#tgm imagine

[petcr3]

don't shed no tears | bradley bradshaw x reader

summary: you have a terrible day. bradley has a plan.

word count: 845

warnings: bradley calls the reader my girl, this one is very short lol!

You almost hold it together. 

Really, you almost do.

But your work day seemed determined never to end. Each time you thought you’d gotten on top of what you needed to do, there was a new fire to put out. It was as if everything that could have gone wrong did, and just about everyone you encountered during your day was in a foul mood. 

Even so, you had pushed through frustration after frustration, and finally made it home. It’s your day off tomorrow and you get to spend the rest of your night with your boyfriend. Things are looking up.

Any other day, you would have laughed it off. But when you finally let yourself plop down on the couch that’s flush with your living room wall and bang your head, the dam just breaks. 

The sound of a particularly forceful “motherfucker!” sends Bradley bolting downstairs, and when he sees you crouched forward, your face in your hands, he’s on his knees in front of you in seconds.

“Honey? What happened, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” you say miserably.

“You don’t sound fine.” You don’t respond for a moment. The rough pad of his thumb wipes a wayward tear from your cheek. “You’re crying, hun.”

“I’m fine,” you repeat, voice wavering, “I just hit my head.”

“You hit your head?” You want to curl up and wither away. This is so embarrassing. It’s only the worry in his voice that makes you look up.

“Not hard. I just clonked it when I sat down. I’m… I had a really bad day. I’m sorry.” 

“Hey,” he says softly, “don’t apologize. Not your fault you had a bad day. C’mere.” Bradley leans forward, still kneeling in front of you, and wraps you in his arms. You sag into his embrace, and tears begin to darken the fabric of his sweatshirt. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. A little sob works its way out of your chest.

“Not–– not really.” You feel Bradley’s mustache before his lips as he turns to press a kiss to your temple.

“That’s okay,” he coos, “It’s okay.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then: “I have an idea.” 

You aren’t particularly pleased when he gets up, but you don’t have it in you to complain. His footfalls are quiet on the carpet as he pads over to the record player and starts fiddling around.

“What are you doing?” you hazard after a moment.

“I can’t tell you,” he says. “Just hang on a second–– this is gonna be romantic as shit.” You let out a little giggle through your tears, and he grins over his shoulder at you. Leave it to Bradley to make you laugh when all you want to do is crawl into a hole and never come out.

A little flash of blue catches your eye as he finds whatever album he’s been searching for, but you don’t get a good enough look to suss out what it is. Finally, he drops the needle, and you hear the opening notes of No Woman No Cry. The organ plays softly, and you sniffle as a fresh wave of tears hits you. Bradley holds out his hand. 

“Dance with me?” You wipe your eyes and nod, shuffling into his arms. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and draws you in, settling you against his chest with a hand at the nape of your neck. Relief floods through you at the warmth of his touch, the slow and comforting beat of the music, the sway of your bodies.

“I love you,” you mumble into his chest.

“I love you too, baby. I’m sorry you had a bad day.”

“It’s much better now.” That makes him smile. The rest of the song plays out to comfortable silence as you rock back and forth together. It’s a longer cut–– the live version Bradley is playing is a little more than seven minutes–– and eventually, you find that you’re cried out. As the song ends and the crowd on the recording begins to cheer, you tilt your chin up to look at him.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Hey, anything to see my girl smile.” And you do, tilting your head down bashfully. 

As the cheers fade, the next song on the record begins to play and the plucky guitar of Could You Be Loved fills the room. Unable to help himself, Bradley begins to bob along with the rhythm. He withdraws a little from the embrace and takes your hands, bouncing your arms back and forth. You feign a pout, but it’s useless. As usual, Bradley Bradshaw is sunshine, fending off the gathering clouds until all you can see is him. You relent and begin to match his movements and he breaks into a beautiful, enormous grin.

As you dance late into the night, you remember that this is what it’s all about. That no matter how awful your day is, you have someone to come home to that knows, without fail, how to lift you up.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #top gun maverick imagine #tgm imagine #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster x you

[waklman]

Glue Song (Pt. 1)

summary: jake tries to keep your existence out of rooster’s knowledge. (friends to lovers, pining)

pairing: jake seresin x female reader

warnings: negative self talk

a/n: haven’t wrote in awhile but glue song by beabadoobee and tgm brought me back...ugh i can't i love pining jake.

word count: 2.5k

next part

“I respect the guy, but he is out of his damn mind.” You watch as Jake momentarily pauses his rambling to take another chug of the latte you brewed for him. 

“Maverick must’ve hit his head while landing during the last mission. Yeah, that must be why.” he concludes, almost entertaining himself, imagining all the ways the old guy could have begun to lose his sanity.

If Jake wasn’t so annoyed, he would have laughed at the made up scenarios playing out in his head. And of course, voicing them to you afterwards so you could laugh with him.

Noticing that some of the neatly decorated whip cream from his drink had found a new home on his freshly shaved face, you wet your hands in the sink and mindlessly reached over the kitchen island to wipe at his sticky chin. 

He blinks back at you, the annoyed expression on his face faltering at your touch.

“There was whip cream on your face. You hate when things get on your skin.” you carefully whisper, pulling your hands back to begin cleaning the dishes again. 

Worry began to brew in your stomach, you might’ve crossed a boundary. 

After processing what happens, Jake just hums, pursing his lips at you in thanks.

Your body unravels at the notion, the tense muscles of your shoulders relaxing itself.

Jake watches you intently, eyes scanning over every detail of you. 

There is a beat of silence as you two acknowledge each other. Your eyes meet in silent conversation. So touching Jake’s face was allowed, you two had agreed without having to say a thing to each other. 

As if nothing happened, Jake regains his posture and furrows his eyebrows together once more, signaling that he’s ready to continue his stream of complaints–this becoming a new routine for you two on weekends where you are both off from work. 

You couldn’t help but to smile to yourself in moments like these. Moving to San Francisco on your own was not an easy decision. Stability has always been something you craved, even if it meant not putting yourself first. But it quickly wore you out with time. You had a job you were unhappy with, shitty friends who you had kept around for the sake of having a social life, essentially trading in your sanity for the sake of stability. The knowledge that this might be how your life would span out, left you disoriented. 

That one fateful summer was when you had decided it was time for a change, despite the fact it made you sick to your stomach to do something so sudden, especially all on your own. But, maybe a new location is just what you needed. 

When you first arrived, reality hit you like a truck. All you felt was immense regret, you had no friends, you’re making less money now, and you didn’t know your way around San Diego at all. This wasn’t something you were used to, causing the doubts of your rash decision to eat at you whenever you had a moment to think to yourself. You should’ve never done this. 

And as if your guardian angel saw your internal struggle, they sent Jake on your trail to ease all of it. All it took was his odd obsession with the way you specifically made his vanilla lattes, to keep him around—following your every move like he was tethered to you. 

After a while Jake found himself not only sticking around for your applaudable barista skills, because there was you. Jake never realized he could possibly laugh so hard that it hurt until he started talking to you during his morning coffee runs. Before you, he had always thought that was just an expression–how was it possible to laugh that hard? And like any other guilty pleasure Jake had, he couldn’t help himself in indulging in you, not wanting to share you with anyone else. 

After flight training, he’d unconsciously rush out of the locker rooms without saying goodbye to anyone in order to catch you after your shift. Just so he could walk you to your car as he accidentally bumps into you outside. 

And as the weeks flew by, your shared activities quickly branched out from just friendly morning chats and Jake walking you to your car. 

Now you found yourself spending weekends with him, where you had continued to make his coffee for him, but now just inside in the comfort of your own apartment. Playful conversations were had every morning, with you behind the counter and him seated across from you grinning ear to ear from hearing your laughter that he evoked from you. This became permanently ingrained into both your weekly routines. His excuse being that he can’t physically survive if you weren’t the one making him his morning coffee, so he obviously has to come see you every weekend. It was a no brainer, he told you. 

“He is ridiculous.” he affirms once more before bringing his lips back around the rim, being more careful to not get his drink onto his face this time.

Although it might have seemed like he was rambling to himself, you had been nodding and quietly reacting to every statement he made thus far–assuring him that you were paying attention to him. 

“That's funny, coming from the guy who was growing a whip cream beard one second ago.” you inquired.

“When did you stop being so nice to me?” he sulked, something he was specifically raised to never do. His father would have had a stroke if he knew his 30 year old son was habitually sulking now. But it couldn’t be helped, you drew out new behaviors from him, that he never felt ashamed about doing. 

“If I knew you were like this, I would have never pestered you at work in the first place.” Though, Jake knew that if his day had been reset from the first day you two met, he’d undoubtedly pester you every single time. 

“That’s too bad, isn't it?” You flicker some water on your finger tips at him. 

“Hey, watch it missy.” he flinches, bringing a protective palm to hover over his drink. 

“So, let me get this clear-” you redirected the conversation back to its original course. 

Jake quickly shifts his attention away from the state of his drink and back to you. 

“So Maverick..” he nods, confirming that you got his callsign right. 

“...wants you and your co-worker Rooster to spend time together outside of work. At least once a week?” you cautiously recall what he told you.

“Yeah, isn’t that horrible?” he puffs his chest in defiance, expecting you to readily agree with him. 

“Can’t be that bad though, right? Shouldn’t you two be working on becoming good friends, especially now that your dagger squad is an official detachment now? You’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on.” you expressively shared your final thoughts with him.

He silently watches you rinse off the dishes as he soaks in what you said, with his brows pinched tightly together. You were right, he knew that. 

“We get along fine, we’re kind of cool with each other after that first mission. Why be best buds?” he deflects. 

“I want you to have more friends, Jake. Give it a shot.” you attempt to encourage him, while placing his dishes onto the drying rack carefully.

“I have you and Javy.” 

“But you can also have Rooster. And who knows, maybe everyone else on the squad too.” you offered up with a smile. 

“I have a week to plan our first bonding session.” Jake threw up his fingers in two sarcastic quotes. 

“Cute. So like a date?” 

You grinned widely watching Jake’s face fall flat. 

“God. Please.” he scoffs, trying to fight off the smile making its way onto his face. 

“Never call it a date, I’m begging you angel.” Oh. The endearment slipped from his mouth and Jake looked slightly mortified. 

Well, it’s not like you weren’t an angel in his eyes anyways, he thought.

Ignoring the flush of heat rushing to your ears, you attempt to casually brush over what he said. 

“How about. I lend you a hand, just this once.” Jake’s ear almost perks at your statement, instantly recovering from his slip up.

“I’ll set something up for you two down at the shop after I close up, all you have to do is show up.”

“Only question is, if you trust me enough with something like that.” 

Of course I do, he thinks. 

Jake wishes he could extract the part of your brain that made you doubt yourself so much. The blond couldn’t think of anything he wouldn't trust you with. And he’d seen you do it so often–second guess yourself, and he hated it. He hated how it made him feel–sick at the thought that you could possibly not believe in yourself. 

“If I didn’t, would I be sitting here defenseless at your place?” He flashes his dimples at you in a reassuring smile. 

Adoration fills you completely at the sight of him, his tousled morning hair and the creases set under his eyes, marked by his smile makes you glad you decided to take residency here. This feels right, Fightertown feels right. He feels right.

“You’re lucky my love language is acts of service, Jacob Seresin.”

“Mine is physical touch.”

“Gross.” 

“Don’t believe me? Come here.” he raises his brows teasingly, getting up from his seat, making his way towards you. 

“No. Stay back.” you panic, swatting away his already outstretched arms. 

“So…what do we think?” you were basically jittering from where you stood, a poor attempt at holding back your overflowing excitement. 

The two naval aviators stood side by side in front of you, almost mirroring each other perfectly. Expressions unreadable, hands on their hips, lips pursed and side eyeing each other—urging the other to speak first. Javy directs Jake to say something first by lifting his chin at him as Jake deadpans his best friend in response.

Between you and the pair of pilots sat a small table you manage to drag in the center of the cafe with a candle flickering in the center, surrounded by an array of chocolate croissants that you knew Jake had an insatiable craving for. The rest of the table was cramped with random assortments of new Valentines recipes you had been testing–and who better to try them than your reliable Jake and his new friend that you would assume to be in equal size as him. 

And how could he possibly crush your excitement and tell you this looks absolutely terrifying, and that he would rather do 300 pushups under the unforgiving sun than sit at this romantic table and feast on your heart shaped cookies with the likes of Rooster. 

“Well,” Coyote begins, not noticing the pointed glare Jake shoots at him. 

Jake observes you begin to shrink in front of his eyes at Javy’s tone and immediately slaps his palm over his friend’s mouth, panicked at what he’ll start to say. 

Javy stiffens, shocked that his germophobic friend had even put his hand on his face, recalling all the times Jake complained that Javy should start using cleanser for his “oily” skin. Jake even once swore he would rather eat dirt than touch Javy’s face after seeing sweat drip down his face after their first morning run together. 

“It's perfect” he swallows back any sign of hesitancy under your careful gaze.

You know he’s lying for your sake. Although he sounds sure, you could see the prominent vein in his neck protrude, a tell tale sign that he’s feeling pressured. 

“Jake..” the uncertainty in your voice makes him want to double over. Your shoulders have already slumped, his eyes frantically watching as your cardigan start to slip down your arms, exposing your bare shoulders. 

Javy’s mouth parts as he watches Jake take a big step over to you, gently pulling the sleeves of your knit cardigan up to your shoulder blades again. His hands slowly moving down to your wrist, nervously playing with the cuffs of your sleeves. 

Javy’s heart briefly swells at the sentiment, but he knows what he has to do. Jake would thank him for this later, he hopes. 

Although Jake has to be the most horrifyingly fearless pilot Javy knows, when it boils down to situations like these–he knows his best friend needs a push in the right direction or else he’ll never take the leap of faith. 

Javy pulls himself together.

“Admit that you hate it, Hangman” he speaks up, interrupting the moment.

Bewildered, Jake snaps his neck to face Javy from where he stood in front of you. 

“I do not hate it.” his southern accent is now present from being provoked. 

Javy feels glad for once that Jake is so stubborn. 

“So you’ll happily sit here with Rooster?”

“Yes.” He answers almost immediately.

“Can we join you too?” Javy quickly shoots the question.

“Of course” he answers, right away.

Javy practically glows at the sight of Jake’s eyes shooting wide open, caught off guard by his own reply. 

“Perfect. Rooster can hang with all of us.” Javy proudly grins. 

Something unfamiliar swirls at the pit of his stomach. You, Javy, and him hanging out? Sure. That's fine, as long as he sits between you two. But You, Javy, him, and Rooster? It’s unpredictable. 

When a bird flies straight into his jet unexpectedly, he can handle that–he can predict the outcome. When his jet is jeering towards a canyon and his eject button doesn't work, that’s fine he can predict his next move to get out safely. But the idea of you and Rooster in the same room makes his head spin out of control. Jake feels like his soul shifts out of his body for a moment.

“That’s a great idea Javy! Maybe we can sit in on this hangout so Jake is less nervous too.” you chime in, grabbing Jake’s hands sweetly, swinging them side to side to soothe his nerves. 

His head lowers to watch the way your small hands grip at his own calloused ones–playfully swinging your arms left to right in unison in the small space between the two of you. His eyes soften at the sight.

“I want to hear what you guys think of my new recipes too..” you add on, shyly smiling up at Jake–silently asking if that was okay with him. 

It's a done deal. He can’t take back what he says. Not when you're staring up at him like this, looking so tooth achingly sweet in his favorite white dress that you own.

“Yeah let’s do it..” he gulps.

thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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#jake seresin #hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x oc #bradley bradshaw #javy machado #hangman fanfiction #hangman x you #tgm imagine #top gun maverick #tgm au #top gun fic #top gun 2 #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Ten: [The Potato Head Society & The Other Guy, Jarred?]

Summary: Jake helps you shave your head in hopes of keeping your power and control. Facing your own mortality makes you question your faith in a higher authority and Jensen and Jake met for the first, and what you hope, will be the last time.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion

Word Count: 4.2K

Author Note: It's no secret I've been having a little bit of a rough go on this hell-site as of late. But I'm still here, working on this series. Seeing your weblogs, comments and concepts truly mean the world to me. so please, don't be hesitant to share.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“My only real advice for this kind of thing is this.” Jensen sighed as he stood on the steps of his townhouse with you. Coffee in one hand, end of life brochure in the other. Things had taken a rather drastic turn for him in the last few days. After your birthday, his health started to drastically diminish–so much so that his doctors weren’t too sure how much time there was left to combat the cancerous cells spreading through his body. “Go right through it.” Jensen smiled, never once did you ever see his positivity falter. “Like right through it, feel it all, be in it, don't avoid it because the moment you start avoiding it is when it's truly won.” 

Little Sammy held your hand as you stood next to Jensen–he was too young to understand that the man talking to you was dying, hell, you weren't even sure if you understood the significance of the pamphlet Jensen had picked up after your first CCA meeting. He’d told you it was for a friend, little did you know that friend was standing right in front of you. 

The Cancer Counseling Association held biweekly meetings at the hospital. You hadn’t planned on attending when your oncologist, Doctor Morrison, had first mentioned it. But when Jensen said he’d been going almost religiously for three years? You thought, what's the harm? 

The harm was it was depressing as fuck. 

“You go completely in the tough times, feel everything and get out the other end of it all.” You’d asked Jensen something along the lines of how he’d managed to keep fighting all this time and still be so positive about life and all its underwhelming rewards. He was for the most part, a happy guy despite it all. But even the strongest of soldiers have an achilles heel. 

Jensens just so happened to be the fact you were forbidden fruit, he wasn't about to tread on another man's toes. Especially when he was tiptoeing towards the sweet release of death's gentle hands. None of that stopped his heart from racing whenever you smiled though. 

“Many of these things you don't have a choice in.” Jensen continued as his eyes lingered down to little two year old Sammy who stood holding your hand in his. If anything you needed the encouragement to fight this battle for your children. “You know, fuck, whats that expression?” Jensen mulled it over as you chuckled, still standing on the path right outside his street facing townhouse. “Uhh–oh yeah! It's not how well you walked through the fire, but how you walked through it regardless.” 

“I think I'm just barely crawling through the flames right now–” You answered honestly. There wasn't a nice way to say he’d looked better than he did right now, with sunken eyes and skin that looked as if all the life had been drained from his soul. 

So you never mentioned it. 

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

“So—“ The library wasn’t Jake Seresins favourite place to go, but there was someone who made the isles of hard covered literature easier to understand that always seemed to draw him in. Like a moth to a flame. “Did you have a good Christmas?” The silence that followed as you stared across the desk where you were processing returned textbooks had Jake's heart racing, he couldn’t read you and that fact made him all the more nervous. “Or not? If you’re Jewish maybe? Don’t celebrate Christmas that’s cool too I just thought—“ You had to giggle at the college football star standing across from the reception desk with his elbows leaning on the ledge. Your smile was pure happiness, it wasn’t hard to make Jake's heart melt inside his chest—a chest he once thought was hollow. 

“I had a wonderful Christmas, I went home to visit my mum, she always says that if the Christians can steal Christmas from the pagans then us non-religious folk can celebrate too.” You shrugged your shoulders politely as you kept checking off the returned textbooks from students who’d taken them home over the summer. 

“What do you mean when you say the Christians stole Christmas?” Jake Seresin grew up in an incredibly conservative, extremely religious household that attended church every Sunday rain hail or shine. Jake swore his mother nearly spontaneously combusted when he had to stay in hospital overnight after having his appendix removed. It was a Saturday afternoon when they’d presented to the emergency room—poor old Janeen nearly dropped dead at the mere thought of her ten year old missing church the next morning. 

“Lord have mercy upon us, for we have sinned.” Jake could still remember his mother crying vividly when he woke after surgery. Even at ten he knew his mother was somewhat of an overly sensitive soul. 

“Well technically, in order to convert the Germanic pagans who, like, celebrated the winter solstice and stuff—the Christians were like, fuck it, let’s just say that Jesus was born on this day and you can hang tinsel and stuff.” Again, you shrugged your shoulders like it was common knowledge, but as Jake stared down at you with confusion swirling in his emerald eyes, you thought for a split second that maybe this was actually news to the college athlete who’d been following you around for the better half of nine months. Respectfully. 

“You can’t just change someone’s birthday like that? Can you?” Jake, in all his years of attending Sunday services, Sunday Schools, being forced to read the bible and knowing far too much about parting seas and burning bushes, he’d never once been told that Christmas was just a day. 

“It’s kinda like how King James was rewriting the bible on one side of the castle and had witches trying to turn his pee into gold on the other.” Jake was speechless as you looked up at him from your chair, your eyes seemingly swirling with knowledge beyond your years. It made sense that you worked in the library on campus. 

“How the hell do you know all this?” Jake asked through a sheepish smile he couldn’t hide, your intelligence intimated him in the best of ways. You made him want to do better, be better, strive for more in life. It wasn’t that Jake wasn’t smart, he was. But next to you? It was an unparalleled excellence. 

“I uh—I tend to read a lot.” Jake caught the way you faded into yourself, never one to want to outshine others. “Just get lost in here sometimes, books are sometimes easier to understand than people.” Jake could sympathise with that sentiment, he knew what it was like to feel like everyone was watching, judging a book by its cover so to speak. Everyone knew him as the meathead footballer who’s weekends were spent racking up the body count. 

But with you? Jake just felt like Jake. Because that’s who he was to you. Simply and forever Jake. 

“Do you like, not believe in God or something Miss Y/l/n?” Jake asked cautiously. He didn’t want to offend you or come across as rude or anything—he was simply asking a question he thought he may need to know if he was ever going to introduce you to his mother. 

“I find it hard to believe in a world full of stories about Gods and Goddesses from a plethora of different perspectives that there can only be one, if one exists they all have to right? Harmoniously and complacent with the way the universe has fallen to shit without their divine intervention.” Jake had to take a moment to take what you had just said in. He was almost rendered speechless, but not quite. Not Jake Seresin. 

“Damn Honeybee, you’re fucking fearless aren’t you?“ Jake couldn’t help but to smirk as he tried to keep his voice down. “You’re just raw doggin’ life with no religious affiliations.” It was then your turn to laugh. 

“Guess I am. What about you? Do you believe in a God? An all mighty man, or woman, that sits in the clouds and judges your every action?” You asked with a teasing smirk as Jake bit his bottom lip, mulling over your question: 

Did he believe in God? 

“My mother would probably prefer if I said yes, but, the more I look at life without the rose coloured glasses I tend to think perhaps the big guy in the sky is all just some story.” 

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

“Did you know hair holds memories.” The sound of buzzing clippers echoed off the walls of the bathroom as you sat before the mirror. Jake stood behind you with those big emerald eyes you loved so dearly, looking at you with a sympathetic look of understanding and support. “In some cultures people don't even cut their hair because it would upset the gods.” Jake could see the tears in your eyes as you looked at him through the mirror, understandably rambling to somewhat buy yourself some more time. “Medusa's hair was alive, there's certain styles linked to different cultures and full hair cutting ceremonies in–” If Jake didn't interrupt now you would have gone on forever. You had a habit of information dropping in situations where nervousness got the better of you. Not that Jake ever minded, he just knew if he didn't get ahead of it, you wouldn't stop. That would ultimately lead to you sitting in silence when the information swirling around inside her head had all been said. Panic would begin to rise inside your chest, the air would soon get thin, the room would suddenly get a little hotter and before you could even realise you'd be in the midst of a full blown panic attack. 

The last time Jake witnessed such a thing was when Sam had colic. 

“Honey–” Jake cooed as he turned off the clippers he held in his hand, only to place them down on the countertop to rest his hands on your shoulders. “Noone is forcing you to do this, if you don’t wanna cut your hair we don't have to.” 

