Hangman.

“One second, sir!” He calls, untangling his legs from yours and falling chest first onto the ground trying to put his shirt back on. His erection is prominent through the sweatpants he threw on after you snuck in earlier in the night.

“Are you okay in there?” Mav asks through the door, obviously concerned about all the mayhem happening as you struggle to calm yourself down and get dressed.

“Yes, sir!” He calls. “It’s all good.”

Jake opens the door, taking up the entire threshold so Mav can’t see into the room. You can’t see your dad, but you know that he knows he interrupted something. You can practically picture the looks he’s giving Jake. Something in between approval and disapproval at the fact that Jake has successfully snuck a girl in and was about to get lucky.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. Coyote said he saw you and Y/n talking earlier. Thought you may know where she’s gone off to.”

“Hmm. No sir. I haven’t seen her since turning in for the evening,” Jake lies effortlessly.

“Okay, well thanks anyway. I’ve been trying to call her, but she won’t pick up.” The glow of his phone might as well be the Hollywood sign as he looks for your contact.

You spot your phone. Right on the ground to Jake’s left. Jake is still blocking the threshold, holding his breath. His body is rigid, his grip on the doorframe enough to pull it clean off the wall. He’s spotted your phone too.

As it buzzes on the ground, you watch your dad end the call and pocket the phone. Your phone stops creating an earthquake almost immediately.

“Lieutenant,” he says, scary enough to scare the hair off a bear. “Please tell me my little girl isn't here.”

“Would you like me to lie, sir?” He asks, a little bit of his arrogance coming through his words.

“I think that would be best.” His tone matches Jake’s.

“Y/N isn’t here.”

“That isn’t her phone?”

“No, sir.”

Your two favorite men stare each other down, waiting for the other to make a move.

“Oh, there’s my phone!” You say, making your presence known. Scooping up your phone, which thankfully was in one piece, you face your father. His jaw works back and forth, his eyes silently pleading with you to confirm this wasn’t real.

“Are you here to walk me to my car? I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten,” you say sweetly, batting your eyelashes for good measure. Ducking under Jake’s arm, you reach for your Mav’s arm, looping yours with it. You not-so-stealthily tug on it, getting him further away from Jake before he can decide to hit him or something crazy.

He walks with you down the hall. Turning over your shoulder, you send Jake a wink that says you’ll call him.

“Hangman?” Your dad croaks out.

You pat his arm. “We can talk about it tomorrow, Pops."

masterlist

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