“No–” You sighed. “No, I want to do this, it's just a lot.” You tried to explain. “It's probably one of the only things I still have control over.” Jake understood, it would be hard not to. After all, he wasn't heartless. If he could Jake would have taken this all away, he would have given anything, including his own life to take your pain away. “I just hope I don't have a weird shaped head.” 

“I'm sure you have a really nice scalp dear.” Jake chuckled as he massaged your shoulder tenderly. “And look, if you want my professional opinion, I think you’ll make an awesome live action Mrs. Potato Head.” 

“Jacob!” You tried to hide your smile as you felt your cheek heating with a hume so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “You’re cruel!” 

“But I made you laugh.” Jake countered through a shit eating grin, that signature Seresin smile you loved so much. The very one all three of your children had inherited from their father. “That's all that matters, now–let me work my magic alright, I've got you.” 

“You’re probably a worse hairdresser than you were a husband–” It was a low ball, but Jake took it like a champ as he reached out for the clippers. The buzzing was almost immediate as he used the pad of his thumbs to complete the electrical circuit. With the tool now in full gear, Jake chuckled as he looked at you with fake shock and horror casted across his face. 

“Oh now who's being cruel huh?” Jake watched as your eyes followed his hand that held the clippers. “Technically we’re still married Honey, you still have my last name.” He mumbled under his breath but still loud enough for you to hear, seemingly trying to keep your attention on what he was saying rather than the clippers approaching your head. 

But–you moved:

“Should we cut my hair with scissors first?” 

“Y/n–” Jake sighed as he once again turned off the clippers and placed them back down on the side of the sink. 

“No no no I'm not trying to stall, I just don't want you to accidentally scalp me when my hair gets caught up in the shaver.” Jake saw your point, for the hair you did have left it was pretty thick and full of life still. He held the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Not in frustration towards you, but in defiance of his new quest. 

“I'll go ask the nurses station for some scissors.” 

“Thankyou–” Was all you managed to say back before Jake stepped out of the bathroom attached to your hospital room. The Christmas lights still flickered in the dimly lit room, seemingly consuming the entire room in bright blues, greens, reds and yellows. Even in sickness you couldn't help but to lean into the christmas cheers. 

It hit Jake in that moment as he rounded out of your hospital room that he should get you something small to open when you wake up from surgery. The hospital has a gift shop right? Perhaps some flowers and a small gift you could keep with you during chemo. Maybe a book or a– *Thud* 

Caught up in his own train of thought as he made his way to the nurses station, Jake ran straight into someone coming out of the elevator. There were two very distinct things Jake noticed as he came back into the reality around him. Those distinct things being that the man he’d run into was carrying not only flowers, but a small gift. Huh, uncanny. 

“Sorry man, my bad.” The man apologised almost immediately after the mild impact. 

“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” Jake responded with a polite smile his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” Jake reached out to shake the guy's hand, in retrospect he should have kept walking. Jake really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions. 

The most paranoid fantasy Jake could think of would never have prepared him for the name that the man spoke next as he took Jake's hand in his. 

“Jensen–” 

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

“Okay, I'm ready.” Neither Jake nor Jensen knew if you had mentioned either one in conversation, so, respectfully, both men chose to play the fool. Neither one really wanted to ask. Neither Jake nor Jensen wanted to be the one to open that can of worms. 

When Jake returned with the borrowed scissors in his grasp–he acted as if he hadn’t just met the man he assumed was the very Jensen in your contacts. 

“Last chance Honeybee–” Jake cooed as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Are you positive?” He asked with a smile so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “I’m all in with you, just say the word and we do whatever you wanna do.” 

There was a momentary pause in the conversation. Jake's questions lingered in the air around you, it was hard not to get caught in the moment, get lost in the emerald eyes looking at you through the mirror. Jake stared you down as you shifted in your chair to look at him. He saw no hesitation in your eyes as Jake followed your gaze, searching for any sign or signal that could indicate that the next few moments were about to be a mistake. 

“Honey—“ Jake tried to heed the warning lights flashing before his very eyes as you closed the gap between the two of you. Jake stood leaning over your right shoulder, looking longingly at your lips. “Don’t do anything stupid now.” 

“Loving you is stupidity—“ Was all you said before you let your lips softly connect with your husband’s. Jake kissed you back with enough love in his heart to knock the wind right out of your lungs. The fleeting moment was broken, however, when Jake pulled away. The idea of another man kissing you on his mind, what was this guy's deal? Jackson? Jason? 

“Come on Mrs Potato Head, hand me those scissors—“ Jake chuckled, hiding his own insecurities about the man he’d unintentionally met in the hall. You took a second to keep up, but as you licked your lips to savour the taste of Jake's signature vanilla chapstick, you nodded and handed him the scissors. 

“I’m ready.” You sighed, once again looking back at your own reflection. “Let’s get this over with.” Change is an inevitable part of life, but that fact didn't make the current circumstances any easy to process. “Do you think that there's gonna be a place for me despite my inability to believe in a higher being?” Jake understood what you were saying, but he didn't have the answers. “I'm starting to wonder more about if there could ever be a life after death.” 

Clumps of hair in small sections fell to the tiled floor around you as Jake worked his hands through your hair. Cutting strands from your head like the local mower man cut grass. It felt like such a mundane task to complete, like this was an everyday run of the mill, average experience. But for you? This was a hard and confronting pill to have to swallow. 

“I’ve spent my whole life not believing in religion, so who am I supposed to pray to to keep me alive Jake?” Jake saw the tears in your eyes as he cut your hair with caution and steady hands, he heard the small but audible sobs that escaped your lips as he switched from the scissors to the clippers. The buzzing all but silenced your cries but Jake knew this was hard on you. The tears that stained your cheeks clearly reflected your sadness, anger and the inner turmoil that had been engulfing your entire existence since your diagnosis.

“You don’t pray to anyone Honey, you’re stronger than this cancer could ever be.” Again, no one ever sits you down and prepares you for this. No one gives you the heads up about the possibility of one day having to shave your wife's hair off in the name of dignity and control. But as Jake ran the shavers across your scalp, leaving nothing but a small layer of fuzz in their wake, he saw just how much sorrow and pain was swirling in your eyes. 

Jake thought to himself in that very moment: ‘I've been needing a haircut for a while now anyway.’ 

With one quick motion and in the blink of an eye, Jake was running the shavers right down the middle of his head. You really had to take a second to process what he’d just done, what your husband had just done right behind you. 

“Jake!” The shrill that escaped your mouth was something unmatched to any emotion you had ever expressed before. “What are you doing?” The image of Jake shaving his head in solidarity would forever be burnt into your mind. 

“You said it yourself–hair holds memories and we can make new ones together.” Jake cooed as he shaved off those golden boy locks you loved to run your fingers through. He suited the buzz cut a little more than you did if you were being perfectly honest. 

With teary eyes and puffy cheeks you stood on weak legs. The simple gesture of a haircut meant the world to you, Jake knew that. He didn't want you going through this alone. If shaving his head with you brought you a sense of solace? He was more than happy to. 

“Looks good–” You smiled as tears ran down your cheeks. Jake reached out to cup your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with the pads on his thumbs. “Mr. Potato head.”

“Consider us the founders of the Potato Head Society.” Jake chuckled as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. In order to cherish you the way you deserved, Jake had to be the bigger man here. He knew that a cloud of uncertainty loomed in the halls, one by the name of Jackson or fucking Jeremy for all Jake cared. But as he stood in the bathroom with you, surrounded in the locks of hair that had once been on your head, he knew damn well at the end of the day it was still his last name you chose to take. “Good thing you don't have an odd shaped head after all, it kinda suits you.” 

“Would you still love me if I did?” You asked quietly, giving Jake an excuse to confess his love. Jake's lips were soon pressed softly and ever so tenderly against your once again in the blink of an eye as gentle hands still worked to soothe your stained cheeks. 

It wasn’t a hard question to answer, nor an easy question to ask—but as Jake pulled away to rest his forehead on yours as he ran the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, you knew it was an easy concept to understand: 

“I’ve never, and I will never, stop loving you Honey.” 

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

For as much as Jensen hated all things hospital related, over his past few years of treatment, he’d come to know these halls better than he knew the back of his own hand. 

From countless radiation treatments, to endless chemotherapy sessions. Hours upon hours of remedial therapies and acupuncture sessions to stimulate nerve endings, Jensen was a man who was just about ready to pull the plug and live out the remaining few months he had, or less, from the comfort of his back deck. 

He’d been poked and prodded, sliced and diced, far too many times to count on both his hands and for what? A few extra months tacked on top of a few years spent battling pancreatic cancer. No thankyou. Jensen had always had an optimistic outlook on life, until his life started to become the same bland halls and the same bland rooms, with the same bland doctors and nurses who all shared the same look of medical sympathy. 

Jesen, for all intents and purposes, was ready to give up his signature status of being the resistant ‘pin cushion’. The student nurses could learn how to change cannula sights on the lady, Paola, who sat in the same chair for every chemotherapy session. 

The last few days hadnt been too hot for the six foot one, brown eyed, brown haired (allegedly) man. His prognosis had been diminishing ever since he got the news his treatment was no longer as effective as it once had been. 

The day Jensen was told he only had a few short months to live before his organs would begin to fail, even with treatment, was the same day he saw you crying outside the local doctors office. The Hermitage centre as they called it. 

The last thing Jensen ever wanted was for his life to be meaningless, before he knew what he was doing? His feet were padding against the concrete as the psalm of his hands began to sweat inside his jean pockets. 

“You look like you’ve just been told you’re dying?”  As the elevator counted up the floors of which Jensen had to take from the ground floor of the Rhode Island Hospital to the oncology unit, he could vividly remember asking you that question. He recognised the look on your face because not ten minutes prior he;d been told the very same thing. 

“I'd start to get your affairs in order, Mr. Hughs “ It hadn't been just a regular check up with his local general practitioner. But it had been the almost final nail in a long awaited coffin. 

As the elevator dinged, Jensen took a few steps out into the bustling hallways of the oncology ward. Within seconds, he was met with a force so muscular it damn near knocked him back a few paces. But the cancer ridden ex fireman squared his shoulders and kept easy on his feet. 

“Sorry man, my bad.” Jensen almost immediately apologies after the mild impact. He assumed that it was him that had caused the slight collision. His special awareness was pretty shot these days. The flowers he carried were almost crushed on impact, however he managed to save the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies. 

“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” The man responded with a polite smile Jensen could only assume his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” like a slow motion car wreck, Jake reached out to shake Jensens hand. In retrospect he should have kept walking. Jensen really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions. 

The most paranoid fantasy Jensen could think of would never have prepared him for the look of utter betrayal that smeared itself across the blonde headed aviators face as Jensen shook your husbands hand: 

“Jensen–”

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

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #jake seresin x female!reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #tgm cast #tgm imagine #jake seresin angst #jake hangman x reader #top gun maverick

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Barbie Girl 💄 | Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin Imagine

Takes place before, during, and after the events of Top Gun Maverick

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Barbie!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)

Content warnings: light profanity, fluff | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4.3k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @kayla-swiftly)

Premise: They say the sky is the limit and anything you set you’re mind to will be achieved as long as you’re dedicated to it. For most people that testimony is nothing but a mere fantasy. But for one woman, with too many dreams to count on her fingers, she took that statement to heart. Proving you can be anyone you want to be and maybe even a few others give or take 😉

Note: Anyone else obsessed with Barbie lately?? Omg y’all I saw the movie last week and absolutely fell in love and i had this request from around the time the final trailer dropped and knew it was the perfect time to write this. I know I know I haven’t been living up to my promise of being consistent but man they having me working my ass off at my job. Also I’ve been traveling and I saw Big Time Rush last night (i felt like a teenager again and it was amazing 😭) anyway I hope you enjoyed this and let me know what you think!

—————————

“Hi, Barbie!” The familiar greeting fills Y/n’s ears as it does every morning she arrives at the hangar. With it comes an instant smile, hand raising to wave at the person responsible for it, “Hi, Phoenix!”

“Hey there, Barbie,” winks another friendly face.

“Hiiii, Hangman,” her tone is playful like his, turning energetic for Bob when he goes, “Hiya, Barbie!”

“Hi there, Bob!”

“Hey, Barbie.” “Good morning, Barbie.” “What’s up, Barbie Girl.”

“Hello, Rooster.” “Good morning to you too, Fanboy.” “Nothing much, Pay. And yourself?”

Unlike her fellow pilots, clad in their deep green flight suits, Y/n stood out in the crowd for hers was a little unorthodox when one thinks of a naval fighter pilot's uniform.

It was pink. Completely as in her combat boots were also the bright color and the patchers were white and pink tones rather than red, blues, black and any other color seen in the ones attached to her coworkers arms. ‘Barbie’ in pink cursive writing instead of traditional bold Times New Roman lettering.

And don’t forget the little flower dotting the ‘i’.

Growing up, Y/n took ‘you can be anyone and anything you want to be,’ quite literally. At no point was it a joke to her when she would tell her friends and family, “oh I’m gonna be a fashion designer and Olympic Gold medalist when I’m older,” “I wanna go to space, fly in planes, and see all the wonders of the world,” “I’ll be a doctor, a teacher, and movie star!” They’d smile and laugh, thinking it was adorable for a little girl to dream big. No way would it be possible to achieve all of those careers. Everyone only gets one life to live and time goes so fast one can only set their eyes on one path and hope for the best.

But Y/n was a dreamer. And if you’re going to dream, might as well dream big.

All through middle and high school people took Y/n’s intelligence for granted. Focusing more on her beauty rather than brains, it came as an under shock to everyone when Y/n had the credits to graduate at the ripe age of 15. Exceeding in her standardized test scores with a high school resume taking up three pages with extracurricular and academic achievements, she had colleges from all over the country begging for her to apply.

Stanford. Cornell. Pratt. Juilliard. NYU. John Hopkins. Harvard. UCLA. Duke. Top medical and law schools. Ivy League universities. Performing Arts schools calling for auditions after sending scouts to watch her perform in school plays and dance recitals. Coaches from high ranking NCAA gymnastics teams sending emails after emails.

So many to choose from….And so the story of Y/n L/n becoming a real life Barbie Doll begins.

Setting her eyes in New York, Y/n attended not one but two of the best schools in the country. While obtaining her bachelor’s in both astronautical and aeronautical engineering at NYU Y/n also completed a two year degree in Fashion Business Management at the Fashion Institute of Technology. During this time she continued training for the Olympics in hopes of making the 2008 Beijing team in gymnastics.

“How do you do it?” Her roommate at NYU constantly asked. “You go from here to FIT, working on two degrees that are completely on opposite sides of the spectrum and career paths,” she emphasized with hand expressions, “and still have enough to time to go to the gym to practice, eat three meals a day, have all your assignments done early, and sleep a reasonably about of hours each night.” Letting out an exhale, her roommate looks at Y/n as if she’s an alien from another world, “What’s your secret? Are you some kind of Barbie doll the government created as a test robot?”

Each time Y/n would pause, think for a moment before smiling, “I don’t know if I should find that as an insult or compliment, but I’m gonna chose it as a compliment and say it’s because I want to live a life where I can look back on and go, ‘I took a risk and tried something new even if it didn’t look possible but it was all worth it.’”

By the time Y/n turned 20 she had accumulated a vast list of credentials to her name. The list included getting her fashion business degree at 17, Bachelors in astronautical/aeronautical engineering at 19–receiving her Master’s for it at 20–An Olympic Gold and Silver medalist, dancing with the Radio City Rockettes, performing with the NYC Ballet Company in their rendition of Swan Lake, landing a role on Broadway, walking a runway at NY fashion week, and appearing on episodes of SVU, 30 Rock, All My Children, Sex and the City, and Ugly Betty.

So yeah, New York was a success in experiences for Y/n.

Following the high note, she packed her bags to leave the golden apple for the flashing lights of Hollywood, California. This time Y/n was working on her doctorates at USC, running her own business with her fashion degree called ‘Dream Closet’, and auditioning for film and tv shows.

Hollywood was a dream come true just like New York. Again she attended two different schools, this time flight school and USC. During the day she was occupied running from class to the hangar and then the observatory. Coaching dance and gymnastics on the side, designing clothes for her online shop which developed into a pop-up chain store in malls across America.

It wasn’t long until Y/n’s name grew into nationwide popularity. People started realizing the Y/n L/n who won the Gold and Silver medals in the 2008 Olympics was the same one responsible for the most recent fashion trends and guest starring on their favorite tv shows. What really set it in stone was when Y/n landed the role of an engineer officer in the 2009 reboot of Star Trek, going on to appear in both the 2013 and 2016 sequels.

Impressive was the only word her costars could use to describe her. What else was there?

Anytime there was a question involving, “who’s most likely to become president?” “Who’s most likely to try something new or create a new hobby?” “Who’s most likely to win a Nobel Prize?” Along those lines…the answer was obvious.

“Oh Y/n,” Zoe Saldana waves her hand, “Always.”

“Yeah,” Chris Pine agrees with a laugh, “That woman, I-I don’t know how one has the energy to do all that she does—a-and still want to do more.”

The Interviewer laughs with them, “didn’t she just race in the Daytona 500 last year?”

“Yes!! And she did a song with Lady Gaga when they were on American Horror Story,” Zoe’s tone is in absolute awe, “All while teaching at USC and creating new technology at NASA.” Chris lifts a finger.

“Don’t forget she had her own Mac Viva Glam line a couple years ago.” Zoe made a sound along the lines of ‘see what I mean,’.

“I’m telling you, she’s gonna be a name in the history books.”

What all has Y/n accomplished career wise? Let’s take a look.

Model, dancer, actor, singer, fashion designer, entrepreneur, athlete, engineer, race car driver, and professor.

And now she can add pilot to the list. Although she got her license to fly way back in 2009, Y/n didn’t put it to use full time until 2016, wanting to wait until after the release of Star Trek: Beyond to say goodbye to Hollywood for the time being and set forth on her next adventure.

Boy did it come as a surprise what she had planned.

The Manila folder containing her resume hit the desk of the Admiral, his eyes wide as saucers. “You wanna join the Navy?” Reading the front page for a fifth time, Cyclone glanced back at the woman in front of him. Doctor Y/n L/n. Or is it professor L/n? “And you wanna be one of my pilots?”

“Yes, Sir.”

”Ma’am, I apologize if this comes off as offending,” he really didn’t know any other way to put it. “But you are more qualified than any person on this base. Doctorates in aeronautical and astronautical engineering from the University of Southern California,” he counts off on his fingers, “you recently developed a groundbreaking advancement in space technology that’s going to help our astronauts—on the road to becoming a Nobel Prize nominee.” He raises his eyebrows, “And this is only what relates to this career field. I’m not even mentioning your acting, athletic, and fashion credentials. Why join the Navy?”

Y/n only offers a shrug, “I think the better question is, why not?” Cyclone lets out a sigh.

“What did you say your callsign was again?”

“Barbie.”

There was no stopping the small smile trying to break free, “I should’ve guessed.”

After completing OTS there was much debate on what Y/n’s rank would be coming into the Navy. Civilian lawyers and physicians often are Lieutenants (O-3) right away, but considering Y/n had two doctorate degrees and her pilot license they felt it was only fair for her to come in as Commander (O-5). From there Y/n was sent to North Island to attend Fighter Weapons School.

Better known to its flyers as Top Gun.

Y/n was used to the looks she received on a daily basis. From head to toe she was covered in variations of pink depending on what she was feeling. When teaching her briefcase and pantsuit were baby pink, in the labs her coat was hot pink, at auditions she wore pink leather jackets. Even her race car for the Daytona was pink.

Shoutout to Mac cosmetics for the sponsorship.

So it’s no surprise her flight suit would be the color she was known for—despite it being out of regulations.

Being more qualified than your superiors had its perks.

If she could have a pink F-18 she would but unfortunately that wasn’t possible. That was okay for Y/n. After all, she managed to get her own custom flight suit. One which had everyone having to do double takes whenever she walked into a room.

“Is she wearing…?”

“How the hell did they allow that?”

“Does that mean I can have mine in purple?”

Her first day at Top Gun Y/n met Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace. They were paired as roommates in the dorms and quickly became good friends. Phoenix was beyond amazed with Y/n’s accomplishments and experiences. Every conversation led to a new discovery. “Do you ever burn out?” Nat stag criss crossed on Y/n’s satin pink bed sheets, admiring her wall of photos from when she traveled to see all the wonders of both the ancient and modern world. “I feel I’d be a walking corpse from exhaustion. And you mentioned you’re still running and designing clothes for ‘Dream Closet’?”

Y/n removed her diamond studs, placing them on her desk she was using as a vanity. “I have a team dealing with the business side of things for the brand. I’m still CEO and creative director—usually I work on designs for a couple hours before bed to prepare for the next launch.”

Nat was in awe, “I have to ask….what’s been the best career you’ve done so far?” A common question Y/n heard, there was never a true answer. She loved every career. They all had their perks and their flaws, but at the end of the day it left her satisfied she achieved them.

“I don’t know yet,” she spoke truthfully, “I still have a few to check off on my list. When that happens I’ll let you know.”

Fast forwarding to 2019, Y/n answered the phone to Admiral Simpson’s voice with the news she needed to report back to North Island for a highly confidential mission. The details were unknown, but Y/n packed her bags, loaded her pink vintage corvette convertible and high tailed it to sunny San Diego.

The squeals initiated by Y/n and Nat the moment she stepped foot in the Hard Deck had heads whipping in their direction. “Hi, Barbie!” Nat’s arms opened for a hug.

“Hi, Phoenix!” Y/n accepted the embrace, still grinning ear to ear. The guys around them were looking at each other like, ‘what the…?’ Y/n wasn’t in her standard Khakis like they were—minus Rooster. She bore a pink denim number with matching boots with her hair curled and pink eyeliner surrounded by tiny rhinestones.

“You got selected too?” Nat complimented her outfit before cutting straight to the point.

“For the special detachment? Looks like it,” she winked.

“What happened to the Artemis program? Weren’t you up as a candidate?”

“Oh I still am,” Y/n affirmed proudly, “They’ll be announcing who’s to be selected in the coming months. So for now I’m still with the Bounty Hunters. Plus,” she leans in to whisper, “this will look good on my resume.” The two giggle before Y/n drifts her gaze to the boggling gazes in front of her. “Oh! I’m sorry for being so rude. I’m Y/n L/n,” extending her hand to the first person who’s name tag read Fitch, Y/n added, “But you can call me Barbie.”

“Barbie,” the blonde holding a pool cue repeated like a question, “like the toy Barbie?” Nat chuckled, throwing an arm around her friend after she was done shaking everyone’s hand as they introduced themselves.

“Fellas, if there is anyone who is a life sized version of Barbie, it’s this one right here.”

“Now, Phee…” Y/n’s tone was that of, ‘Don’t start.’

“It’s true,” the pilot defended. “Not only is she Commander Y/n ‘Barbie’ L/n,” jaws drop, “but she’s Professor and Doctor L/n.” The jaws hit the floor, “On top of founder, creative director and CEO of ‘Dream’s Closet,’” Javy makes a sound, familiar with the brand, “Emmy nominated actress,” Fanboy chokes on his water, “Olympic Gold Medalist and soon to be astronaut for the Artemis program.” By now all the guys are on the verge of losing their minds.

Bob rapidly blinks, “uh—.”

“Now I’m not an astronaut yet,” Y/n points out, “I’m a candidate for one.” Nat scoffs lightly.

“They’d be stupid not to pick you, Barb,” she then slaps her side, turning back to the guys, “Oh and how could I forget Broadway, Vogue, and the Daytona 500.”

“Daytona 500!?” Payback practically screeches.

“You were on Broadway?”

“—featured on Vogue—?!”

“Wait a minute I recognize you from Star Trek!”

“—How in the hell—.”

“Guys, guys!” Y/n laughs with her hands slightly raised, “Please, one at a time.” They were in for a long night of questions and story times. And just like Nat was years prior when she first roomed with Y/n at Top Gun, the officers were in complete amazement over the woman in front of them. Never had they met anyone like her.

“Wow,” Jake whistled once she finished bringing them up to date on her most recent careers. “You really are a real-life Barbie.”

“Shhhh,” a finger went to her lips, followed by a wink, “don’t tell Mattel.”

And thus the dagger squad was formed. Two and half weeks of hell bearing training preceding a face-with-death mission brings people closer. Every morning Y/n arrived at the hangar to a chorus of “Hi, Barbie.”

She waved at Reuben, “Hi Payback.”

“Hey there, Barbie Girl,” Javy threw her a peace sign.

“Hiya, Coyote!”

“Good morning, Barbie,” Rooster tipped his hat.

“Mornin’, Rooster.”

“Hi, Barbie!” “Hi, Barbie!” Her favorite duo harmonized.

“Hi, Bob! Hi, Phee!”

And for some closer than others….

“You know I was thinking,” Jake commented, taking Y/n’s hand before leading her to the pottery class he signed them up for. Every Friday night was reserved for date night. Dinner and a movie. Walk on the beach. Spending $20 worth of quarters at an arcade. Attending a comedy show. Paint and sip. Following the successful mission, Jake and Y/n hit it off and began seeing each other.

“Famous last words.”

“It’s not bad,” a chuckle left his lips, stopping at the door. “I just thought it was funny. You know how you’re basically Barbie?” His cheeky smile resulted in her mirroring it.

“Yessss.”

“This means I’m pretty much your Ken, right?” The question makes the woman visible ‘awe’. Jake ruffles a hand through his hair and gives his best blue steel, “we kinda look alike. Don’t you think?”

Laughing, Y/n kisses his cheek, “I mean…name a more iconic duo than Barbie and Ken.”

“Barbie and Hangman?”

“Exactly.” It was safe to assume what their Halloween costumes were going to be.

Time went on, missions were run. And after a year of anticipation—though it felt like forever, it was finally announced in 2020 Y/n would be one of the astronauts selected to be part of NASA’s Artemis program launching in 2024.

Making Y/n the first woman to go to the moon.

The call came in from a restricted number when they were in a meeting, and knowing she was to expect a call within the month everyone quickly shut up so the pilot could answer.

She excused herself to leave the room, staying in front of the window so the team could see her. Throughout the conversation Y/n’s expression remained neutral to the point none had a clue whether the news was good or bad. Only when she reentered the room did they get the answer.

“I’m going to the moon!!!”

“Ahhh!!!!” The team exploded in an array of cheers, Y/n jumping up and down, careful not to drop her phone that was in her hands when Jake lifted her in his arms.

“I’m so fucking proud of you!” Despite being unauthorized to show pda in uniform, Jake gave her a big kiss on the lips, not caring who saw. “You are the most exceptional human being on this planet.”

“Jake,” tears welled in her eyes, which he kissed away. Her heart filled with warmth and gratitude. Feeling on top of the world with her closest friends supporting her.

Once all calmed down and they finished the meeting, Mickey jumped from his seat, “Come on Barbie, let’s go party!” Everyone sped to the Hard Deck to celebrate the news. Mav bought the first round, followed by Payback.

“Guys you don’t have to do all that,” Y/n said once she realized they all agreed to buy her drinks for the night.

“We want to,” Nat tapped her beer with Y/n’s cocktail glass, the guys voicing agreements. “For years you’ve been dreaming about this and it’s finally happening. Your hard work is paying off and we want to celebrate—show you we love and appreciate you, Barbie.”

Y/n fought back tears, never afraid to show her emotions. Some may find it childish or thinned skin, but to Y/n that was what being human was all about. “I love you guys.”

“We love you!” The voices echoed together.

The night had been going well with the squad hanging out by the pool tables like they usually did when Y/n approached the bar to pick up the next round Mickey was paying for. Not paying attention to those beside her, she smiled at Penny and repeated the order before waiting patiently.

But what’s a night at a bar without someone who lacks boundaries.

“You must be the one they call Barbie,” a voice says, flirtation seeping through the words. Glancing to her right, Y/n recognizes a gentleman from the flight line whose name she could not recall. “You’re quite the talk around base. In fact, weren’t you in some Hollywood blockbuster?”

“Yes,” she politely responds, keeping the answer short. Though she was known to be a sweetheart and kindhearted to anyone she met, Y/n could tell where the interaction was heading toward and did not feel comfortable entertaining it any further. “A long time ago.”

“I’m Lieutenant Paul Billings,” he extended his hand, and she immediately clocked he was trying to show off his rank. ‘Boy he’s in for a treat.’

Not wanting to make a scene, she accepts the handshake. “Commander Y/n L/n,” there was emphasis on the Commander, displaying the woman was of higher rank and therefore a silent warning to Billings to not cross a line.

There was a flash of surprise on his face. Y/n held back an amused laugh, ‘guess you didn’t hear everything.’

“Something the matter, Lieutenant?”

“No,” he brushes it off, “Nothing. Say,” he nods to the bar, “can I buy you a drink.” Did he not just hear her order a round for the people she came with?

“That’s kind of you,” she starts just as Penny arrives with a try full of cold beers and her usual cocktail. “But I’m all set, thank you.” Hands moving to take the tray, she jumps slightly at the feeling of his own coming to her wrist.

“What about lunch this week?”

“I’m sorry but I am spoken for, Lieutenant,” removing his hold, Y/n takes a step away.

Now Paul had lost his reasonable composure. Scoffing, he says, “What? Am I not enough for you?” The question results in her raising a brow.

“I beg your pardon?”

He makes a face, “You think because you’ve done all these careers and occupations that you’re better than the average person? I’m not a pilot and an actor or researching the cure for cancer while creating a documentary series,” venom seeps through his tone, obviously depicting his jealousy, “Basic is not up to your standards, so you have to throw our failures in our face as if we don’t already know.”

By now a crowd has formed. Jake started moving the second he noticed Billings etching too close to his girl, followed by Nat and the others who were ready to back him up. Behind the bar, Penny was fixing to ring the bell until being stopped by Y/n’s wave of the hand.

“Are you done?”

Paul’s expression was that of, “what?” No audible response was voiced therefore Y/n continued.

“Okay, I’m gonna go ahead and say this, Paul,” Y/n drops her shoulder. The change in body language let Jake and her friends know she wasn’t taking anything that the man said personally. “I know I should be offended by your insults and insinuations, but the truth is I’m not.” A small smile forms on her lips, “I don’t view myself higher than anyone because of what I accomplished. The only person I do that to, is myself—because I don’t have to prove to no one but me that I am capable of achieving what I set my mind to. And yeah,” a light chuckle escapes, “I’ve set my mind to a lot of things—way more than the average person. But that doesn’t mean you or anyone else can’t do the same.”

Pausing Y/n takes a breath before exhaling, “You look at me, and hate the way it makes you view yourself. Makes you believe you’re a failure because you didn’t follow the path you hoped to make for yourself.” Paul’s expression shifts to one of solemnity, like he was thinking of his younger self who had dreams and aspirations. Mourning what could have been.

It made Y/n sad for him. Empathetic despite him attacking her. “One thing I’ve learned over the years…is time is what you make of it. Life is about taking risks. You can still set out to do whatever it is you wish, as long as you’re committing to taking the risk no matter how scary it is. Sure you’ll find obstacles and it’ll feel like the whole world is against you. But determination will guide you through the walls, and you will be successful so that you can look back and think, ‘it was worth it.’ As cliche as it sounds,” she couldn’t hold back a laugh, “Barbie isn’t a person or an object you can obtain. Barbie is a mindset. And you have to unlock it in your own way, Paul.”

It was so quiet in the building, a pin could drop and everyone would hear it. Their looks of awe, admiration, and even newfound motivation by Y/n’s speech. Impressed by how classy she handled what very well could have been a scream match between rival squadrons.

Behind Billings the Dagger squad stood with proud smirks at their friend. Especially Jake, who caught Y/n’s eyes and threw her a wink. Nat gave the woman a salute, a silent gesture to say, ‘you inspire me everyday.’

And Billings? Well he was at a loss for words.

Patting his shoulder, Y/n grabbed the tray of drinks, “I wish you luck, Paul.” Thanking Penny, who gave her a proud nod and replied, “this ones on the house,” Y/n returned to her friends where she was met with a sweet kiss from Jake, claps on the back and “You go girl!” “Tell them who’s boss.” “Damn, you made me wanna go out there and live life the way I should.”

“What’s stopping you, Javy?” she handed him a beer, “the world is your playground.”

A couple hours later it was time to call it a night. Hugs went around, promises to meet up the following night and tabs were closed.

On their way out, Jake dropped a kiss to Y/n forehead, pulling her close to him as he led her to the door of the parking lot, “So what’s next for you, doll? You’ve proved you can be anything and anyone you chose to be,” he grins at her, “What will you set your mind to now after space?”

“First, I want to write a book—I think that’s something a lot have been waiting for me to do. Afterwards, well, I’ll have to wait a couple more years, but,” The corner of Y/n’s lips lift up before flashing a dazzling smile, “I’m thinking….the Oval Office is in need of a makeover. Don’t you think?”

Then, before he could answer, Y/n turns her head in the opposite direction as if she’s trying to find a hidden camera. Makes eye contact with you, the reader, winking before turning back to Jake where she sets off on her next adventure.

…………….

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa @artemissunn @pinkpantheris

#Spotify #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #hangman fluff #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick #TGM imagine #TGM fluff #barbie imagine #babrie!au #jake seresin fluff #dagger squad imagine #dagger squad x platonic!reader

[call-sign-shark]

✨Angel in Disguise ✨

Part 2 : Angel in Distress || Part 3: Angel In Panic

Summary: Studying hard for the Uranium Mission, you fall asleep in the meeting room. Hangman takes care of you...  Bonus: Bob's cameo.

Words: 1K

Tags: None, this is fluff.

Ask to be added to the taglist!

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Jake had never been a heavy sleeper. The slightest noise usually made him jumped off his bed and look around him in panic. From his childhood to the man he is today, his sleep has always been plagued by nightmares. That is why he never wanted to spend the night with you after you had sex. He would put his clothes back on, wink at you with that specific cocky flat-lipped grin and leave before you could ask him if he wanted to stay. Somehow, you grew used to it, even though it still hurt you. When you start fucking together, you both made it clear that it was just for fun. Because of your job, neither of you  allowed yourself to have a stable and serious relationship. But a part of you could not help but hope it was not just for the sex. At least, you could be friend? But you highly doubted that, for even during the day Jake behaved with you as he would behave with anyone: typical arrogant Hangman demeanor.

Tonight was one of those sleepless nights when Morpheus' arms could not reach him for his sweet embrace. Rather than turning around again and again in his bed, Jake decided to wander aimlessly in the military base. His plan was to grab something hot to drink, a coffee or a tea,  and to go for a night walk in order to keep both his mind and time busy. That was what he was doing when he noticed light coming from under the door of the meeting room. He furrowed his blond brows, perplexed. Was someone in there? He listened carefully, on the lookout for the smallest sound he could hear. After a few minutes of complete and peaceful silence, Jake came to the conclusion that someone had just forgotten to switch the lights off. Well, he had nothing else to do so he entered the room and reached for the switch. He was about to switch the lights off when he noticed a motionless silhouette, sitting further away in the room. Recognizing the overall, he understood it was certainly one of his crewmates. Judging by their peaceful and slow breathing, they were probably asleep. He wondered who it could be though. 

Jake walked towards the unidentifiable dagger to see who had fallen asleep here. How surprised he was when he recognized your adorable face. Your left cheek was pressed against your crossed arms, which were resting on the table. All around you were scattered the F-14 manual, the plan of the missions, and many other papers on which was written each maneuver and how to do them. You knew this information by heart, but your anxiety forced you to re-read them again and again.

The tall blonde man gently shook his head - he had not even noticed how anxious you were. The truth was you were so used to hiding your emotions that no one could read what you were hiding behind your smile. A twinge of sadness and remorse pinched his heart at the thought he had not been there for you. He should have reassured you, he should have helped you, but he did not. Jake started to wonder how many times he had missed the moments you were hurting, and it made him feel terribly guilty.. He who had been busy avoiding you during the day by fear of not being able to control the fucking feelings he started to have for you.

He ran his large and calloused hand through your hair with a surprising tenderness. As he did, he observed your attractive face, relaxed by your sleepy mind. You were breathtakingly beautiful... A faint and soft smile stretched the corners of his mouth at such a beautiful sight. His fingers gently brushed your seductive lips he was always craving. 

Jake decided he could not let you sleep in that uncomfortable position. Noticing the faint goosebumps on your arms, he first took his flight jacket off and put it on your shoulders to keep you warm. It was a dark brown leather jacket with fake lighter brown fur inside. Several patches had been sewn from here to there on the leather. Instinctively, you snuggled in his jacket, lulled by the warmth and the delicate masculine perfume you knew far too well. Your shoulders relaxed, as if your whole body assimilated Jake with safety, which was the case to be true. 

"Hey sleepy head, I'm going to bring you to your bed." 

You perceived his voice but did not quite understand what he said, for you were still dozing. All you could do was mumbling some inintelligible words. Jake could not help but snort with amusement. You were so damn cute .. He carefully carried you, bride-style, in his muscular arms. Instinctively again, you snuggled against his warm chest. He walked out of the meeting room, managing to switch the lights off with his elbows. 

He walked through the corridors, with you sleeping in his arms. Yet, he felt you moving and grunting slightly because your mind noticed that your body was being moved in another location.

"Alright, alright, alright... My bedroom is nearer." He whispered, even though he was not sure you were listening to him.

After a few minutes, he got to his room's door. Jake stopped in front of it and lowered his gaze towards your sleepy face to check on you. Fortunately enough he had not disrupted your sleep. You really needed some rest after all the anxiety you experienced lately. Once again, he smiled as he looked at your sleepy pout and realized how much you meant to him. Maybe he should consider talking to you about your relationship... Maybe you could be more than fuck buddies? Jake 's face leaned over yours, and he gently pressed his lips against yours to give you an adorable peck. His face backed off and he smirks - he had missed your lips. 

A sudden unpleasant thrill ran down his spine. He was feeling watched. Jake clenched his jaws and looked around him...

Only to find Bob, standing in the corridor. 

"The fuck you're doing here?"

"I got up to snack on something." Bob answered, his hand on the doorknob as he had frozen in this position when he saw Hangman kissing you.

"... Don't tell anyone." 

"Hm." Bob shrugged, letting him struggle with a vague answer.

After all, he had always known there was something between Hangman and you.

#hangman imagine #top gun maverick #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick x reader #tgm imagine #tgm fic #hangman x reader #Angel In

[accioprocrastination]

One Day At A Time (Part 6/?)

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

Summary: Hangman's fiancée is hospitalised and Jake waits for her to wake up

T/W: Anxiety, panic disorder, PTSD, POW, hints to torture, SA, abortion, pregnancy references, death

A/N: Sorry this got so much darker than I was expecting... Also as per I haven't proof read so ignore the grammar

Part 5 in case you missed it

Jake POV -

Jake wakes up stomach rumbling with a dead arm from clutching your hand as he sleeps. He momentarily breaks your hand hold to move his arm a bit, hoping to regain some feeling.

A consultant walks in smiling slightly at Jake as they make eye contact through the glass of the door.

"Morning." the doctor says walking in.

"Any news today?" Jake responds hopeful that you'll be coherent enough to talk to him soon.

The man proceeds to walk Jake through all of your bigger injuries - you arm and several ribs are broken; your ankle is sprained; they've operated on your shoulder to make sure it heals correctly. No haemorrhage from hitting your head but you might have a mild concussion.

"There's one other thing as well." The doctor says meeting Jake's gaze.

"I don't like that look doc, what is it?" Jake's nerves skyrocket from the doctor's obvious hesitation.

All of the colour in Jake's face drains as the doctor starts explaining to him what an ectopic pregnancy is. He shudders in repulsion as the doctor says the same thing in a slightly different way in an effort to fully express that it's not viable.

He cuts the doctor off when they start talking about treatment options. "I-I-I just need a minute." Jake says tears filling his eyes. "It's not about the abortion. I just need a minute to process that someone's done that too my Y/N." Jake tries to explain that this isn't a pro-life meltdown.

He doesn't see the doctor nod but he hears the man leave.

The second the door shuts Jake lets out a loud sob at the glimpse of what the last few years have looked like for you. He hunches over stomach clenching from worry - he knows that the minute you find that out that particular diagnosis, you're going to freak out.

Jake continues to cry he thinks back to the only other time you've been pregnant. The time that it was his kid and there were complications. Whatever bastard did this to you is going to unknowingly force you to relive that day.

Jake fruitlessly wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his hoodie then turns back to you face still wet from the tears silently falling down his cheeks. "This changes nothing with you and me sweets. I will be here every step of the way if you want me to." Jake says kissing your hand.

Having gone through a million emotions in the span of a few minutes Jake needs to step out of the room to try and let go of his rage.

*

Reader POV -

Every muscle In your body is tense in the knowledge that someone was nearby when you were trying to wake up earlier.

Wires and tubing press uncomfortably against your back. Why would they lie you over them that seems stupid?

You lie there controlling your breathing, eyes shut tightly just listening for signs of someone else.

I really don't want to open my eyes in case I'm not alone.

It's eerily quiet. All you can hear is the faint buzzing of tinnitus in your ears and a machine steadily beeping.

Okay, no one else is here, you tell yourself before gently opening your eyes. You scan the otherwise empty hospital room frowning in confusion. You're not sure whether someone was next to you or whether you dreamt that someone was in the vacant chair by your side?

There's fresh flowers and a card on the windowsill, so someone has been here.

A male nurse walks in as you try to disconnect from the machines behind you.

"Please don't do that! You're in the hospital." He says to you.

God my head is pounding.

"I got out?" you murmur in response, so drained that even talking is more of an effort than it has been recently.

"Yes you got out. You're okay." He confirms.

You nod slightly in recognition of what he just said, but mentally you completely disagree that you're okay right now.

"How's the pain on a scale from one to ten?" He questions.

Groaning in pain you shift slightly, you don't verbalise the feeling that you can only imagine is similar to being hit by a bus. Instead you ask "Can I self discharge?"

"It would be strongly against our medical advice if you were to self discharge right now. I would recommend that you stay here under observation and on the IV for a few more days." He grimaces at the prospect of you leaving this room.

"I'm not staying here." You exclaim, wincing slightly as you rip out a needle from your arm.

"Let me just go get a consultant to talk everything through with you and if you still want to leave after that, then you can." The nurse says hesitantly before jogging out of the room. I think he must be new to the role.

The door to your room opens and you suddenly understand the nurse's hesitancy as two police officers walk in.

You try to dart into an upright position to be more alert but whimper at your body's reluctance to move. The agony radiating from your left arm is unbearable. I can't imagine what sitting up would've felt like if that hadn't put my arm in this sling.

"Oh great you're awake!" The young police lady says standing pencil straight by the side of your bed ready to start questioning you.

"You're in the hospital, do you know what happened?" The guy questions you.

"What happened to Ghost?" You begin your own interrogation for answers.

"High on painkillers?" The female officer turns to the man who shakes his head.

"Was that your back seaters callsign?" He queries.

"Yeah. Is h-h-" You nod but you're cut off by the officer.

"It was instant. He wouldn't have felt anything." He answers without making you ask.

You cover your eyes with the palms of your hands fighting to regain a semblance of composure at how abysmal that news makes you feel.

The anxious ringing in your head eventually subsides and you remove your hands from your face. You're somehow still surprised to see that the officers stayed for however long it took for you to be able to fake okay.

"I need to go home." you admit quietly more to yourself than to them. You don't articulate that you just want to blanket cocoon on your sofa while Jake silently assures you that everything is going to be fine.

Your hands quiver slightly at the reality that he might not have waited for you; your home might not even be your home anymore.

Thoughts torrent your mind before you finally muster the courage to ask the room what date it is.

"April the 8th" The police lady answers.

"W-w-what year is it?" You speak up. The police man standing silently in the doorway looks horrified at the prospect that you might not know that but he interjects and answers you anyway.

"Shit." You respond in momentary disbelief that it's been that long.

I mean it felt like forever but I had convinced myself it had been a couple of months and i'll go home to everything the same.

"Jake thinks I've been dead for four years?" tears flood your eyes and your voice breaks, for the first time in years it's not from disuse.

How the fuck am I meant to go home after that amount of time?

If he hasn't moved onto someone else, surely he would've at least mourned you. If he's said goodbye to you like that how is it fair to suddenly reappear?

None of this is fucking fair.

Ghost should be here too.

*

Jake POV

Jake's heart drops to the floor as he carefully opens your room door to reveal an empty bed. From the haphazard sheets and wires flung across the room, he knows that no one has taken you into surgery without consulting him.

You're still in fight or flight mode.

He discards his unopened sandwich on the table and runs to the nurse's station.

"Room 26 - where is she?" Jake asks the guy behind the desk.

"She asked to self discharge; she's gone." he shrugs.

"She's gone?" Jake clarifies.

"Yep. If you can convince her to come back to hospital I think that would be in her best interest." He responds.

Five minutes - I was gone for five fucking minutes. Jake flings himself down the stairs, running at full speed to the exit.

He forces himself to stop when he's out of the hospital. He glances over everyone in the immediate vicinity.

You have to be here somewhere. And yet you're not here.

Where on earth would you go?

After all this time would you go home?

Home is fucking miles away - how would you get there with no phone and no money?

Jake's heart pounds in his chest as he walks to his car. He walks at a snail's pace so that he can check everyone that crosses his path isn't you.

I'll find you. I promise I'll find you.

Part 7

Masterlist

Tags:

@inthestars-underthesun

@rainy-darling

@emma8895eb

@tgmreader

@ems-alexandra

@djs8891

@els-marvelvsp

@lets-turn-and-burn

#jake seresin #tgm #top gun #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #hangman angst #top gun au #top gun x reader #top gun hangman #hangman #top gun fic #top gun maverick #tgm fic #tgm x reader #tgm au #jake x reader #top gun imagine #tgm imagine #hangman fanfiction #hangman seresin

[sweetlittlegingy]

What If

☑︎Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Sweet Nothings Masterlist

☑︎ Pairing: Jake Seresin x Y/n Seresin (Mitchell)

☑︎ Word Count: 4 k

☑︎ Warnings: Infertility, IVF, Adoption, Dad!Jake, Teacher/Mom!Reader, Kindergarteners, bad foster parents, child neglect, fluffy dagger squad, Poppa Mav

☑︎ A/n: Holy shit, I had the hardest time writing this. Life has not been kind lately in the school sense and health sense, but I still wanted to give you guys something. I hope that my month long stent has made it so you won't read it. I really appericate the love that you all have been giving me. I can't promise that updates are going to become a regular thing as of yet, but will be trying my hardest. Love you all ♥︎

☑︎Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

The pitter-patter of feet running down the hallway has you looking up from the fruit bowl you're curating, to glance over your shoulder and catch sight of Laine running toward you as Bradley chases her. Her tiny body clings to your bottom half as she tries to squish in between you and the cabinet.

“Chicken, nooooo!” her small form shakes in laughter as he bends down at your side and pokes at her.

“I was promised a princess.”

Bradley’s voice tries to lower an octave though does the complete opposite and rises to a high squeak that makes you break out in laughter. Your heart swells at the sight, Bradley would make a wonderful uncle. He was already the best brother you could have asked for and since yesterday on base, he had quite literally had Laine on his hip or playing together at every moment.

Gray was never far away, though he tended to stay at neither Bob, Jake, or Javy’s side. You were so used to Gray being attached to you that seeing him interact so much with the squad was startling. You miss your little shadow, though seeing the way that he looked at Jake now was something that you would love to witness daily. Jake had told you that they just talked about planes, but you could see that it meant so much more to both of them.

The munchkin between your legs moves again, darting from Bradley’s outstretched hand as she giggles in excitement.

“I’m Jakey’s princess,” The reply stumps Bradley momentarily, long enough for her little hands to find your own. “Miss CeCe save me!”

Her hands pat at your tummy in a little rhythm as she bounces lightly on her toes. You gently slide the fruit bowl back and lower down to grab the munchkin before Brad can make another grab for her. Her small form bounces in your hold as she wraps her arms around your neck and nuzzles in.

“Run Miss CeCe!” She eyes you in excitement and you drop your gaze back to Bradley, before giving him a smirk. Your hips swivel as you turn and your arms clutch onto a giggling Laine as you run away.

“Get the fruit bowl, Chicken!”

You hear a playful huff at the name, though you’re past the hallway entryway and heading for the back deck before Bradley has a chance to yell back at you. The dimness in the hall is lit by the shining sun outside and you can see the rest of the squad lounging around in chairs while Javy and Jake bicker about grilling.

You hadn’t planned to have a BBQ, though this morning when Bradley and Nat showed up banging on the door with coolers and dessert you didn’t have any other choice.

No, you really had no other choice.

The pair had pushed through the door before you could even question them and told you that they were only here to see the twins. They then followed that up by saying that everyone was coming by, well everyone but Javy, he had spent the night after having a movie fort/sleepover night and had yet to leave. The pair had ushered you that you didn’t need to worry because Bob and Mickey were making sure to grab all the required fixings from the store so you wouldn’t have to worry.

Though you had instantly started making a fruit bowl with the strawberries, grapes, kiwi, and pineapple that you already had. The twins had helped you wash them and then used small star cookie cutters to cut shapes in the pineapple. Though once everyone had finally arrived the pair had automatically gravitated toward the outside. Bradley had also casually thrown in the fact that your dad, Penny, and Amelia were coming over as well. After your dad had met them, he instantly wanted Penny and Amelia to meet the twins.

You brush a small strand of hair from Madelaine’s face, which causes her to give you a sweet smile and then kiss your cheek. That had started last night when you were putting the twins to bed, even though they ended up in yours again during the night. The two of them were in a late-night Disney movie hazy that left them half asleep, which in turn led them to tell both you and Jake that they loved you. It had made your heart stop. You knew that you should be placing boundaries, but so many were already crossed, and Jake and you both loved them so much already.

 Your hand comes up to shield your eyes as the sun nearly blinds you. You didn’t know how it was 78 degrees at the beginning of December, but you weren’t complaining one bit. Your hold on Laine loosens as her small form wiggles until she’s free of you to run across the deck.

“Pop Pop! Ms. CeCe fought Chicken off.” She squeals in delight as your father catches her and tosses her small form in the air. That was also new, Jake had called your father Pops last night and Laine ran with it from there. Now both Gray and Laine were calling him Pop Pop, and neither your father nor anyone else had even spoken of the possibility of having them stop and having them call him Mav instead.

Your glance leaves the pair as they sit down next to Penny and Amelia, the mother and daughter duo instantly fell in love with the twins. So much so that your little sister had asked if she could babysit them sometime. She had been so happy and excited that you couldn’t tell her that you didn’t know if they would ever be back to the house.

A sigh leaves your chest as you cast your eyes around the deck to look at the group of important people in your life, though you can’t seem to find one of the most important ones. Gray wasn’t anywhere in your line of sight, and while you knew he was somewhere in the yard, that didn’t stop your breath from hitching. A pinch to your back makes you jump, while Bradley laughs and moves passed you with the fruit salad. You bat your hand at him, playfully glaring at him as he passes.

You’re still looking for Gray when you catch Jake’s eyes, he then gives you a small tip of the head out to the lawn and causes you to venture over to look out at the yard. A smile rests on your face as you lean against the railing of the deck to watch Bob, Mickey, Nat, and Gray as they lay on the lawn watching the sky. Gray’s hand shoots up causing your own eyes to shoot to the sky as a jet passes overhead. You only hear pieces of the conversation, something about cloud coverage, altitude, and flight pattern prediction, but it makes you smile all the same. Gray finally had people that would understand and listen to him, instead of brushing him off and not believing a word he said. Because as Janice had so kindly told you during a conference, “Children aren’t that smart, stop feeding into his fantasy.” The woman had riled you up to the point where you skipped over the last half of the packet, already knowing that she wasn’t listening to a thing you said about Grayson, and practically pushed her out the door.

The hands that wined around your waist and grasped onto the railing in front of you, have you relaxing back into the familiar chest. Jake’s chin settles on your shoulder after giving your cheek a small kiss causing the weight of your body to sink further into the comforting hold. You both sigh, and the mutual feeling of peace and fulfillment passes through the two of you.

“They blend in seamlessly.” Jake’s breath heats your neck, and you can’t help but to smile at the comment because it was true. They fit into your little family perfectly, and you were going to soak up every moment you had this weekend.

“I don’t want it to be over.” Jake’s hands wrap around you as you say it, and squeeze you gently. “I don’t know how I’m just going to let them go back there.” Your voice is heavy with pain that neither one of you acknowledge, instead, hoping to remain in this moment.

The tightness in your chest relieves, as neither of you can comment when you hear a whistle ring out that causes everyone to look over at Javy. He stands by the grill, with Laine on his hip as she silently waits for everyone’s attention. Javy smiles down at the small girl as she watches the group of you bouncing from excitement in his hold. Her eyes move from the group and up to Javy as the group quiets down to listen. He gives her a tiny nod that has a smile breaking out on not only her face but yours as well.

“The food is done.” Laine’s voice rings out through the backyard, but before anyone can make their way to the grill Javy whispers something else in her ear to say. “Ummm... Javy said he cooked everything, and Jakey didn’t help and that he’s the best cook.”

The comment causes everyone but Jake to laugh. A dramatic sigh falls from his lips as he steps out from behind you, only taking one step closer to the pair. You giggle as Jake clutches at his heart, eyes wide and never leaving Laine’s, before slipping to his knees beside you.

“You wound me, little darlin’.” His voice is strained and causes the surrounding group to gently smile at him. It didn’t go unnoticed how much Jake loved the twins already, and while they never mentioned the fact to you or Jake, it didn’t stop the squad from talking amongst themselves.

Jake barely has time to catch Laine as she runs into his arms and clutched onto him. She leans into his ear and whispers words that you can’t make out that have the both of them smiling. They must be good if the mega smile not resting on Jake’s face can tell you anything. Jake slowly rises to stand up while the pair laugh together, both of them looking at Javy in a teasing manner.

“You two keeping secrets now?” Your voice is questioning and has Madelaine leaning into you.

“I didn’t wanna hurt Javy’s feelings, Ms. CeCe. Jakey is still the best.” A giggle bubbles from you as she gives you a toothy grin, before you both then look at Javy and you can’t help but laugh even more at his wondering stare.

A weight settles against your leg and causes you to glance down to find Gray, already looking back up at you. His blonde locks house a few pieces of grass that you pick out, while his finger wraps around your belt loop.

“Hi, Sweetpea.” His blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight as a quiet hi is said back to you. “You ready to eat?”

You get back a small nod as he stays attached to your hip, watching the surrounding crowd from the designated safe zone. While Gray had opened up immensely to the group, he still ended up at your side whenever the group became too much. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable, but his social anxiety and depleted self-esteem caused him to doubt his worth, especially around people he didn’t know well.

You hadn’t noticed that Jake put down Laine, though as his hands come around Gray to lift him in the same manner, he had with Laine just moments ago your heart swells. The sound of his laugh echoed through the yard as the group milled around getting food and talking, though your eyes could leave to pair.

A perfect father-son duo. You could have told anyone that the twins were your kids, not just from how they were almost identical copies of Jake. But anyone that saw how they interacted, and the amount of love that passed between them from minuscule actions and words alone.

“Come on you two, before Roos eats everything.” Your voice is teasing as you pull the pair along with you to grill to follow Laine, who already had your dad piling a mountain of food on a plate for her. Your eyes don’t miss the two different pieces of cake and brownie that cover most of the surface of the plate. You shake your head at your father, just now realizing how tightly Laine has him wrapped around her finger.

Your comment finally gained a reaction from Bradley, as a small kid playing ball lands against your back and makes you yelp before turning. You give him a smile that only a little sister can give to her older brother, followed by your tongue peeking out in a taunt.

You would give anything to stay in this moment with this group of people, your family, forever.

...

You finish putting the last dish away from the washer and wipe down the counter as the clock strikes 8:00. Signaling that it was in fact the twin’s bedtime, well the one that you had given them. Neither Janice nor Ed said if they had a nighttime routine, though you were sure that it wasn’t that they forgot to mention it. No, from what you knew, the pair of them didn’t care so long as the twins didn’t disturb them and stayed in their room.

Wiping your hand one last time, you slowly make your way down the hall in search of the three individuals that consumed your every waking thought. You glance at the guest room and the perfectly made bed, knowing that the twins wouldn’t be sleeping in there tonight either. Only to venture future down the hall when you hear the near-silent humming coming from your bedroom. The dimming sun no longer lights your house and the warm glow coming from the lamp in your room just barely reaches your outline as you settle against the door frame.

Jake sits in the middle of the bed wearing a pair of sweats and tee-shirt that he had slipped on earlier when you sent him to take a shower while you did a couple pages of homework with the twins. He then had the duty of wrangling the two of them into the bath and making sure that they didn’t flood the bathroom floor like they had on you last night. You had disappeared at their request for bubbles and when you came back, nearly half of the tub water was on the floor. You had tried so hard to appear cross with them, though, at the sight of the sheepish smiles they gave you, your heart had overflown with love. You weren’t going to stop the pair of them from doing something that wasn’t dangerous, because it made a small mess. You knew that the carefree spirit that encased them wasn’t something that they were normally allowed to do.

From the looks of it though, tonight had defiantly gone in Jake’s favor. Not only from his dry pajamas but the fact that both Madelaine and Grayson had both found their places in bed next to him without a second thought. That they both felt a sense of peace and protection from Jake’s presence.

The three of them were a sight that warmed your heart beyond compare and made you curse yourself for leaving your phone on the kitchen table, missing the picture-perfect moment. In the middle of Jake’s lap, Laine sits as he braids her hair into two little French braids that just reach her shoulders. While Gray lays behind them cuddling your pillow, eyes fluttering open and closed as he tries to stay awake.

“Your sisters would be happy to know you can still braid hair.” Your voice floats through the room; Gray just barely looks at you only to give you a tiny smile, as Laine twists the finished braid around her finger trying to hide the yawn that slips passed her lips.

“I would hope that ten years of braiding their hair for volleyball whenever mom was late for a game, would have stuck with me.” His laugh makes you smile as you watch the pair of them momentarily. Jake had fallen into the dad role easily, and while you both were so happy to have the twin, you worried about how they would handle having to go back to Janice and Ed’s house Monday.

Jake's eyes lift to you while his fingers work seamlessly back and forth, he could always tell when something was on your mind. The snap of the final tiny elastic getting wrapped around the end of the braid, has you looking back up at the flawless braid. Jake’s arms softly wrap around Laine to lay gently squeezes at her waist, as her small hands rub tiredly at her eyes. She leans back in his hold, snuggling up to him as her eyes start to droop like Gray’s.

“I think Roos and Nat tuckered them out with that last game of tag.” You laugh lightly thinking about the sight of Bradley holding each of the twins in an arm, and running away from Nat.

“I’m sure that they’re just as tired, Rooster probably fell asleep on his couch and didn’t even make it to his bed.” You laugh at Jake’s comment because you know for a fact that Bradley fell asleep on the couch from the picture Bob sent you an hour ago.

 Jake glances down at the weight against his chest, Laine turns slightly as she sighs and fully relaxes to cuddle in closer. She holds onto Jake’s black tee shirt with one hand while to other grasps onto her ocean blanket, falling into sleep like it was a warm hug. Jake slowly lifts her, which causes both of her hands to wrap around his neck and his to rub at her back. He whispers soothing sounds as his hand glides up and down her back, helping her relax again. Jake is quick to move her before she can settle in too much though, not wanting to wake the munchkin up from setting her down. He easily turns around with her in his hold and lays her down against his pillow across from Gray.

Her small body lays encased by the surrounding blankets as she snuggles in closer and sighs as Jake tucks the duvet under her chin and kisses her forehead. Jake moves over to tuck in Gray as well as you gently brush the stray baby hairs from Laine’s face and gently kiss her head. Followed by you then tucking and kissing Gray as well, before you sneak into the bathroom to change into your PJs while Jake heads to the living room.

You find Jake laid out on the sofa, hands behind his head with two steaming cups of tea sitting on the coffee table. He gives you a dopy smile that makes your heart beat just a bit faster, before crawling into his open arms. Your legs rest around his waist and your head settles on his chest to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart.

Neither of you moves as you watch the sunset through the massive living room window that faces the Pacific. Jake’s hand slowly slips into your hair and runs his fingers through it gently without even realizing it. Though the small moan of relief causes him to chuckle in realization, before kissing the top of your head and resuming.

“We could do it you know.” His voice is tired and there’s a deep sound of longing intertwined with the words. You hum in question, happy to listen, but far too comfortable to lift your head from his chest and have a conversation.

“The twins; we could apply for adoption.”

His words hang in the air, sure you both had thought and talked about it over and over. Though there was something in Jake’s tone that was different this time. This wasn’t your Jakey that you could tease and easily rial up. No, this was Jacob. The man that got in a fistfight with one of your mother’s ex-boyfriends after he made a backhanded comment about your lack of pregnancy. The man that would protect the people that he loved, even if it meant putting himself in danger. He was serious, so serious that you half wondered if he had already been looking into the adoption process that the state of California had in place.

“Baby –”

“I’m serious darlin’. They are in every single thought I have about our future; I can’t even fathom a life without them anymore.” Jake’s hand slips from your hair and now both of them wrap around you. He clings to you, and you slowly realize that his tense chest and tight hold on you are in fear of your reaction to him wanting to adopt the twins. Your heart aches, you knew how much both of them meant to you. But hearing Jake tell you out loud that he didn’t see a future that didn’t include the twins, officially confirms just how much you both want the twins.

Knowing that is conversation deserved more than just your muffled words against Jake’s chest you slowly sit up, still on Jake’s lap but now able to see each other’s faces. You both could read each other like an open book and though you were positive that Jake was being sincere, you had to see the look in his eyes. You had to be absolutely sure before you let the idea blossom into a reality.

“Adopting them isn’t going to be easy, Jake. Janice and Ed are going to throw a fit because they want to keep getting their monthly check.” Your voice is gentle but firm, “And I hate to even say it, but we have to think about the fact that there are two of them. We planned for one baby, Jake. Can we financially even take on them and give them the life that they deserve?”

Jake's hand moves from your waist to brush against your cheek and causes you to lean farther into him. He knows that your reluctance is only because you’re afraid that you aren’t good enough to be their mom, a mom in general. You didn’t have the breakdowns a lot, but when you did, they were bad. And no matter how much he assured you, you were terrified that the universe wasn’t giving you a child because you weren’t worthy.

Jake’s other hand finds your cheek as well to tilt your head back up. Your chin and eyes had fallen, but Jake needed you to realize that you deserved a child more than anyone.

“Darlin’ we are more than financially stable to take them on. I’m teaching now and missions are rare. I want them to be ours.” Your head nods in his hold but he can feel the cogs in your head turning.

“Honey, look at me.” Your eyes lift and Jake’s heart cracks to see your waterline filled with tears. “You deserve to be a momma more than anyone I know. Maybe things worked out the way they did because some higher power knew that there would be two twin terrors that would need us just as much as we need them.”

A tear falls from your eyes and Jake is quick to brush it away. “You think?” Your voice is small and broken, though you trust Jake more than anyone else and if he said this was the family that both of you deserved and needed, you would believe him.

“I know, darlin’.”

Your face tucks into Jake’s neck and the tiny laugh of joy you give him, makes his arms tighten around as a smile forms on his lips. Your voice is muffled, but Jake hears you perfectly. “We’re gonna make them ours.”

“They’re already ours, darlin’. We’re just gonna make it official now.”

#Sweet Nothings Series #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #top gun #jake seresin x reader #gingy writes #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman x reader #hangman x reader #tgm au #tgm imagine #tgm fic #tgm #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin series #hangman seresin #hangman top gun #hangman imagine #sweetlittlegingy writes #sweet nothings series

[themorriganwitch]

Jake Seresin NSFW Alphabet

18+ below minors do not interact

Aftercare (What they are like after sex): Listen, he was a fuckboy until he met you. So, there was barely anything post sex except for a short peck on the lips before he left and spend the night curled up in his own bed. When the two of you started dating, he was mighty overchallenged with you pouting at him, cause he did not wrap you up into his strong arms immediately after he pulled out. It took him a little while to fully let loose and be intimate with you besides sex, but after a serious conversation where you both honestly talked about your needs, wants and concerns, he tried his best to fully satisfy you. 

Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):  On himself definitely his upper body. He spends a lot of time in the gym and takes a lot of pride in his looks. But no matter how much he loves his body himself, he loves it even more when he sees you watching him at the beach or at the gym, eyes ranking over his body while you absently bite your lower lip. Jake teases you enormous for it, but secretly he loves it. 

On you he has a thing for your ass, your boobs, and your eyes. Your ass because he is big on physical touch and always needs to have a hand on you, preferably on your nice ass no matter if its thick and juicy or small and cute. Your eyes cause it’s what caught him first when you looked at him all those years ago on a Friday night at the hard deck. Your boobs because there is nothing better for him then laying on top of you after a particular stressful day at work and burry his face in your boobs while you play with his hair. 

Cum (Anything to do with cum): He is not as messy as Rooster is, like he would not feel the need to mark you up with his cum. He either likes it clean inside of a condom, or if you are on the pill, he is obsessed with cumming inside of you. Also highly believes that spitters are quitters. 

Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs): Hangman has two. 

It took him ages to open up about this to you, but as soon as he did, he felt an instant relief. Jake just can’t stand the thought someone could find out that the cocky, handsome aviator has a thing for sucking your nipples. He doesn’t know why he likes it so much, and he honestly does not want to find out but something about it is incredibly comforting and calming for him. 

He has not told anyone yet but sometimes he fantasizes to be watched by someone else while he fucks you senseless. And if he says someone, he means Rooster, because he would love to see the jealousy in Bradley’s brown eyes while he slowly thrusts into you and makes you feel oh so good, letting his wingman know that he will never be able to satisfy someone as good as Jake Seresin can. (The One Shot to this Headcanon can be read here)

Experience (How experienced are they?): It’s Jake Seresin we are talking about. He has been around the block. Probably five times. But I would say that he is not that experienced when it comes to real connections and intimacy, being vulnerable is something he needs to learn with you. 

Favorite Position (pretty self explanatory)

 Everything where he can see your face. 

Mirror Sex:  Ride him in reverse cowgirl position while the two of you look at each other in the mirror – pure heaven.

Missionary: He is obsessed with seeing all those expressions on your face. How your eyes roll in the back of your head when he hits that spot inside your velvet walls or how your pretty mouth forms a silent O whenever you shatter around him and squeeze him just right. 

Doggy Style: On the rare occasions when he does not need to see your face as much as he needs to fuck you deep into the mattress, doggy style is his go to. He has a perfect grip on your hips and he can spank your ass occasionally while he hears your whimper beneath him. 

Goofy (Are they rather serious oder humorous in the moment?): The most you will ever get out of him is small smile when you try to crack a joke to lighten the mood, even though you should know better. When it comes to Sex your man is on a mission and nothing else. He will do everything to satisfy you in every way possible and that’s why he is determined to stay serious. 

Hair (How well groomed are they?): He is completely shaved in down under. Jake just prefers this look for himself, cause it fits his pretty boy aesthetic. For you he would also prefer you to be hairless, but he would never pressure you into a certain way how to treat your body. As long as you’re a happy and confident within yourself, he is a happy guy. 

Intimacy (How are they during the moment?): He had plenty of Sex without ever feeling really intimate with someone. He spends all his time to build his career and never really saw a need to get emotional close to someone. Until he met you. After he experienced loving sex for the first time in his life, he got absolutely addicted. I highly doubt he could ever go back to his fuckboy years, after he experienced real emotional closeness and intimacy with you.

Jack off (pretty self explanatory): He prefers the real deal, but he is not above it. Sometimes he is deployed, or you are simply not in the mood for sex, so he would jack off. 

Kink (some kinks of theirs): Hangman has several kinks (copied from my Dagger Squad Kink Headcanons)

Breeding kink – that man wants to see your belly round and your tits swollen. Could be the southern boy from a huge family in him or just him in general. No matter what – that man wants to see you pregnant with his child. 

Cockwarming – Jake being the touchiest human on planet earth loves nothing more that feeling your walls hugging him perfectly close, especially after coming right back from a long deployment. 

Edging – He’s a teasing piece of shit. Nothing gets him more going that hearing you beg for his cock. 

Exhibitionism – slipping his hand between your thighs while sitting at dinner with Rooster and his girlfriend knowing only, he can feel the wet patch on your panties even though you are in a room full of people, that’s probably the best dinner he ever had. 

Brat Taming – Mouth ‘Make me’ at him, after he admonished you several times for you teasing him on a navy ball and will fully loose his shit as soon as you come home. 

He also has a thing for degradation and humiliation

Location (Favorite Place to do the deed): Hangman is pretty open and risky. He has railed you in the bathroom of the hard deck and several clubs already, as well as at the beach and his car. He never would do it on base though or anywhere else where someone of his admirals could see the two of you.

Motivation (What turns them on): Competition. Tell him your Ex-Boyfriend was the best sex you ever had, you will regret this two hours later and won’t be able to walk for the next couple of days. Watch Coyote doing push-ups at the gym for a second to long, he will rail you at home until you won’t be able to spell Coyote correctly.  Tell him after girls’ night how Phoenix rhapsodized about how her boyfriend make her cum three times by giving expertly good head, he will make you call her right after he doubled this sum, so you have to tell her with shaky voice that no one will ever be as good in bed as Jake Seresin is. 

No (Something they would not do): He would never share you with someone else. Hangman likes to think about the idea to be watched while fucking you, but he would never ever let someone else touch you the way only he is allowed to. He is way too possessive for this. 

Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skills): That man is skilled af when it comes to giving head. He knows all the tricks; he spends his time to learn your body language and he has you squirming and shaking beneath him within seconds as soon as he puts his mouth on you. But I would say that he can get quite egoistical when it comes to giving oral. Like he does not do it on purpose but if you don’t remind him from time to time, you will get down on him way more than he goes on you. If you remind him though, he will feel bad enough to spend literally hours between your legs, long enough to beg him to let you go because you are so overstimulated but satisfied. 

When it comes to receiving head, as said before he highly believes spitters are quitters, but he would never be mad at you if you would feel uncomfortable to swallow his cum. 

Pace (pretty self explanatory): He can do slow. He can do passionate. He can do hard. He can do rough. Whatever you need or want it’s yours. 

Quickie (pretty self explanatory): Accepting the challenge to make you cum in a spare amount of time? He is absolutely down. He loves the rush; he loves the intensity, and he loves the risk (if you are doing it at a semipublic place)                                       

Roles (Which role do they take during sex): He mostly is a Mean Dom. Jake just has a major thing for degradation and humiliation. Everything consensual of course. I do see him having sub tendencies, which he slowly explores with you. Being vulnerable is not easy for him, but he trusts you enough to let you know this side of him.

Stamina (how many rounds are they able to go?): He is fit, he eats very well and takes good care of himself. He definitely can go for as many rounds the both you want until the both of you are left very satisfied. 

Turn off (What turns them off) : Bad hygiene or someone who is overly lazy (as long as these are not consequences of mental health struggles) He spends most of his time either to work on himself or he works his ass off to get a promotion at work. Someone who has no ambitions or does not care about themselves enough to treat them good, is simply a major turn off for him. 

Unfair ( How big of a tease are they?): Biggest tease on planet earth. He will do literally anything to see you all flustered, cheeks slightly red and eyes wide in disbelief. No matter if he would send you dirty texts with some nice Ab pics while you are out for brunch with your friends or if he fingers you beneath the desk while out for lunch with the dagger squad but pulls out his fingers right before you come – he will always find a way to get you hot and needy for him. And he will tease the living shit out of you for it. 

Volume (How loud/vocal are they): He is big on praise. He loves to tell you who good you take him and what a good little slut you are for him. Besides this he loves to hear you beg. This man will literally have you beg for everything. You want his cock all down your throat? You better ask nicely. You want to cum on his fingers? You better go on your knees with doll eyes and beg.

Wild Card (their wild card): He is extremely competitive, which also shows in his Sex life. You probably never had a more intense orgasm than the day, you spend with Jake, Bradley, and his girlfriend in a cabin in the woods. Even though you and Jake already finished and were all cuddled up, slowly drifting into sleep – the moment he heard Rooster railing his girlfriend in the room next to yours his competitive side was awaken and it did not take him more than 5 minutes to get you all worked up and thrusting into you so deeply that you could not help yourself but to scream his name.  No need to say the smirk he wore the next day at breakfast table, because he pulled three more orgasms out of you while Bradley made his girlfriend only come twice, annoyed the hell out of everyone but Jake. 

X-Ray: (What's going on in those pants?): He is about average length, but he is deliciously thick with a prominent vein on the bottom side of his cock. His tip has a pretty pink tone. 

Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): High. Extremely High. If he can get his hands on you – he will. Whenever and wherever you let him, just sign him that you are in the mood, and he is ready to go.

Zzzzzzz (How fast do they fall asleep after it?): He will always make sure you are being taken care of after sex. After the two of you had your conversation about what you want and crave after Sex, he will always make sure you get what you need. No matter how stressful his day was, he will wait until your head meets the pillow and he hears your sweet snores until he falls asleep himself. 

#tgm #top gun maverick #tgm smut #top gun maverick smut #Jake Seresin #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin smut #Jake Sersin imagine #Jake Seresin x Reader #Jake Seresin x y/n #Jake Seresin one shot #Jake Seresin fluff #tgm imagine #dagger squad #top gun maverick imagine

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Ticking time bomb - Jake Seresin Imagine x bestie reader

A/N: okay so you guys loved protective Jake in the first blurb, so here’s some more of him. This can be a stand alone or read as part 2 to Her protector

Warnings: cursing, verbal abuse, mentions of physical abuse, and Jake being protective again

The next week following the family day cookout were beyond tense in your household. You lived with your current boyfriend Nathan, and the fighting the two of you were doing just kept getting worse and worse. You were sleeping on the couch almost every night, you were crying yourself to sleep, and you were in a hole of despair. You had barely seen Jake since he stood up for you at the cookout, Nathan making sure he stayed far away from you. It absolutely broke your heart, but you felt trapped with absolutely no other choice.

It was a typical Saturday night, Nathan was out with his squad and you were at home watching a movie by yourself. You were curled up on the couch watching the notebook when he stumbled through the front door drunk as can be. “Hey, baby..” he started, trying to lean against the wall. “I saw your piece of shit ex best friend tonight. You’ll be happy to know he seems totally fine without you.” The words stung as you sat up, tears rolling down your cheeks. They couldn’t be true, could they? There’s no way Jake would just not care about you like that.

“You’re lying.” The words were a whisper that barely registered, your mind questioning if you even asked the words out loud. “I’m not. He is completely fine without you.” He had a shit eating grin on his face that absolutely broke you. You let out a shaky breath and unlocked your phone, a picture of you on Jake’s back instantly coming up. You two were in high school in this picture. Jake had just got done playing in a championship game and they had won and his mom had wanted a picture of the two of you to celebrate. You had missed school for two whole days to watch him play and the two of you had the biggest grins on your faces. He couldn’t be right. There’s no way.

You typed up a text to Jake asking how he could care so little about you and the response was clearly him being flabbergasted. What on earth are you talking about?

That sealed your fate with Nathan. Him, lying to your face about your friendship with Jake. “Fuck you.” That was all you said as you walked out to your car, tears rolling down your cheeks. It has been bad this week, but this was the lowest point. You felt so isolated and alone. Your phone rang repeatedly with calls from Jake, all of them going unanswered as you sat in your car numb and disconnected. What even was going on anymore?

You just sat in your car in the driveway , watching the rain pour down your windshield. It was like Mother Nature was in tune with your emotions and she was playing with the weather. You felt your phone vibrate again and you checked it, seeing Jake’s name pop up from a text message. Fuck it, I’m coming over.

And with that, you knew you had no choice in the matter. You sat for what felt like seconds, but you knew it was longer than that. You saw Jake’s headlights come into view and you numbly opened your door, seeing the boy immediately come into view. “Oh, Peach..” his voice was quiet, a tone only you got to see. He looked you over quietly, making sure there wasn’t a single scratch on you. His nostrils were flaring with anger as he took you by the hand and carefully helped you out of your car and into his truck.

No words were shared as you laid your head against the window, your eyes watching as the lights of the town blurred by. You closed your eyes and managed to try and keep your breath steady and normal.

Jake kept his eyes going from the road to you, his chest aching in a massive way. This was his fault. He introduced you to Nathan. It had ruined his entire plan for that night at the party. He had his friends in on it and he was going to have them pick you two for seven minutes in heaven and he was going to confess his feelings to you in the closet, but of course, Nathan took you over that night. He let out an audible sigh that got your attention, eyes shifting over to his as he stopped at a stop light. “He said you didn’t care about me anymore.” Your voice was quiet, barely a whisper that broke the quiet tension between the two of you. The blonde boy scoffed, looking at you incredulously, “Please. You are one of the only people in the world I care about besides my mom and sisters.” You felt a blush rise up in your cheeks as you looked down at your lap. You knew it was true.

“I know,” The words were a bit stronger than your last ones, a small smile gracing your lips as the two of you pulled into the driveway of the house that Jake shared with Bradley, the bronco parked in the other slot in the driveway. “Can we watch the losers?” It was your favorite movie and it would cheer you up instantly. He agreed and the two of you made your way into the house. You curled up on the couch under a blanket next to Jake.

You were watching the movie one second and then the next Jake felt a weight on his arm and you were knocked out. He chuckled quietly and attempted to keep watching the movie until he eventually passed out on the couch next to you.

The two of you slept like that for a few hours until you heard raised voices and you stirred from your sleep slowly. “She’s not here, just leave.” That was Bradley’s voice. “Seriously, man. Get the fuck out.” That was Jake’s voice. “I know she’s here, I saw your truck in my driveway Fiona hit.” And there was Nathan. You let out a shaky breath as you finally came too and stood up from the couch, it squeaking quietly under you.

“Baby, I know you’re in there.” You could hear Nathan and he sounded like the man you fell in love with, your heart shattered. “Please come home. I’ve been up worried sick about you all night.” You could feel your throat constricting and you could feel Bradley and Jake both looking at you. You looked down at the floor, thinking.

You could see Jake wanted to approach you. He wanted to tell you to stay, but he didn’t. It wasn’t his place. “Please baby girl, I’ll stop drinking for you, I promise.” And those were the words that did it, you took a few steps forward and moved between the two aviators and into Nathan’s waiting embrace. He kissed your forehead, apologizing profusely. You could visibly see Jake’s heart break as the two of you walked away, Nathan promising to never hurt you again.

However, little did you and Jake know, that you would show up at his house just days later black and blue and needing him more than ever.

#jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin imagines #jake seresin angst #jake seresin imagines #hangman imagines #hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #tgm one shot #tgm imagines #tgm imagine #tgm fanfiction #tgm angst #jake seresin one shot #jake seresin blurb #tgm blurb #jake seresin fluff #hangman x you

[madsnowstorm]

everything | j. seresin

beyond - leon bridges ft. luke combs

summary : jake loves weddings. you hate them. shared revelations might just change your opinion

warnings - 18+, fem!reader, established relationship, FLUFF. so much fluff. not beta'd,

notes — happy valentine's day! here is a sickly sweet one for @roosterforme's 'love is in the air' challenge. like, so sweet.

Jake loved weddings. He always enjoyed a good reason to dress up, hair gelled just right and cufflinks perfectly in place. If he happened to be in Texas he’d have on his favorite pair of boots and a bolo tie. He loved dancing at the receptions. It didn’t matter if there was a live band or a DJ, Jake was always out on the dance floor. This was especially if there was line dancing involved. Then there was the cake. Jake’s one weakness in life was wedding cake. He could turn down any cookie, pie, or ice cream cone shoved in his face…But wedding cake? There was no holding him back…Except today, at this wedding, he could only focus on one thing. You.

You were sitting at a table that was right off the dancefloor. One shapely leg was thrown over the other, peeking out of the slit of your burgundy bridesmaid dress. Your bare foot was bouncing to the music and your eyes were trained on the bride and groom who were sharing their first dance. Jake’s eyes traveled quickly to Javy and his new wife, his childhood sweetheart, Leah, as they swayed to the rhythm. They did not care that over one hundred people were staring them down. The only thing capturing their attention was their partner. Jake only looked at them for a moment longer before letting his gaze drift back to you. His eyes were drawn to how soft and bright your skin looked. You looked soft and supple.He wanted to glide his hands over your bare shoulders and down your back. You were radiant...Like the sun. And he wanted to put that shit in a bottle and tuck it in his pocket.

God. You were so fucking beautiful. 

Funnily enough the two of you met at another wedding months ago. One of Javy’s and Leah’s friends from their youth was getting married and Leah was a part of the bridal party. Javy didn’t want to be alone and knowing that Jake was down to crash any wedding, brought the blond along. Jake wished he could say that he noticed you the moment you walked into the large event space. He wished he could tell you that he’d gotten tunnel vision when he saw you walking towards him. Wished that he could drone on and on to his future grandchildren about how the moment your eyes met his, he knew you were the one.

No. That didn’t happen. In fact, you were late to the ceremony and snuck in next to Javy. Javy’s body shook with laughter as you raised your hand in an awkward wave, cringing. Seconds later the ceremony started and his attention turned from you to the ceremony. He actually forgot that you were there until the ceremony was over and Javy was introducing you both. As you both sipped on drinks of your choice while the event space was being converted for the reception, the topic of work. You were extremely uninterested in the fact that he was a naval aviator. He attributed that to you knowing Javy for so long, but it did stump him a little bit. 

As he talked with you, he found himself trying to impress you. He wanted to make you smile, to make you laugh. He wanted to see you after this. It was different than it normally was. Typically when he left weddings he was going back to some hotel room with a girl on his arm and a pleasant buzz, and was gone by the next morning. You, though? You left before they even served the wedding cake, mentioning something about it getting late after looking at the delicate gold watch on your wrist. Jake did not understand. How could someone leave before having at least one slice of cake? 

In the moments it took for him to try and wrap his head around that unfathomable act, you’d made it to the parking lot. It only took a few moments for the blond to catch up to you, yelling your name and waving his hand to grab your attention. Standing by your compact SUV, he all but begged for your number. He could tell by the way you bit your bottom lip that you weren’t entirely sure about him. He was willing to let you go, but just as quick as you decided to leave, you also decided to give him a chance. Numbers were exchanged and drinks were planned.

Five months later led you to where you were today; you happily watching your friends on the dance floor and Jake longingly watching you. The song the band was currently playing transitioned into another. This song had a slightly peppier sound, but still had a slow rhythm. 

“The bride and groom would love to invite you to grab a partner and join them on the dance floor!” The lead singer announced before they began singing.

Jake made his way over to you, dodging people who were now walking around. Some were headed to the dancefloor, while others looked to be grabbing sweet snacks or drinks. There were some older couples that chose to stay seated, enjoying the sight of young love.  Your eyes were still on your friends, but now your body was beginning to sway with the new song. Jake thought that was good, because it meant it would not take much convincing to get you out on the dance floor. As Jake walked closer, he watched your eyes move from Javy and Leah, to him. Your smile widened and his heart stuttered.

__

You hated weddings. They were expensive and uncomfortable. The wedding industry was practically a crime against humanity and you could think of a million different things that could be purchased for the cost of a wedding. The food was never good and the wedding cake was always bland and usually dry. The only thing you could slightly be on board with were weddings that had an open bar. Leah was one of your childhood friends and it was only because you loved her and valued her friendship that you adopted the motto grin and bear it when you accepted the offer to be a bridesmaid. It also helped that Jake was just as much of this process as you were. 

He was the exact opposite of you. The man adored any reason to celebrate, weddings included. In moments he knew you were overwhelmed or just completely done with all the pomp and circumstance, he would always find a way to put a little joy in your heart. A wink here, a flirty touch there. Your boyfriend almost made you forget that you hated weddings.

“M’lady,” He asked, appearing behind you. You looked over your shoulder and basked in the beauty of the man in his dress whites. While he was far from the only one dressed in his military regalia, he was most certainly the best looking. Your gut filled with anticipation for what was going to come after the wedding. “Can I have this dance?” You lifted your finger to your chin, tapping it as though you were deep in contemplation. 

“I’m sorry, but I-” Jake didn’t let you finish your joke. He grabbed your free hand which was draped over your chair and pulled you up. It was clear the dance floor was his destination.

Other couples were swaying around the tiled door. You caught Leah’s eye and she smiled at you. Your friend looked beyond happy and incredibly in love. You were happy for her and Javy and wished them nothing but the best. Jake pulled you close as you took your spot near your friends. One hand was heavy on your hip, the other grasping one of yours. He held it close to his heart, letting both your hands rest on his chest.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” He remarked.

“Hmmm, maybe once or twice.” It was more than that. All throughout wedding party pictures he kept whispering compliments and promises in your ear. He made you feel like the most beautiful creature to have walked the earth. You could feel the rumble of a chuckle under the back of your hand.

“Anyone ever mention how funny you are?” It was now your turn to laugh. Jake’s only response was to shake his head. He got quiet for a moment, before asking another question. “Do you want to get married?” The question took you off guard, causing you to step on Jake’s toes.

“Are you proposing?” You hoped he couldn’t hear the nerves in your voice. The two of you had not talked about the future, completely fine to move at the snail's pace you’d been at.

“No, not at all.” Jake shook his head. “I just meant in general. Do you want to get married?” Was this really the time? Your heart was beating heavily against your chest. It wouldn’t be surprising if Jake could feel it.

“Do you want to get married?” Was your coy response.

“Don’t deflect. It’s a simple question.” Jake was an arrogant guy. It was one of the first things you noticed about him. He typically spoke with a teasing tone, but there was no hint of it now. He was serious. 

“Married to you or just married?” You matched his tone. This time you weren’t being playful and you needed this clarification  before you gave yours.

“Married to me.”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation, but the words left your mouth without permission. Part of you was scared that your feelings about the future wouldn’t be reciprocated. “Do you want to get married to me?” It was his turn for honesty, but as your eyes roamed over his face you knew your mind could not prepare you for his answer.

“I want everything with you, Darlin’.”

“Jake…” His name was no more than a whisper on your lips.

“I’m sorry if that is too early or if that scares you , but it’s the truth. I want marriage, yes, but I want you to meet my family. I want to make a family. I want a dog and a house. I want someone to come home at the end of hard days and long deployments. I want everything.” The only way you knew how to react was physically. As your lips met his, you didn’t have a single care about all the people around you.

“I love you.”

“I know, who doesn’t?” Your eyes narrowed and you pinched his hip. He playfully yelped. “Did I say that? I meant to say that I love you too.”

Maybe weddings weren’t so bad, after all.

#love is in the air tgm #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman fic #hangman imagine #hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #hangman x f!reader #jake hangman seresin x f!reader #jake seresin fluff #hangman fluff #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman imagine #tgm imagine #top gun maverick imagine #jake seresin fic

[xoxo-author]

What happens in Vegas, does not stay in Vegas

Hello! I am back! Work and the real world have been kicking my ass. not to mention writer's block! Anyway, here's a little story that I have been daydreaming about forever.

Jake Seresin x FemReader

Warnings: Language, shitty writing, mentions of drinking, suggestive, made up laws

There were four things I was sure of before I even opened my eyes this morning. 

1. I was going to have the worst hangover in the history of hangovers. 

2.  I was never drinking again.

3. Number 2 is a lie

4. I need to ask the hotel where they got their blankets because they seemed to be heated and weighted so I need one.

I couldn't remember what I drank, how much I drank last night. or what we even did. 

There was no doubt that coming to Vegas for a bachelor and bachelorette party would be crazy, I knew that as soon as I saw where we were going, but I didn't think we'd end up straight out of a scene from The Hangover. 

I lay there for a little while longer, trying to get up the nerve to open my eyes. I knew that once I did, my headache would set in and I don't think I was ready for that. 

After a few minutes, I felt myself starting to fall back asleep but before I could, the weight on top of me began to move. Panic rises through me as I thought it was a weighted blanket this whole time. 

Once my eyes adjust, my gaze lands on a very hungover, possibly still drunk, Jake Seresin sitting up on his knees. His hair was all over the place, nothing on but a pair of Calvin Klein briefs, hands rubbing his eyes. 

"What the fuck did we do last night?"

Jake startles, head whipping up to look at me, but recovers quickly. A smirk slides onto his face and he opens his mouth to say something but I quickly hold up my hand to stop him. I was in no mood to hear one of his comments. Taking in his attire, or lack thereof, my mind begins to race. 

My eyes widen as I quickly pull up the blanket that was covering my body. I was in one of Jake's t-shirts so that was a good sign but my relief was short-lived as I came to see that my underwear has seemingly gone mia. 

I push myself up to a sitting position, throwing my hands up to cover my face, "Do you remember anything from last night?"

"You mean, did we have sex?" 

Rolling my eyes behind my hands, "Yes, Hangman, did we have sex or not?" 

I didn't have to look at him to know that he was smirking, "Can you walk?" 

My hands fall away from my face, giving him the most confused face I could muster, "What does my ability to walk have to do with anything?" 

Leaning back on his hands, "Princess, if we had sex last night, there's no way you'd be able to walk this morning."

Closing my eyes, I let out a huge sigh, "Now is not the time for games, Hangman."

"I'm just telling you the truth, ask any of the girls I've taken home." 

I open my eyes to look at him, "There's not enough time in the world to go through that list." 

He rolls his eyes but says nothing else. 

As the silence rolls over the room, I let my eyes wander around. I was definitely in Hangman's room, his stuff was thrown everywhere, it smelled like him, and it had a different view of the strip than mine did. My attention is brought back to Hangman as he drags a hand down his face. My eyes are drawn to his fingers, specifically his ring finger, "Hangman, what's on your finger?"

His eyebrows furrow as he pulls his hand away from his face to look, "Is that a wedding ring?"

A black shiny band wraps around his finger. His ring finger.

"Who the hell did I marry?" 

A sinking feeling settles in my stomach as the words leave his mouth. Slowly, I look down at my hands that rested on my lap. I turn my hand so I could see the back of my hand, my eyes are immediately drawn to the ring that rested on my finger. My ring finger.

I look back up at Hangman, whose brows were furrowed and whose gaze was locked on the ring on my hand, "This is a joke right?"

Hangman didn't say anything, just continued to stare, so he was useless at the moment. 

Flinging the blanket off, I throw my legs off the side of the bed and push myself up. I head over to the dresser and begin to open the drawers, "Hangman, where are your underwear?'

Glancing over my shoulder, Hangman still sat on the bed staring at my empty spot. "Hangman!" 

He turns to look at me, a very confused look on his face. "I need a pair of underwear to wear so we can go find our friends who will hopefully tell us that this was just a joke and that they snuck in here and placed the rings on our fingers while we were sleeping."

He points over to the closet but doesn't say anything. I rush over and throw the doors open, quickly grabbing a pair of his boxers and pulling them on before heading to the bathroom. I put some toothpaste onto my finger before quickly "brushing" my teeth. 

Hangman had pulled on a pair of sweats and was pulling on a t-shirt when I walked out of the bathroom. 

Neither of us said a word as we made our way towards the front door where we find a note from Bob, saying to meet them in the buffet room.

All but throwing open the door, I quickly make my way down the hall and towards the elevator with Hangman trailing behind me. 

The words from my ex repeating in my head, if you get with anyone else I'll have no choice but... my thoughts were interrupted by the ding of the elevator.

The elevator ride seemed to go on forever. Neither Hangman nor I said anything to each other. It was like Hangman and I hated each other but we weren't friends either. I was introduced to the group through Coyote. Hangman had tried his usual tricks to get into my pants and I didn't fall for it. I think I was the only one who didn't fall for him and he wasn't used to it.

The lobby was already busting with people by the time we got here, I couldn't tell if people were going or if their night had just ended. 

Hangman and I begin to make our way towards the buffet room but we didn't get very far, "Mr. and Mrs. Seresin!" 

I turn my head and see the front desk lady looking in our direction.  I stared at her for a few seconds before bringing a finger up to point at me. She nods and enthusiastically waves us over.

I grab Hangman's arm and begin to drag him over to the front desk. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Seresin! Good morning!"

The lady's smile falters for a brief second but returns to its over-the-topness, "I was just about to give you a call! The chapel called and they requested that I copy of the marriage license be mailed to the address in San Diego and that it was successfully filed this morning!"

                                                              **********

The lawyer sets the marriage license down before leaning back in his chair, running a hand over his face, "To be honest, there is nothing we can do."

I'm pretty sure my eyes about fell out of my skull.

"There are laws in place here in San Diego, specifically towards those who get married in Vegas and shotgun weddings. Basically, to not waste the court's time, those who get married like you two did have to be married a full year before they can file for divorce."

I take a deep breath in, leaning my head against my hand, "So we can't get divorced for a year?"

Nodding, the lawyer leans forward, glancing back and forth between Hangman and me, "You will have to prove that you two really gave it a shot, and if at the end of the year, you don't feel the same then you will be granted a divorce. You do have to do the things married couples do like live together, attend therapy, go out, and whatever else they do. You will have random visits by a court-appointed person to ensure that you both are giving this a go. Any questions Mr. and Mrs. Seresin?"

#Jake Seresin #Hangman #Top Gun #Top Gun Maverick #TGM #Jake Hangman Seresin #TGM fic #tgm imagine #Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader #jake seresin fic #Hangman Fic #Hangman top gun #Hangman series

[waklman]

Glue Song (Pt. 2)

summary: you meet rooster and jake doesn’t know how to feel about it.

pairing: jake seresin x female reader

warnings: brief mention of death

a/n: more pining, friends to lovers, fluff x angst, rooster x hangman moment (?). part 3 comes next..!

word count: 2.2k

previous part | next part

Jake doesn’t know what gets on his nerves more. 

The fact that Javy insisted to go help you grab more cookies from the kitchen, leaving him to brood in his seat alone or the fact that he’s been painfully watching Rooster struggle to squeeze his Bronco between your mini cooper and Jake’s very own Ford truck. 

After a heated argument on which pilot should lend you a hand, Javy won on the basis that Jake should be the one to greet Rooster when he arrives. And so, Javy is able to escape the wrath of his seething friend with the most shiteating grin on his face as he got to follow you out back. 

Replaying the scene back in his mind leaves Jake annoyed beyond belief, and now that he’s witnessing Rooster back out of the parking spot for the fifth time this evening, he feels his anger flare up even more. 

Jake leans back in his seat, throwing his arms across his chest and watches his guest finally stroll through the front doors as if he’s not running late with another variation of his Hawaiin button up slung over his thick shoulders. 

Rooster doesn’t know what to say as he carefully steps inside, spotting Hangman sitting by himself. He keeps a neutral expression on but doesn’t know what to make of his view. Hangman is waiting for him by a table of love-themed baked goods. He can't help but to imagine how Natasha would kick him in the balls laughing once he tells her what he’s currently seeing. 

Rooster takes in Hangman’s appearance as he gets closer, bewildered that his hair is styled nicely, instead of being slicked back by five pounds of gel. And he can’t recall a time where he’s seen Hangman dressed so casually before. For the first time ever, he acknowledges that Jake looks pretty good. 

As he takes his last step over towards the table, Rooster hesitantly speaks.

“Look man. I don’t know if you misunderstood what Mav said but—”

“Sit.” Jake asks through clenched teeth, peeved that Rooster would even assume he’d have any kind of romantic interest in him.

Though slightly horrified at the situation, Rooster obliges anyway—taking a seat, awkwardly adjusting himself in the tiny chair.

The sight was laughable. The two grown men were basically swallowing the small seats they sat in with an array of goodies displayed between them. 

Jake looks across the table, his eyes silently trailing up and down Rooster’s body. 

Rooster can’t tell if he’s trying to size him up or he’s simply curious about how many Hawaiian printed shirts he owns. 

Both men clear their throats and flinch at their synced mannerism. 

Before they get a chance to fester in an awkward silence together, Jake feels his phone ring repeatedly in his front pocket.

Jake immediately recognizes the unique text-tone he specifically set for your contact. 

Rooster curiously watches Hangman, the man across from him practically shoves half his arm down his pants to grab his phone, a small smile replacing his previously annoyed expression. 

Angel 

Me and Javy are warming up the cookies now!!

Is that his truck out front???

I'm so excited Jack!! 

We’re coming out soon I promose :)) 

His grin peers back at him in the reflection of his screen as he rereads your typos, you were so happy for him that you didn’t even bother to look over your own spelling. 

“Who’s Jack? :(��� he quickly types out in response, shoving his phone back in his pocket. 

Jake bunglingly shifts in his seat, attempting to find a comfortable position after realizing that Rooster had been watching him check his phone.

“Coyote is joining us in a bit, and my other friend too.” He speaks so fast Rooster would’ve never caught what he said if he wasn’t paying close attention.

“Oh, alright” he responds.

They both synchronously stare down at the food in front of them before making brief eye contact with each other. 

Both men quickly retract their gaze, pretending to look around the shop–unsure if they want to make eye contact with one another again. 

Rooster stares off in the direction of the kitchen and spots Coyote walking out, his head looking back over his shoulder to smile at a girl following closely behind him. 

“Wait, watch where you’re going.” you draw back your smile, a worried look settling on your face as you kick at Javy’s ankle, alerting him to look ahead.

Pulled in by the sound of your voice, Jake quickly averts his eyes in your direction. 

You and Javy are both wearing the new bear paw oven mitts he helped you pick out last weekend as you carry out red velvet cookies together. 

He can’t ignore the way his throat tightens as you two make your way over. 

Jake doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. He blinks to regain his composure, realizing that he spaced out so severely within the last few minutes that he didn't realize that you and Javy had already politely greeted Rooster and you had taken a seat next to him. 

He drops his gaze down to your knee as it bounces nervously, unaware that your leg is slightly rubbing against the side of his jeans. 

His eyes trail up to your face, and follows your line of sight. You’re eagerly staring down at the cookies you just put out with Javy, as the two pilots sitting across from you are engaged in friendly conversation.

“Try her stuff.” Jake speaks up, interrupting the conversation. 

He quickly rams a cookie into his mouth with his right hand, as his left gently grabs your knee, halting you from giving yourself carpet burn from the way you were furiously rubbing against his denim pants. 

Jake feels you look up at him appreciatively from his peripheral as he shovels a chocolate croissant into his already stuffed cheeks next, urging his fellow aviators to join him. 

“Mmm so damn good,” he moans—closing his eyes, appreciating the way the chocolate swirls on his tongue.

“Yeah?’ Your shoulders shake, laughing at his reaction. Despite how many times he’s already tried your baking, Jake has never failed to display his enjoyment every time. 

Rooster and Javy quickly reach for the closest treat as Jake shoots them a spine chilling look while you distracted yourself, trying to find a napkin from the empty table behind you. 

Once you’re fully facing everyone again, you hand Jake his much needed napkin and place a napkin in front of everyone else too. 

Javy thanks you by shooting a thumbs up at you since his mouth is full, and you Bradley shyly grins at your kind gesture. 

Rooster then takes a big bite of one of your red velvet cookies and feels a wave of nostalgia hit him right in the chest. 

“Oh wow. This is amazing,” he compliments you, wide eyed.

It tastes so much like his mother’s cookies that it makes his heart twinge. 

“I don’t remember the last time I had something home-made. This is great,” he admits to the group with a smile.

Javy and Jake stills at his statement, knowing the reason why he hasn’t eaten anything home-made in awhile. The duo learned recently that his mother passed not long ago, and his father died in an accident involving Maverick while he was young.

“If you come around here I can whip up something for you. What do you like, Rooster?” you offer, lips pulled into a small smile.

Jake knows that you mean it too. It wasn’t just to make conversation or to distract from the topic—he can almost envision you keeping yourself past store hours to practice new recipes for Rooster. 

“These cookies are great as is.” he returns your smile, appreciative that you didn’t attempt to pry or send him a look of pity he’s grown accustomed to receiving. 

“How about you come around in the morning with Jake? Maybe it’ll count as bonding time to your boss.” you joke.

Jake feels himself choke on his croissant, Javy pushes a cup of water in his friend’s direction immediately.

Jake fervently nods his head no at your statement after clearing his throat with water. 

“Jacob Daniel Seresin.” you scolded, appalled by his manners. 

Bradley smiles watching the once cocky pilot he knew shrink in his seat like a kicked puppy as you stare him down. 

“Sounds good.” Rooster agrees to watch Jake sulk further. 

“Hey are you guys coming down to the Hard Deck next week? Phoenix convinced Penny to reserve the space for just the navy Friday night” Rooster suddenly brings up, picking up another cookie for himself.

“Oh. Yeah I’ll be there, what about you two?” Javy looks at you and Jake. 

Jake can practically see the wheels in Javy’s head turning and he wants to splash the rest of his water on him to halt his scheming.

You bite down on your tongue, a nervous habit you could never rid yourself from. Jake has never really brung you around his friends, besides Javy and now Rooster. He knows you run on the introverted side, you’re comfortable meeting others in small intimate settings like this. But a bar–the Hard Deck? Full of boisterous members of the navy running on a couple beers? Jake even grows nervous for you.

“What do you say Hangman? We can have her as our plus one.” Javy offers, slightly provoking Jake.

He looks over at you, trying to decipher your expression but it's unreadable.

“If that's okay with you guys?” you combat his nervous stare with a smile, reaching down to play with his fingers that were currently splayed on your knee. 

Jake relaxes a bit, feeling your fingers twist at his graduation ring–but the anxiety still sits at the back of his throat like bile.

You don’t want to disappoint Jake and rudely decline the invite. That was probably the last thing you wanted. 

Who knows? Maybe you’ll have fun since Jake and Javy will be there. It’ll be nice to see Jake spend his weekend outside the walls of your apartment for once. You’ve been feeling guilty for keeping him inside so much, although he insisted there wasn't a place he’d rather be.

But you knew deep down, Jake was much more of a social butterfly than you were. He would thrive at a bar filled with people. Your chest warms, knowing that in a room full of others, Jake will always manage to shine and cast his presence onto everyone there like a mirrorball. 

“I’ll take that as a yes” Javy grins as you both stare back at him. 

Within the following days, Jake learns that he has to share his mornings before work with both you and Rooster. 

He tries his best to be civil, making small talk with the two of you but he can’t help but to feel like he was kicked to the curb. His involvement in conversations grows less and less by the day, yet this doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You’ve attempted to pull Jake aside a few times but he insists that he and Rooster are already running late to base–leaving you defeated as you watch him walk past customers and make a beeline for the exit. You know there’s something clearly bothering him and you grow increasingly worried, watching him retract from you like this. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jake has the same worried feeling weighing down on him. 

Everyday, as you speak to Rooster–Jake takes the time to study your face, admiring your features, trying to commit them to memory–worried that one day he won’t get to see your face as often anymore. He feels his heart sink the second he looks over to Rooster and sees that the brunette has the same admiration for you in his eyes. 

The feeling grows worse by the second–and Jake is unsure of what to do with himself.

You even tried to talk about it with him–but for some reason-Jake uses every excuse in the book to avoid the problem. Jake Seresin, a man who thrives off the thrill of confrontation can’t fathom the idea of having a possibly confrontational conversation with you. All because he doesn’t want to hear about what you think about Rooster. He doesn’t want to hear an ounce of praise for the man to leave your lips. He doesn’t want to learn that you grew close with Rooster like how you’ve grown close with him. It’s better if he doesn’t know anything, that would hurt less. 

This morning he finds himself standing next to Rooster, dozing off as the mustached man animatedly speaks to you, his muscled body leaned over the counter you worked behind. The scene in front of him makes him feel so nauseous that he hasn’t even made an attempt to taste his latte, afraid that he won’t be able to stomach it. 

“Jake?” you softly called out to him, pulling him out of his haze. 

He looks up from his coffee and meets your stare from across the counter, he sees you bite down on your tongue–a nervous habit of yours. He feels even more sick. 

“Am I still coming over to your place on Friday to get ready with you?” you look up at him hesitantly, afraid he’ll deny your request.

He feels guilt coat the roof of his mouth. You looked so scared to speak to him.

“Yeah I’ll see you Friday, Angel,” he assures you.

Your heart twists sadly at the term of endearment. 

“And we’ll talk then?” you ask.

“We’ll talk then,” he reiterates.

thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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#jake seresin x oc #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman fanfiction #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman fluff #hangman angst #jake seresin angst #tgm imagine #tgm au #tgm #top gun 2 #javy machado #javy coyote machado #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin

[aworldinsideaperson]

Candy Cane Kisses

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Plus Size!AFAB!Reader

Summary: Candy Cane Kisses takes us to a Texas ranch on Christmas night, Jake “Hangman” Seresin is watching his sister’s best friend from across the room as he nurses the bottle of beer in his hand. His Bambi is somehow more beautiful than she’d been when they met three years prior, the last time they’d seen each other until only two nights before and he wonders if she can still taste him like that candy cane between her lips. 

Warnings: 18+, No use of Y/N (Reader is nicknamed Bambi), No happy ending (for now). There is talk of food, relatively explicit talk of sex as well as some pretty graphic foreplay/kissing with the reader being described with vaginal anatomy but the actual smut happens behind closed doors. 

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N:

First: This is part of @sailor-aviator’s Christmas Writing Challenge but it is also a companion piece to a longer story/series I’m working on so while there is no happy ending in this piece the overall story, once completed, will have a happy ending. But once again, THIS PIECE DOES NOT HAVE A HAPPY ENDING so read at your own risk. 

Second: The smut was supposed to be in the story but I felt like it didn’t need it but if people want to read it separately I might consider finishing it and posting it.

Third and probably most important: Anything you’d like me to tag as warning or in a description or anything please let me know. I haven’t really posted anything longer than a couple hundred words since like 2016 so it’s been a while and I know fandom and fanfiction has changed quite a bit since I’ve been an active member of it so please bear with me while I get my bearings. 

Sailor-Aviator’s Christmas Writing Challenge

December 23rd, 2013

Sometimes he replayed that kiss in his head. Sometimes he berated himself for not giving more. Sometimes he imagines pressing his lips to parts of her that he’d never seen. He knew She was older now, they both were, he’d seen the pictures on instagram and facebook, the occasional snapchat with drunk hazy eyes and the same smile she’d had the very first time he’d met her. It’d been more than three years since they’d seen each other in person but even from across a crowded bar with Christmas music blasting and chatter at an all time high, Jake could still hear her laugh and when his eyes shot in the direction of what had once been his favorite sound he knew then and there he was a goner. Even as he makes his way across the room to stand beside her at the bar he knows it’s a mistake but he’s thought about her for three years, and how much hurt could a conversation really do.

“Bambi.” A simple word, a nickname given to her that very first day as she watched the movie for the very first time with tears in her eyes. At the sound her eyes drifted closed, tension leaving her shoulders as she let out a breath before looking over to him with a smile. 

A conversation. That’s what he’d told himself. What harm could it do to just say hello, just ask how she was doing, just talk like the old friends they were. It wasn’t until an hour later when he stood inside her bedroom with his hand in her hair and his cock down her throat that he realized maybe his first instinct had been right. Maybe he shouldn’t have followed the sound of her voice, maybe he should have left the bar the second he heard a laugh that made his heart skip, maybe he shouldn’t have come back home at all.

December 24th, 2013

Jake sat on the arm of the couch, his cousin Isaac standing over him gesturing wildly with his unoccupied hand as he recounted a story Jake assumed would be interesting if he could pay attention to anything other than the sound of that laugh from across the room. The cold bottle swung between his fingers nearly empty. If he finished it he’d have to get another, if he went to get another he’d have to walk past her, if he walked past her he was sure she’d smell of that sweet gingerbread lotion she’d slathered on her hands, the same as the night before. He’d have to come face to face with her and that candy cane between her soft lips. He tried not to think about those lips, tried to listen to Isaac talk about the latest ponzi scheme he’d gotten himself involved with, tried not to remember the way her lips felt wrapped around his- 

“Dude I’m serious this would be a great investment opportunity! And I know you’ve got some capital, what with that military salary and all.” 

Isaac’s eyes were wide with excitement  but Jake’s face was contorted in pity as he sighed. “I don’t know Isaac.”

With that his face fell. “Why not man?”

Opening his mouth to give the older man an answer he really didn’t have, except to say that some guy name Brad has Isaac by the balls, Jake was saved by the voice of his mother as she quickly approached the pair.

“Jacob,” She started, laying a hand on his shoulder and looking softly at him, usually a sign she was about to ask for physical labor. “Do you think you could help Bambi bring the rest of the cookies from the basement? We’re running low up here and you know if someone doesn’t go down with her she’s gonna try to carry them all up by herself.”

He sighed but he didn’t argue. “Sure thing Mama,” He stood and clapped his cousin on the shoulder as he walked away. “I’ll catch up with you later Isaac.”

“Okay but seriously think about what I was tellin’ ya.”

With his back turned Jake nodded as he rolled his eyes. “Absolutely.” He knew would absolutely not be thinking about it as he took a few long strides towards the basement door and made his way down the steps.

The Seresin’s basement had never been a place to fear. Finished long before even their first child arrived Jake had always known it as a playroom, a game room, a movie room, whatever his family had needed it to be. He could hear his nieces and nephews to the right of the stairs, no doubt playing with the collection of toys new and old that lived in the too big toy chest in the corner of what could have been a third living room. To his left he could hear the rustling of plastic and clanging of aluminum in what was originally intended to be a second full bar for his dad but his mother had taken over as christmas cookie and bulk grocery storage. Once fully down the steps he could see her then, his back to him as she tried to stack two trays of his mother’s treats on top of one another and he smirked, that was just like her.  “I know you’re not trying to carry all those containers up by yourself.” He made his way toward the woman maneuvering the stack to goodies to get the best angle, gently laying his hand on her lower back. 

Relaxing at his touch Bambi looked up at Jake with a smile of her own. “I’m an independent woman who only takes one trip, especially with stairs involved.”

“Well as independent as I know you are imagine the hell mama would give me if she knew I let you carry them all up yourself. So will you spare me the wrath?”

Bambi rolled her eyes, replying with a sarcastic chuckle. “Well I suppose I could take pity on you given how well you ate pussy last night.”

The man’s shoulders dropped, “About last night,” He started, the room becoming thick with silence. “It was-“ He couldn’t finish, taking his hand off of Bambi and placing both of them on the counter as he turned from her slightly. He didn’t even know what he should say, didn’t know what the truth was, didn’t know if he should tell the truth even if he knew it.

Bambi nodded and sighed, back straightening as she toyed with the edge of the wrapped cookie trays. “A one time thing, yeah, nothing, I get it and I don’t plan on telling anyone. Not even Mary. She’ll lose her mind if she found out we almost fucked.” 

‘Fucked’ the word didn’t feel right. She’d never felt anything like what she felt the night before, memories of his hands and lips trailing over every inch of her body, every square of skin an erogenous zone with his touch. Fucked was something that happened after heated arguments and on couches in frat houses and in the back of cars. She wondered if last night, even though he’d never been inside her, she wondered if that’s what sex was supposed to be like, still making her feel a need for him almost 24 hours after the fact.

“Good. I mean. I just didn’t want to give you the impression that it was more than it was.” He felt sick at his own words. ‘More than what it was’ what was it exactly? Two people who once knew each other, who’d once been friends, giving each other pleasure? No feelings? As if he didn’t still think about her once a day from sharing one single kiss three years prior. 

The silence feels heavy around them but continuing to plaster a smile on her face Bambi looks up at her best friend’s brother. “I get it.” She starts. “I’m not a teenager with a crush anymore. You may have been the first person I loved but there have been others since. Other kisses, other blow jobs, other sex partners. There will be others after you too.” 

Every muscle in his body was tight as he nodded. “Okay then. It’s all sorted then.” Jake’s stomach churned as he tried not to think of her underneath, on top of, in front of, with other men. He wasn’t neive, he knew last night that the blow job she’d given him had been too good to be the first time she’d done it, someone had instructed her in the past. She knew where she wanted to be kissed and touched and she hadn’t been afraid to move his hands or his mouth or ask for more or less. He knew those things came from experiences. He just hated hearing her say it. Or maybe he hated the thought of after, that there was now an after him. That someone else would touch her and be touched by her and she’d instruct them on how to make her feel the way he had. Make her feel the way he had when he knew no one would ever make him feel the same way she did.

“Yeah, now let’s get these treats up there before people start nibbling on your mom’s gingerbread houses.” With a smile on her face Bambi grabbed the top tray and quickly turned her back to Jake and made her way back upstairs.

She was trapped. Completely and totally trapped. There was no possible way out of the conversation with the man in front of her. She’d tried everything, giving uncomfortable responses, not responding at all, she’d even tried walking away and he’d just followed her. Bambi had met Billy Seresin a few times. He was always too loud and too touchy, he smelled like he smoked 3 packs a day and he never ever shut up. All she had done was give him a polite smile as she was walking past him and into the sitting room, intent on cornering Mary-Ann to pester her about the man who’d shown up to the party as her boyfriend and left 30 minutes prior seemingly losing the title. That had been her plan but of course things hardly seemed to work out the way she expected these last few days especially and nearly 45 minutes later Bambi was sure that if Billy Seresin laid so much as a finger on her again she was going to vomit. But as he raised his hand another slide along her lower back and pulled her closer to him.

“Hey Bill, I’m gonna steal the pretty girl away, hope you don’t mind.” And without waiting for a response Jake led Bambi to the front door, his hand still resting gently on her back.

As they passed the threshold out to the porch her shoulders relaxed as she took in the borderline cold night air. “You are a real hero Jake, if the navy thing doesn’t work out I could whip you up a cape and some spandex, you could go around saving the world from conversations with creeps.” Bambi chuckled as the two settled beside each other on the porch swing, Jake pulling a large blanket from the basket beside them and wrapping it around Bambi’s shoulders.

“Well I’m contractually obligated to the Navy for another few years but afterwards we’ll team up.” His hand rubbed up and down her blanket covered arm a few times before leaning into the back of the swing, his body turned completely towards the woman beside him. “Besides, how was I supposed to let him keep eye fucking you right in front of me.”

“He was not eye fucking me.” Bambi voiced with a roll of her eyes.

“He was,” Jake argued. “I can tell since I’ve done it.”

Turning lifting one knee onto the seat of the swing she turned to completely face Jake. “He’s married to Sarah who’s a fucking dream, no way he’s trying to fuck that up.”

Propping his elbow on the back to their seat, Jake smirked, resting his head on his hand. “You’re way hotter than Sarah.”

“Oh now that’s just a flat lie.” She replied, throwing her head back in laughter.

Lifting his head, Jake let his fingers reach out to slide over a piece of her hair. “I disagree. You’re the hottest woman in any room.” He smirked, giving Bambi an exaggerated wink.

Lulling her head to the side she said his name with a mildly warning tone.

He sighed, throwing his hands up in defense. “Fine I’ll stop saying it. But you can’t make me stop thinking it.” A full genuine smile spread across his face, all the way up to his eyes.

“Sometimes I think you’re too much of a flirt for your own good.” She gave him a gentle shove and her exaggeratedly leaned backwards before sitting up with a laugh.

As the sound of laughter faded Jake admired the woman before him, he’d always thought she was beautiful but the glow of the twinkle lights surrounding the porch made her look ethereal. Even three years later, he’s never gotten over the way he feels around her. For several moments the silence surrounded them, nothing but the light creak of the swing chains and nature. The peacefulness he didn’t expect to be surrounded by was somehow terrifying to him So he filled it. “How’ve you been?”

“Good.” She started, looking at her hands in her lap as she began to pick at the polish. “Mom has been seeing this guy Randy and he’s really nice to her. They’re talking about getting married and moving in together. And Mary bought this new camera and we’re setting up a studio space in the third bedroom of the loft. She’s not sure if she’s going to go back to college with me next fall but I still have plenty of time to convince her.” A soft smile turned up the corners of her lips her eyes still trained toward the fiddling fingers in her lap.

Jake reached out, rubbing his hand slowly over the blanket covering her shoulder. “That’s all great Bam but I asked about you.”

She sighed and then nodded. “Oh, well yeah, yeah. I’m good. I’m good.”

‘You sound unsure.” He pushed.

She reached out her hand to place it on his knee. “No, I'm good. Really.” She assured. “Just not totally used to thinking about it I guess.”

Reaching down to take her hand between both of his, stroking his thumb along her skin. “When’s the last time someone ask how you’ve been doing?”

“About 30 seconds ago.”

Jake looked at her with a warning glare. “Before that, smartass.”

Bambi rolled her head and smiled, her thumb sliding back and forth over Jake’s own calloused knuckles.“You’re the one in the Navy, doing big important things, shouldn’t I be the one asking you how you’re doing?”

Squeezing her hand tightly he gave Bambi a serious look. “You can ask but how you’re doing is no less important than how I’m doing. I’m of the opinion that it’s more important. How can I be okay if I know you’re not?” His question was met with silence and so with a sigh he continued. “I’ve been really good. Made some friends, made some non friends, and I love flying. Have pretty much everything I could ever want. Now you.”

Bambi smiled, giving Jake’s hands a squeeze of her own as she kept her eyes trained on their connected fingers. “I’m good, really. I’m getting my degrees in social work and criminal justice. Victim advocacy is the goal, helping people in similar situations to what Mom and I went through. Things are stressful and I’m scared I’m gonna fail like all the time but I want to help people so badly.” Finally she looked up, tears began to surface in her waterline as she willed them not to fall. “Somewhere out there is a child or a spouse who is going through some of the worst pain of their life and I think about how it felt to be helpless like that and I know I can’t give up.” 

Again, Jake reached out to her, one hand still holding tightly to hers, the other gently brushing a fallen drop from her cheek. “You amaze me Bamb, stronger than me that’s for sure.” A comfortable feeling fell over them as he continued the questioning.“You still in therapy?”

With a smile she nodded, her hand still gripped tightly in Jakes. “Yeah but I’ve been in a pretty good place for a while now so we’ve cut back to once or twice a month with the option for more when I need it. It really helped me to work through a lot of the guilt and anger and sadness. And I can think about it now without wanting to throw up. I still have nightmares but nothing like it used to be.”

Jake grinned at that. “That’s really great. I’m proud of you for sticking with it, I know you were really nervous to be starting it in the first place.”

“Thank you for encouraging me back then, I don’t know if I could have done it without that extra push.” 3 years ago she’d been a girl often afraid of her own shadow. She’d thought she needed to be saved back then but Jake hadn’t been the one to do it. Instead he’d loved her and broken her heart and pushed her to help herself. 

“Of course Bamb I’ve always cared about you, always wanted what’s best for my Bambi.” His hand cupped her cheek, eyes unable to break from hers.

“Jake-“

“I know, I know what we said I just,” He sighed, thumbs gliding softly over the skin of her hand and of her cheek. “I just really miss you.”

“Miss me?”

“Yeah,” Again, silence surrounded them, Jakes eyes dropping to her lips as he continued. “Bambi, about earlier I didn’t-“

“There you are!” Mary-Ann’s interruption pulled the two apart, hands now cold and cheeks warm. “Jake, I told you to interrupt my conversation with Isaac after 3 minutes. I was stuck there forever listening to him talk about whatever bullshit he’s on now. I swear that guy doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground.” Mary plopped down in the rocker closest to the swing.

Jake now sat with his feet planted firmly on the porch. “Says the girl about the drop out of college.” He teased.

Mary gasped, turing to her best friend who still had yet to stop reeling. “You told him!?” She exclaimed.

Bambi replied with a soft shrug. “I didn’t know it was a secret.”

With the most sincere puppy dog look she could manage Mary-Ann turned to her brother. “Please don’t tell daddy, he’d be so disappointed in me.”

Jake dropped his shoulders and stood up, placing a hand on his sister’s shoulder.“Oh don’t worry Mary-Ann, he’s already disappointed in you.”

From then on the conversation was nothing but a fit of giggles and insults between the siblings, Bambi still swinging back and forth in a fog as she wondered what he’d been about to say.

The night had slowed, most of his extended family had been long gone before it reached ten and parents retiring upstairs not long after. The house was quiet, the only light coming from the twinkling bulbs strung from corner to corner in every room in the house. Jake sat at the dining room table, his chair cocked slightly in the direction of his companion. He’d had more to drink since earlier in the night, giving his mind a soft haze. At least he thought it was the alcohol, could just as easily be the woman sitting beside him in her red dress, glowing in the soft light. He’d convinced her to have one last drink with him before she walked to Mary-Ann’s apartment over the garage. It’d been nearly an hour ago and the clock was ticking closer to midnight as the two each prolonged the last sip of their drinks.

Bambi reached over, gently patting his hand. “It’s good to have you home Jake. I worry about you a lot.”

Turning his head to look at the table Jake nodded. “I worry about you a lot too.”

“Me?” She chuckled and just like the night before he forgets how to breathe. “I’m not the one spending my days in a flying metal death trap.”

“I still worry about you. We should keep in touch more.” He traces his finger around the opening of his bottle, trying not to make eye contact as she continues to barely laugh at a memory.

“What, my occasional snapchat not enough for you?” She asks.

“Not when I want to hear from you every day.” It then when he finally looks back at her, if he didn’t know her so well he’d think maybe that smile was real and not the fake one she plastered on to keep others at a distance.

“Every day?”

He sighs and nods his head as he once again looks away from the woman beside him. “Yeah. I think about you every day.” He thinks he must be drunk, there is no other way he’d admit something so agonizing, not to himself and certainly not to her.

The silence is palpable as she throws back the last sip of her drink as she stood. “Well I should probably head out.” Her voice is quiet, if he hadn’t been standing beside her so closely he might not have heard it.

“Bambi,” Jake lifted his hand to her cheek, gently stroking her with his thumb as her eyes closed. “I wanna kiss you so bad.”

Opening her eyes she watches him through her lashes as she turns and presses her lips to his palm. “How’s that?”

“Not really what I had in mind.”

She smirked, “Disappointed?” She asked, thinking back to the very first kiss they’d shared so long ago, her first.

“Just thinking maybe you don’t know how to kiss, someone should really teach you.” He lifted his other hand, steadying her face to look up at him.

“I seem to recall my first teacher being awfully strict about what kisses he could and could not give me.”

His right hand lifted to brush the stray hairs for her face and he nodded. “Let me make that up to you?”

“I thought that’s what last night was supposed to be.”

One side of his mouth twisted up into a smirk, his hand now moving to caress the side of her neck. “I don’t remember finishing the job.”

“You made me cum, your job is done.” The memory of his lips and tongue making her knees weak.

“But it was only once.” He argued.

She was staring at his lips now, heart pounding with anticipation. “Once is more than most.” It was a true statement. She knew too many people lying about orgasms for it not to be.

His thumb stroked between her jaw and ear, eyes watching her as her eyes moved from his lips to his own chartreuse orbs. “I’m not most.” 

Voice hardly above a whisper  “Jake?”

“Yes?”

“Just fucking kiss me.”

Four words. Four fucking words and Jake’s mind had gone blank of all thought. All except one. ‘Bambi’. Slowly he dipped his head, gently pressing his lips to her, the familiar taste of candy cane still on her lips from his mother’s christmas cocoa cocktail. He almost pulled away; almost did the exact thing he’d done three years prior, sparing both of them the heartbreak but as she sighed and he felt her melt into his touch he needed just a little more. 

Their lips moved together, slotting her bottom lips between his and gently sliding the tip of his tongue across it. Her hands reached up to tangle in his hair, the velvet locks sliding through her fingers as he began to pepper kisses first at the corner of her mouth before moving down over her jaw and down her neck causing her to moan at the feeling of his lips against her bare skin.

He smiled as he continued to kiss and lick and gently nip at her neck. Bending slightly at the knee he wrapped his arms about Bambi and lifted her to rest on the dining room table where only hours earlier his family had been gathered. She gasped and her high heels dropped to the floor and her arms now draped over his shoulders. Jake’s smile grew as he dropped his lips to hers once again, slotting himself between her thighs and pulling her to the edge allowing her to feel his length pressed between their bodies. “Do you feel that baby? Do you wanna feel it inside you?” Arrogance heavy in his voice, his lips barely brushing over hers.

Bamni’s face contorted and she whined. “Yes. Jake please please please.”

“No need to beg Bambi, whatever you want, it’s yours.” He spoke with a slight chuckle in his voice though the sound of her begging made him twitch. Again his lips trailed over the skin of her neck then to her shoulder, his hands sliding up her thighs under the red dress he’d spent the night imagining on the floor. His fingers traced over the nylon, attempting to feel every bump and curve and dimple of the flesh underneath.

”I want you to touch me.” Her tone is still begging with his lips trailing over her collar bone. Smirking Jake pulled his mouth from her skin and licked his lips, moving the fingers of his right hand to her core, touching her gently through the layers.

“Oh fuck.” He groaned, feeling her slick against the tips of his fingers. “You are so wet I can feel you through your panties and stockings.�� Again he pressed his lips to hers, swallowing the moans the escaped from her lips at even his light and obstructed touch. “Stay the night with me?” He asked, lips still brushing against hers.

With an eggar nod and jagged breath she responded with a simple yes that had Jake’s heart pounding as he pulled her from the table and kissed her deeply before quietly leading her up the stairs and down the hall. He pressed her against the door of his bedroom, his thigh between her legs and her lips against his throat. “Come on baby,” He whispered. “Let me make you feel good.” And with that he pushed his door open and the two stumbled into his childhood bedroom and with a click, locked the door behind them.

It was nearly 5:30 in the morning as the lovers laid in each other's arms, fingers trace patterns over the other’s skin. Jake’s mom would be getting up soon to start Christmas breakfast. His mind reeled with thoughts, a carousel of anxiety, of leaving Bambi, of breaking her heart, breaking his own. Thoughts of his mother’s smirk if his sister’s best friend bound down the stairs with his hand in hers still smelling of sex. His mind filled with thoughts of run, and run, and run. So he ran.

Pulling his arm from around Bambi Jake moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to her. “You should probably get going before everyone gets up.”

She sighed before throwing the covers off and throwing her own legs over the side of the bed. “Yeah, I’d hate to have Mama Seresin see me do the walk of shame. She’d probably start planning the wedding before I made it to the end of the driveway.” She laughed as she gathered her dress and undergarments from the night before, slipping them on with little effort. She felt lighter, tension gone from her shoulders and a permanent smile plastered to her face.

“Bambi, last night, it-“ Jake started but Bambi cut him off, leaning in close for a kiss.

“Was great? I sure thought so.” She said, attempting to finish the sentence in a way he hadn’t meant to.

Jake pulled away, his eyes trained directly to his feet as he spoke. “It shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.”

Silence again filled the space between them, the inches beginning to feel like a cavern as she pulled further away from him. She didn’t recognize her movements as she walked to his door, her fingers wrapping around the cool metel of the handle. With a deep breath she let the truth fall into the chasm between them. “I lied last night, when I told you it didn’t mean anything? It meant everything.” 

She stood there, hand on the knob hoping her words had changed something but Jake didn’t even move “I’m sorry Bambi. I wish-“ He sighed and his head dropped into his hands. “You deserve more than this, more than a single night.”

Bambi nodded and turned the handle. “Merry Christmas Jake.” 

Her words were quick though even with the speed he could hear the crack in her voice. His door was shut tight before he responded. “Merry Christmas Bambi.” And only when he heard the front door shut and the turning over of her car did he reveal his own truth.

 “I love you.”

#tgm #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #tgm imagine #tgm smut #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin smut #jake seresin #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman smut #jake hangman fanfiction #top gun hangman #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #hangman fanfiction #hangman seresin x reader #hangman seresin #Hangman & Bambi

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Got Ink? 💉 | Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd Imagine

Takes place before, during, and after the events of TGM

TGM masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x tattooed model!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, mentions of pain as a result of tattoos. Slight suggestive content if you blink | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: Art comes in many different forms. And when you technically think about it, your body is a canvas that can be become a mural if you find yourself drawn to the beauty that tattoos bring. For WSO Bob Floyd, he appreciated art in every form and loved how patterns and colors could create something beautiful. When his sister invites him to a party for her job shortly after returning from a special mission with the Navy, Bob meets a woman who was the perfect canvas he’d ever seen.

Note: I cannot tell you how much I loved doing this request. As soon as I got it I was like, ‘I’m gonna love this,’ especially as someone who has tattoos and wants to have a lot (I have at least twenty planned) this was feeding my love for tattoos. To the anon who sent this request I hope you like it, I really enjoyed writing this for you and I hope you’re okay with me choosing Bob since you said you wouldn’t mind if it was him or Jake—since I just did a Jake imagine I wanted to give Bob some love 🥹 Also I made it where reader was born in 1989 so if we were to go by Bob being born in 1993 like Lewis then she’d be about four years older since the events of TGM take place in 2019.

——————————

They often say that when you get your first tattoo it will either be the one and only time you subject yourself to the temporary pain of permanent ink…or it becomes one of many.

“It’s an addiction”, people defend, though they should probably look up the term addiction before using it in such context.

For many it’s the appreciation of art. Whether expressing it by becoming a tattoo artist or wanting to capture the beauty by etching it onto their skin like they are its own personal canvas.

Tattoos come in many different forms. There’s the traditional/old school style that is very recognizable with its bold black lines outlining bright colors. People in their old age, having grown up in the 60s and 70s, are the ones usually seen with these types of tattoos. Neo-traditional is not that far off from traditional, just the lines are not as bold. Delicateness is seen with fine line tattoos. In recent years it’s become popular amongst the younger generation—not just because they are pretty to look at but if one has a job that’s strict on policy then they can hide them better.

The oldest style would be the tribal tattoos. Beautiful elaborate patterns in various sizes, they represent the culture one comes from. Like fine line, watercolor tattoos have become a popular style—taking away the traditional black ink used as an outline so the colors have the spotlight. No color in a piece is blackwork and then there’s realism where it’s pretty much a picture that was printed onto the skin. Go on Pinterest and you’ll find multiple images of patchwork style where a collection of pieces put together can be any style already mentioned.

Japanese style, patch, geometric, black & gray, anime, portrait, the list goes on and on. So many ways to put a design on one’s body where it will remain until they go to the next life. Some people stick to pieces that represent sentimental value, like family or childhood nostalgia, others will simply see something they like and go, “I think it looks cool.”

When looking at Y/n’s tattoos, both aspects were seen in the array of artwork coating her body. After getting all the pieces that represented a person, place, or thing that impacted her life, Y/n started to get whatever the hell she wanted—not having an explanation for anything other than, “it looked badass so I got it. No value behind it, I just wanted it.”

Like many newly turned teenagers itching to get their first tattoo, Y/n was bold and got an intricate design on one of the most painful spots. Her reasoning was if she did it, then any other place in the future wouldn’t be as bad. All through college whenever asked what she wanted for her birthday or holidays the answer was always money to get a tattoo. An artist herself, she majored in drawing while attending Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, New York, also taking on an apprenticeship for a local tattoo artist. There she would get to work on her skills and tattoo people, progressing to doing tattoos on her legs and non-dominant arm. Anytime she traveled to a different state or country during the semester she studied abroad, Y/n got a new tattoo, wanting to have an array of styles from different artists on her body.

By the time she was 26, she had accumulated over 50 tattoos and still had room for more. From her neck down, artwork ranging from fine line to bold and traditional decorated her skin. Both her arms were half sleeves, ending just above her elbows with patchwork along her forearms and hands. The only place free of ink on Y/n was her face, though she did have her inner lip tattooed. If you asked her, it’d be the only place she regretted getting ink because it faded so quickly. But then again, she could get it redone if she really wanted to.

There were looks from people anytime she went out. Y/n loved dressing up in little black dresses and two piece sets to unapologetically show off her tattoos. Older, conservative couples or people who thought tattoos looked trashy on women would look down upon her. Getting hit on was normal, though she never gave the time of day and sending one look that read, ‘get lost’ had men scurry. Sometimes she'd be approached by teenagers asking about certain pieces, saying they wanted to get tattoos once they were of age and were looking for advice. Biker bars were a place she felt comfortable in, Y/n even taking a part-time job as a bartender so make some extra cash. People from all ages—well at least 21–were covered in tattoos like her.

In 2014, shortly after her 25th birthday, Y/n noticed an inbox notification in her instagram. She was used to getting messages on occasion. Being featured on the bar’s and tattoo parlors business instagram pages and accumulating her own following of potential clients had Y/n reach up to 80 thousand followers. The tattoo artist she worked for was very popular, having done work for celebrities and being featured in Inked Magazine.

Speaking of Inked Magazine…..

When Y/n clicked on the icon to open the message, the first thing she spotted was the blue checkmark. Then beside it was in bold lettering inkedmag. Coffee nearly spilled onto the floor when her grip faltered, gasping lightly at the name. She didn’t even realize the page was following her, confirming this by searching herself under their following and found her username staring back at her.

Heart pumping, Y/n opened the message. “Hi, Y/n, my name is Manda Williams and I’m a representative at Inked Magazine. We’re a fan of your profile and would love to work with you on our upcoming campaign. Would you be interested? Please email me at [email protected], I look forward to talking with you soon.”

Never did she think she’d become a model, let alone a tattoo model. She was taller than the average woman, standing at about 5’10 and strikingly beautiful. On countless occasions family members would say, “if you didn't have all that on you maybe you’d been discovered. You’ve got the height, the style, and high fashion look. Plus you’ll never get a well paying job with all those tattoos.” All they were met with was a roll of the eyes from the woman, annoyed with the constant nagging.

“I’m an artist,” she would defend. “I got accepted into one of the most prestigious art schools in the country and I work for a very renowned tattoo artist who has had Snoop Dogg, Angelina Jolie, and Lady Gaga as clients. Not to mention I work at a biker bar where the people there love me. Want me to go further?” the look on their face would read they didn’t but Y/n would put the nail in the coffin with, “Let me point out the fact I get paid more with both those jobs combined than you working a nine to five in your little office job. Also you should educate yourself. Tattoo models do exist.”

If only those family members could see her now. Posing on a motorcycle in nothing but a bra and booty shorts as the camera flashed in front of her.

“You’re a natural, Y/n,” the photographer complimented, making her flustered.

She adjusted her position, running a hand through her hair, “If you think so I trust your judgment.” Being in a studio felt very different than when she would set up her phone on a tripod in her apartment. It took many tries for her to capture the perfect angle, often deleting fifteen out of sixteen photos. Here with this guy calling out movements, “a little to the left,” “bring your hand up—just under your chin, perfect,” “Now act like you’re suntanning on the beach—tilt your head back as though the sun is in your face,” Y/n felt what it was like to be a model.

Not many tattooed individuals got the chance to sign with top agencies like Ford and IMG. Very few were recruited so it came as a big surprise when an agent from IMG Models contacted her following the release of Inked Magazine’s issue. When she took the job she thought it would be a small section in the magazine itself. Instead, she was on the cover.

“You don’t have an agent?” Bonnie’s tone was confused, staring back at Y/n from behind her desk as they sat in her office at the IMG headquarters. Bonnie had seen her cover on Inked, immediately going to Y/n’s instagram where she contacted her though the email listed on the tattoo parlors page. From there she asked the artist to bring a portfolio, which she was shocked to find out wasn’t much. “That was your first model job?”

Y/n shrugged, making a face like it was obvious, “Unless you count the dozens of comments I get on instagram beggin for my next post, yeah it was. I’m a bartender and tattoo artist, modeling wasn’t something I thought was in the cards.” She refrained from adding, “also didn’t think IMG scouted people like me.”

It was safe to say Y/n was unlike the typical runway model. Every now and then a high fashion show would hire a man with tattoos to walk for them. Very rare would you see a woman on the runway. For Y/n, that seemed to be the case in the beginning of her career. She did walk in the Marco Marco show that year which was the highlight of her life. Inked Magazine got so much response on her first feature that they made her their staple girl. Y/n worked with them the most on campaigns and even got to do a cover shoot with celebrities like Travis Barker and Kehlani. Those features got her a lot of recognition to the point she hit one million followers on instagram.

It wasn’t until Y/n went viral on the internet for her Sports Illustrated cover and becoming the first inked model to be featured in a Victoria Secret campaign that the top designers were booking her. Before long she was auditioning for brands during fashion week, securing Tom Ford, Calvin Klein, and Oscar de la Renta. Due to her tattoos being the star of the show, there were hardly any clothes on her save for tiny tops and skirts or dresses with intricate cutouts. She didn’t mind of course. After all, her tattoos were a part of her and the reason she was getting the opportunities of a lifetime.

Milan, Paris, London, New York. Fashion week was gonna have to get used to a new face in town.

Vogue, GQ, Vanity Fair, Inked. Pick up an issue and you’d find Y/n on at least one page, if not the cover.

Every now and then she’d get asked to appear in music videos for bands. The Weekend once asked her to be the cover art for one of his singles, bringing her more attention as "The Inked Beauty from Blinding Lights cover art.”

She appeared on the Inked Magazine YouTube channel several times. The most popular video being when she did a Q&A released shortly after walking in the last ever Victoria Secret Fashion Show in 2018, becoming the first inked model to walk the VS runway. Though it had low ratings, Y/n’s bit was plastered on every social media site, many tweeting: “the best thing VS could’ve done for their final show was put Y/n L/n in it. She carried the damn thing.”

“Hello, I’m Y/n L/n,” she smiled shyly at the camera, her agent Bonnie and publicist giving a thumbs up. “I’m a tattoo and high fashion model from New York City. You may recognize me from the cover of Inked Magazine, or discovered me through some of my other projects over the last couple years—hell maybe I even tattooed you at one point,” chuckling as she feels her nerves slowly evaporate. “Today I’m here with Inked Magazine, the owners of my heart and career, and I'm gonna answer some questions sent in by you guys about my tattoos and career.”

The producer gives a nod, “Ready, Y/n.”

“Let me hear them, sonny boy.”

“What was your first tattoo and at what age did you get it?”

Thankfully she was wearing a tube top beneath her jacket, removing the clothing to reveal the many inked designs on her chest, and stomach. Pointing to the one just below her ribs, Y/n says, “So this was my first one—as you can tell by how faded it is compared to the others. I got it when I was eighteenth birthday, literally wasted no time and my family is actually who inspired it.”

“As of right now, how many tattoos do you have?” The question has Y/n think for a moment, tilting her head back slightly.

“I counted just the other week and I think it was close to…. seventy,” nodding she adds, “yeah I think that’s right. I know I had fifty when Inked contacted me four years ago for my first feature. So I’ve added twenty to the collection since.” She made a mental note to count again when she got home that night.

“Do you have any tattoo regrets?”

A nervous chuckle escaped, “Fuck, uh….yes,” she looks down shamefully, but gives a shrug like, ‘I can explain.’ Lifting her head back up, Y/n takes her two index fingers and gently pulls down her bottom lip to reveal the messy smudged ink that once read, ‘baby girl’. The camera zoomed in and once they got a good shot of it Y/n let her lip fall back into place, “I don’t know if you were able to read that but when it was freshly done eight years ago it said,” she pulled a face showing she was too embarrassed to say it. “It said ‘baby girl.’ I got it when I was twenty on a dare and frankly I thought it would be hot, but it faded so quick—which,” she raised a finger, “that’s the one place I would say don’t get a tattoo. Even though it’s technically temporary…you’ll end up with a blob of ink like mine and it’s not cute.”

“Where were the most painful spots you got tattooed?” Immediately she lifted her arms to show she had ink on her armpits.

“These basterds right here,” the producer and crew laughed, nodding along with her. “You feel me? Yeah, I thought the ones on my stomach and ribs were bad. Those were a tickle compared to my armpits—-oh and my elbows. I think I actually broke a sweat when I got those done. It’s why I have yet to conquer my knees,” patting the covered area, Y/n shakes her head, “I don’t know If i can do it. But funny enough, these tiny little hearts on my palms,” Y/n flashed her palms up, the camera focusing on the two red lined hearts in the middle of each hand. “These hurt so bad. Thankfully I’m not putting anything else here because I strictly wanted the hearts, so I’m sparing myself.”

“What do they mean?” The producer asked, taking a pause from reading out the next question. The little smile Y/n gave was shy.

“I was told a lot growing up that I keep my heart in the palm of my hand,” while she explained Y/n kept glancing at the hearts, “kinda like the saying, ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve,’ but with me it’s literally in the palm of my hand. So I got these little hearts on my palms—that way when I hold someone’s hand, they can feel the love and care I have for them,” sending a wink to the camera she finishes with, “because my heart is in my palm.”

“Have you ever dated anyone with more tattoos than you?”

“Noooo,” she snorts. “Not because I’m not open to it—I’m very attracted to people with tattoos. And I have dated people with a lot…it just seems that anytime I do get into a serious relationship, I’m the one who has more than the other. And if you’re thinking about who I think you are—,” Y/n points directly to the camera, like a mother scolding her child, “the answer is no, he did not have more than me. Louis has thirty-three, I believe, since the last time he and I talked—which was,” she pauses to think, “I think around New Year’s.”

“Do you find yourself enjoying campaign shoots or runway shows more?”

“That’s hard,” Y/n pouts, causing her agent to chuckle since she knew the answer first hand. “Both are fun in their own way. I love being able to come into a studio or go out on sight and do a photo shoot—except in the fucking winter because I’m usually half naked freezing my ass off.” She pauses to laugh with the crew before continuing. “And then there's this feeling of ‘wow, that just happened,’ when I step off the runway. Getting to work with designers I’ve idolized since childhood and being the face of Mugler is a dream come true. If I had to choose…..it would be campaigns and photo shoots. There I can express myself more freely.”

“Do you see yourself still modeling in ten to twenty years time?”

There was a question she had to think about, taking a moment before answering. “I sure hope so. I love my job and definitely see myself continuing in the future. As long as my agent Bonnie and Inked don't get tired of me,” she laughs, winking at the woman who blows her a kiss. “But honestly I have experience as a tattoo artist so I could see myself opening my own parlor. I’d love to start my own blog or get other tattoo models into the industry. There’s a lot to think about what the future holds, but for right now I’m gonna have fun in the present.”

While home in New York when not booked, Y/n continued to work part-time at the tattoo parlor. She left the bar shortly after signing with IMG, but still visited whenever she could. There was even a picture of one of her Inked shoots framed above the bar.

With her new found fame the parlor had little to no openings each month. Regulars and new clients had to call in to reserve an appointment the second the schedule was dropped, which was sometimes weeks in advance. Several of the friends Y/n made in the modeling industry would get tattoos from her, though they always tended to go for the fine line style. More celebrities booked with her boss, adding Cardi B, Rihanna, and Louis Tomlinson to the list. The latter whom, as mentioned, Y/n actually got romantically linked to in mid 2017. It only lasted a few months, but the photo of the two on the Inked instagram was the most liked on their page.

Louis wasn’t the only high profiled person Y/n was involved with. Unfortunately the downside to fame meant her personal life was to be blasted on every inch of the internet. From starting her modeling career in 2014 to spring of 2019, she’d been spotted with actors Michael B. Jordan, Tom Felton, and fellow model Vladimir Ivanov. Like Louis, they only lasted a couple weeks to months—save for Vladimir which lasted almost over a year—and ended on good terms where they remained friends.

Frankly when it came to settling down Y/n hoped to find someone who was sweet and down to earth. Who was a hard worker—passionate about what they did for a living and wanting to share that with her. Someone who could make her laugh and feel like she was the only girl in the world. It was hard finding someone like when the spotlight follows you around. Y/n had been in the public eye going on six years and due to her connections with big named people she never seemed to catch a break when it came to romance.

All those qualities she desired in a life partner came to her in the form of the adorable weapons system officer she met at a party in November of 2019. The poor guy felt so out of place. From behind the bar Y/n could see him at the corner glancing around like he was searching for someone. Only getting a glimpse at the side of his face, she didn’t recognize him. The party had many from the fashion industry to celebrate Anna Wintour’s 70th birthday. What was ironic was Y/n took up the task of working the bar, kicking into her skills from when she was a bartender at a popular biker club in Manhattan. With her view she was able to see the entire floor as people entered.

The man she’d been eyeing must’ve come in when she was busy making the Hadid sisters their drinks. He wore a white dress shirt with some slacks and a matching blazer. His glasses reminded her of the popular style from the 80s. Come to think of it, they were probably the aviator style. He was tall, roughly six foot so she’d be eye level with him considering she was wearing two inch kitten heels.

Seeing his flustered demeanor and the fact he looked like he didn’t know what the hell he was doing there—not to mention he was handsome from what she could see, Y/n waltzed over, “May I get you anything?”

When he spun around she was met with the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes staring back at her. They blinked rapidly, like they were trying to decipher if she was in fact real. Then they snapped straight to her neck, following the ink of the exposed skin on display from her red latex mini dress—which his face mirrored the color of since he was making it quite known he was checking her out. He had a baby face to him, which was kinda adorable, and Y/n assumed he was maybe a year or two younger than her.

Offering a smile Y/n said, “So what will it be?”

“Huh?” He said confused before remembering what she initially asked before he got distracted. “Oh uh, just water please.” Still smiling, Y/n took a clean empty glass and filled it with ice before adding the water. Finishing it with a straw she placed it on a napkin in front of him.

“Will that be all?”

“Yes. Thank you,” he took the glass, glancing around briefly before letting his shoulders drop.

“You seem a bit out of place,” Y/n wiped down the countertop, catching his attention again. The man nervously laughed, adjusting his glasses.

“Is it that obvious?”

“A bit,” she teased, nodding her head to the crowd in front of them. “All these people walk around like they own the place. You’re the first person I’ve seen tonight who doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing. Are you here with someone?” Part of her was hoping he’d say a friend invited him, feeling a sudden rush of butterflies at the way he looked at her—like he couldn’t believe she was real.

“My sister dragged me along,” he confirms, the model mentally sighing in relief. But she couldn’t get her hopes too high. For all she knew he may have a partner back home. “I was visiting her this past week and she begged me to come. I told her it was a bad idea since I’m not….part of this crowd.”

“Ah,” she hums, biting back a grin at the way he described the industry. “Not a model or influencer, I take it?”

“Nooooo,” his laugh filled her stomach with butterflies. “Not at all. I don’t know how to work social media. Are you?”

Y/n refilled a guest's drink and handed over a beer to another, “I dabble here and there,” it was refreshing to meet someone who wasn’t familiar with her work. Usually at events like the one they were at she had people coming up to her already knowing who she was. “You’re probably like, ‘thought she was just a bartender,’” she giggled at the flustered look taking over him. “I was one before being discovered. I’m doing this for fun honestly—-and because Anna likes what I make her.”

His eyes went to her neck and collarbones, lingering on the ink. She assumed he’d never seen a model with so many tattoos before. “You can look,” she smirked, when he glanced away from being caught staring. “You’re only seeing a small portion of the canvas,” his eyes went wide at her words, making her giggle, “these babies are the reason I’m in this business.”

“You're a tattoo model?”

Y/n raises a brow at the surprise in his tone, “Didn’t know they existed, handsome?”

“No-no,” he quickly apologizes, “sorry I meant no offense. I knew there were models with a lot of tattoos. My sister told me that the industry was starting to expand by signing more people with them.” His words have Y/n intrigued. Obviously his sister was someone in the business, she wondered if she knew her.

“Is your sister one?”

“No, she’s an agent,” Y/n stops what she’s doing, towel long forgotten.

“For a modeling agency?”

“Yeah.”

“Which one?” Just as the question left her lips, Bonnie’s voice interrupted the two, “Bob, there you are! Oh good—,” she grins wide when she sees who he’s talking to, “You guys met!”

Snapping their heads toward each other, the two have the same expressions of, “wait what?”

Bonnie claps her hands, coming beside Bob at the bar and motioning between the two, “Y/n, this is my brother, Robert—the one I was telling you about last week,” mouth slightly agape, remembering the conversations the two had about Bonnie’s brother—in which the agent suggested setting up a date between the two—Y/n watches Bob react the same when Bonnie then says, “Bob, this is Y/n L/n. One of my clients at IMG—I know I’ve mentioned her before to you.”

Not knowing what to do at first, Y/n extends her hand to formally introduce herself, “So you must be the famous, Bob,” butterflies swarm her stomach again by the warmth of Bob’s hand when he goes to shake it. “I’m Y/n. So nice to finally meet you—Bonnie’s told me a lot about you.”

“W-wow,” Bob stutters, mentally hating himself when he does. “It’s really nice to meet you too, ma’am. I wasn’t expecting to meet you tonight, but now I see why Bonnie was so adamant I come.” A pointed look is thrown at Bonnie, who shrugs with a smile like she did no wrong.

“Well seeing as you two found each other without me, I’ll leave you both to it. Bob, let me know if you plan on riding with me back to the house or if you catch a ride. And Y/n I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning.” Winking, Bonnie takes the Cosmopolitan Y/n made for her and scurries off, leaving the two alone.

“I should’ve known,” Y/n laughs lightly, topping off Bob’s water. “Your sister has brought you up the past couple times she and I have gotten together,” lips curl into a smirk, “she wasn’t lying when she said you were a cutie.”

Bob turns red, smiling shyly, “when she told me about the inked beauty she worked with, she left out the fact you’re a walking piece of art.” His boldness impressed her, Y/n leaning closer to him against the bar top, resting her elbow on to so she could lean her head on her hand.

“How long are you gonna be in New York?”

“Till Wednesday,” part of her was disappointed that it was only four days away considering it was currently Saturday. But it was enough time for something to blossom.

“Tell me about yourself, Bob. The night’s early and I could listen to you talk for hours. Let’s see if Bonnie was psychic when she said we’d be quite the puzzle when put together.”

Ever heard of the type of couples where the girl radiates black cat energy and the guy is a literal golden retriever?

That was Y/n and Bob to a tee.

Out in public they stood out—even in a city like New York. Then when Y/n went to San Diego to meet his friends for the first time after four months together—which also resulted in her being stuck in California due to lockdown from the covid pandemic—it was like everyone couldn’t believe someone like Bob was with someone like Y/n.

He was a quiet, reserved naval officer and she was a sharp-tongued, world renowned tattoo model. They were the definition of the couple in high school you’d never expect would hit it off.

When Bob introduced Y/n to the squad, they instantly knew who she was, but had different ways of discovering her. Nat saw her walk in the VS Fashion show, Mickey and Reuben recognized her from The Weekend’s cover art, Javy remembered her from an episode of Ink Master she appeared on, Jake saw her on the cover of Sports Illustrated, and Bradley actually got a tattoo from Y/n when he was in NYC.

The entire period Y/n was in San Diego she grew close to the squad, even Maverick who had a lot of questions about her work and tattoos. “You think I’d look good with them at my age?” Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the question, ensuring the Captain with a pat on the back.

“Some of the sexiest men I’ve met have been your age with ink more in than me,” she giggles when he goes red. “I worked at a biker bar in New York City. Believe me, Pete. Anyone can look good with some ink.”

Needless to say when it came time for Mav to get a tattoo, Y/n was the one doing it.

A lot of the squad ended up getting work done by her. Jake, Mickey and Rooster had a few already so they were familiar with the process. Nat only had one from a drunk night in college, which Y/n redid on her behalf since it had faded. Payback was a man who liked bold, meaningful tattoos so sometimes Y/n had her work cut out for her but she always came through.

“Yo is this gonna hurt bad,” Javy was practically sweating as Y/n removed the stencil from his shoulder. The design was a geometric sun about the size of an airpod case.

“It’ll sting, but this area generally isn’t too painful. If this was your bicep then it’d be a different story.”

Javy didn’t look convinced, turning to look at the guys while the stencil dried, “How was it for you guys?”

“Didn’t hurt at all for me,” Rooster shrugged, “my bicep was worse—like she said.”

“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” Payback waved a hand. “You see how tiny it is? It’ll be over before you know it.”

Going over the details once more to confirm the colors and shading, Y/n moved her chair closer after turning on the tv to an episode of Chopped. “You ready, Jav?”

“Ready,” he didn’t really sound like it but it was too late to back out. The buzz of the needle filled his ears and soon the stinging sensation they all said had him clutching his first.

“Try to relax, man” Bob sat on the chair next to Y/n, “being tense won’t help.”

After over a year of dating Bob had his fair share of tattoos. His were mostly small and easily hidden by his uniform. When they first got together, Bob loved learning about her tattoos. When she got them, why she did. If there were any meaning behind certain ones and if she planned to get more.

She was like a walking art gallery. So many colors and styles. Large and small. Y/n told him stories about almost every one—even if they were embarrassing like the inner lip tattoo.

“Biggest mistake,” she wiped a tear after she was done, the two laughing so hard. “Not only did it hurt but it faded not even a year after I got it. Now it looks so bad—I should get it redone but what’s the point when it will just end up looking the same.”

Bob hated when people would give her looks of disproval when they’d go out, usually from those who were unfamiliar with Y/n’s work. One time he nearly got into a bar fight with a older gentleman who thought it was okay to call Y/n a Jezebel. Rooster and Mickey had to hold him back, but Y/n simply looked at the guy and said, “Baby, I’m a fucking millionaire because of these bad boys. While you’re about to kick it the dust I’m gonna be on the cover of Vogue magazine next month. So eat shit and die already.” The man was left speechless, making her and the squad smirk in victory. The equally tatted bartender who knew of Y/n whistling and even given her a free round.

“That was so fucking hot,” Bob pulled her into a searing kiss when they left the bar moments later, Y/n smirking against his lips, “You think that was hot? I’m a mess under these pants from seeing you so worked up, baby. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Whenever he and Y/n would cuddle she’d trace the raised ink with a finger, Bob doing the same to hers and committing them to memory. He loved to kiss the ones on her neck and collarbones, but his favorite were the tiny hearts on the palms of her hands.

“What do these mean,” he asked one day during the early days of their relationship. They were laying out on the hammock, taking her hands to admire the collection of small tattoos along her fingers and wrists. He hadn't even realized she had any on the palms until he flipped them over. There his thumbs traced over the red outline of each heart.

“If you ask any person I’ve ever loved or cared for they’d tell you I carry my heart in the palm of my hand,” she flips her hands so they are holding Bob’s, the tattoos against his skin. “So when I hold people’s hands, they know a piece of my heart lies with them.” Letting her head fall back against his shoulder, Y/n shifts so her lips are against his jaw. “And I’m kinda hoping you’re the only one who gets to hold them from here on out.”

Anytime after that Bob would press a kiss to the hearts whenever he held her hands. Then when asked about what tattoo of Y/n’s was his favorite his answer was always, “the hearts.”

His family adored her. At first they were put off by her striking image but learned quickly Y/n was perfect for Bob. The children of his siblings loved taking washable markers to color in the tattoos Y/n had that were black and white. “Can I draw you a tattoo someday?” Little Emma asked shortly after the couple celebrated one year. She was a little artist who loved asking questions about the pretty pictures on Y/n.

“Of course, my love,” she promised. “Draw me whatever you desire and I shall get it done.”

The first fashion show Y/n booked after the pandemic Bob had front row seats. With his phone out he was the ultimate cheerleader, though he refrained from whistling or making noise so as to not embarrass the model, but would be in absolute awe when she strutted past him. It was the Tom Ford show, Y/n had walked out in a long black trench coat, coming to the end of the runway first before removing the item to reveal a silk dress underneath. It was spaghetti strapped with an open back, thigh slit to compliment her legs and the cameras loved it. She walked a few steps back up and turned to strike one last pose before making her exit.

Bob was mesmerized. It was the first time he’d seen her walk the runway and my God if he wasn’t already a simp he sure was then. A photographer captured his reaction to her discarding the coat and it went viral on Twitter.

@ inmyreputationera: if my man doesn’t look at me like @inkedbyY/n bf at NYFW then I don’t want it.

@ Inked✔️: We’re all Bob Floyd when @inkedbyY/n steps onto the runway.

When it came time to pick out her wedding dress Y/n was unsure of the route to go. It’d been five years the two were coming up on, one year of being engaged with the wedding to take place in North Island. A beach wedding in the late fall, Y/n wanted to look elegant and classy.

“Whatever you choose you’ll gonna look amazing, darling,” Bob kissed her head after she sighed when shuffling through bridal magazine pictures of dresses she’d cut out. “You know I love your tattoos—they are a part of you and I don’t want you feeling like you have to cover up for the sake of pictures. Baby, you’re one of the top models in the world. Like you told me when we first met, those babies are what got you discovered. Show them off.” Rubbing her shoulder exposed from her tank top, his lips pressed to the ink covering the skin. “But if you like this,” he pointed to the dress she kept going back to in her pile, it was elegant and pretty with neckline that fell just below her collarbones. “Then you should get it because you love it.”

The ceremony dress ended up being the one with a high neckline. It had open back with Y/n deciding on a her veil cascading down to the floor to become a small train rather than having the dress itself have it. Lace covered her arms, the ink peeking out from beneath to make the material stand out more due to the contrast.

She was stunning. An actual goddess that had Bob’s jaw drop the second his eyes landed on her. For the reception Y/n changed into a white two piece set that showed off her legs.

And you best believe she hired local tattoo artists to do a ‘spur of the moment’ tattoo booth at the party.

It didn’t take long for Inked Magazine to want to do a bridal shoot with Y/n. And if you look at it one way, it was a full circle moment. The issue marked ten years since they discovered Y/n and blessed her with the career of a lifetime that led her to meeting the love of her life.

All because she had a knack for getting ink.

……………..

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[andorskenobi]

Apple Pie | B. Floyd

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x f!Mitchell!Reader

Part 2

Summary: Moving around a lot as a child made feeling at home difficult for you as an adult, that was until you met Bob. Nickname: Vienna

Warnings: just pure fluff, bob (he's dangerously loveable)

a/n: in case you haven't noticed I really like Lizzy McAlpine, once again I really recommend this song it's very cute and I love it. also this is most likely going to have multiple parts so let me know if you'd be interested in that

w/c: 2,501

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

You'd lived in North Island for two years now, but still it never quite felt like home. Granted, you never really understood what home felt like since you moved around so much as a child. You decided on North Island because it was the closest to home you'd ever felt growing up. The plan ending up working out in the end as your dad was called back to Top Gun.

You were excited to have your dad back in town, more so when he asked to meet you at the Hard Deck that evening. You sat in your usual spot at the bar talking with Penny when a group of pilots walked in, the taller blonde one catching your attention for a few seconds before you returned your attention to Penny.

"So tell me, who are you waiting for?" She had asked that at least for times since you had sat down, but you refused to tell her not wanting to spoil the surprise. Penny was one of the few women that your father had been with that you actually liked, excluding your mother of course. She'd passed when you were born, hence you growing up with your dad.

"I am not telling you, it's a surprise." Penny just huffed and turned her attention to another bar patron. You fiddled with the neck of your beer glancing back at the door every few seconds it seemed like.

"This seat taken?" You shook your head before looking at the source of the voice. He was another pilot, granted he didn't carry the pilot demeanor you'd grown used to over the years of being surrounded by both your dad and Iceman. He smiled at you as he sat down, politely waiting for Penny to notice him rather than hollering for her, which is what most of the patrons did.

You weren't sure if you should speak to him so you sat quietly beside him, feeling unusually shy in his presence. However, he spoke first for you.

"I'm Bob, by the way." He reached his hand out for you to shake, an action you took mental note of. You took his name and introduced yourself to him. The two of you began talking, he had been called back to Top Gun just like your father and he was a WSO. You told him about your dad and about growing up in the Navy. Conversation with him was shockingly easy.

You talked for what felt like ages before he asked if you wanted to go over to the pool tables where it was slightly quieter.

"Hey Pen, will you tell me when my dad get here?" You rolled your eyes as she winked at you and shooed you off.

The night moved by quickly laughing and talking with Bob, before you knew it more pilots were showing up. You didn't even notice that your dad was already here and watching you while talking to Penny. You were quick to make friends with the other pilots, Phoenix arguably becoming your favorite out of all of them.

"Oh c'mon, you can't be that good Hangman." You laughed as Hangman stared at you with an open mouth.

"What would you even know about flying, sweetheart." Bob watched you as you rolled your eyes at the cocky blonde.

"My dad's a pilot dipshit. A damn good one too." Before Hangman could retort a familiar voice rang through the bar.

"If it isn't Vienna, as I live and breathe." You smiled at the use of the nickname, you stood up to give him a hug. Besides your dad, he was the only person who made you feel the way you thought home was supposed to feel. Growing up he had always been like an older brother to you, so when he and your father fell out it was very hard for you to pick a side.

"So this is how you tell me your back stateside?" You ask as you pull back from the hug.

"Sorry?" You turn back to find the other pilots looking at the two of you in confusion.

"You guys know each other?" Hangman was the first to speak.

"Something like that." You figured Rooster didn't want them all to know about his father and your father so you kept it short.

The conversation drifted again so you were able to quietly return your attention back to Bob.

"Want another drink?" You asked noticing yours was empty.

Bob shook his head holding up his still practically full bottle, "I'm good. Want me to come with you?"

"No. I'll be quick, and plus Penny will protect me."

You smiled when you saw your dad sitting at the bar talking to Penny, "Hey old man."

Maverick smiled when he saw you, "So you've finally decided to grace your old man with your presence?"

"Oh shut up you're fine, besides you've had company." You winked, nodding your head towards Penny. You dad smiled at you shaking his head before giving you a side hug.

"I can't stay long, I told my company I would be fast. Wouldn't want to worry him." You turned to look at your dad, a small smile on your face. You'd missed him, to say it was nice to be with him again would be an understatement. "He's here ya know, you should try and speak with him. I don't know what happened between you two but I think Goose would have wanted you to fix whatever it is."

He shook his head, "Not tonight."

You sighed taking your drink and going back to join your new friends. The rest of the night was spent in good company, a smile never leaving your face. Slowly, people started funneling out of the bar and soon it was just you and Bob left.

"At least let me walk you home." You smiled at the offer before standing from where you sat.

"Okay fine, but promise you won't kidnap me." Bob shook his head at the joke, making you laugh.

"Let's go."

As the two of you walked you talked more, and the more you learned about him the more you began to like him. He was incredibly sweet and ever the gentleman.

"So what's with the nickname Rooster called you earlier?" You smiled to yourself remembering how you got the nickname.

"It's actually kind of stupid if you think about it, the nickname not the story, because the song is absolutely amazing. Anyways, growing up I would only listen to Vienna by Billy Joel, like that was the only thing I would listen to play anything else and I’d be upset. It got to the point that people just started calling me Vienna so it just kinda stuck with me through life. And plus the little sausage things are the only reason four year old me ate so there’s that too." You turned to look at Bob who was already looking at you with a smile on his face.

"It's not stupid, the nickname I mean. Vienna is an amazing song. Did you ever think about becoming a pilot?" Bob asked to continue the conversation.

"Not really. I mean I went through that phase every kid goes through growing up where they want to be just like their parent, but other than that I never actually wanted to follow the family name. It didn't really feel like me. But I did go as far as joining the Navy so I guess I did follow in my dad's footsteps at least a little. I'm sorry I'm rambling feel free to tell me to shut up."

"No, no, it's fine. Keep rambling." Your smile grew wider as you looked back over at Bob. When you didn't continue he spoke up, "What job do you have, in the Navy I mean."

"I'm a doctor, I work on base actually. Occasionally, I get deployed but not often." You would have kept talking but you realized you were at your house so you stopped, turning to fully face Bob as you did. "Welp, this is where our walk ends. It was nice getting to know you Bob, and I'm hoping since my dad is going to be your teacher I'll get to know you some more."

"I would like that, a lot actually."

The two of you stood looking at each other for a moment longer than any two people should before you gave in and placed a kiss to his cheek, "Goodnight, Bob."

--

It had been a few weeks since you'd met Bob and to say that both of you had grown close would be an understatement. When you weren't busy with work or training you were hanging out. For the first time since you moved to North Island, you were actually starting to feel at home.

You were off of work for the day so you decided to go spend the day with Penny, who since moving back to North Island you'd grown even closer to. The two of you talked on the back deck of the Hard Deck, watching as the group of aviators played some strange game of football that your dad came up with.

"So, you and my dad, how's that going?" You asked when you caught Penny staring at him.

"I don't know what you mean, there is nothing happening there."

"Oh please, every time he's here something happens between the two of you. He's just too blind and dumb to realize he loves you." Penny smiles glancing back over to the group on the beach, her eyes inevitably landing on Maverick.

"Maybe, but I should be asking you the same question about your love life. What's the deal with you and Bob?" You feel the blush rise to your cheeks as you put your head down on the table trying to hide it.

You look back up, avoiding eye contact with Penny and instead watching the game as you spoke, "Nothing really, we're just really good friends."

Of course Penny didn't buy that in the slightest, but she dropped the subject and didn't push for more details. In all honesty you wanted Penny and your dad to actually work this time, she was almost like a mother to you and you could tell she made him happy. You allowed your thoughts to drift as you found yourself watching Bob. You had to resist the urge to celebrate when he scored.

Once they had finished playing Bob made his way over to you, a smile on his face. He waved at Penny before moving to give you a hug.

"You're sweaty, please don't hug me." You laughed as he acted offended. It was like music to Bob's ears, a sound he wished he could replay over and over in his mind.

"I was thinking."

"Oh that's dangerous." Bob rolled his eyes playfully shoving your shoulder.

"Would you maybe want to watch a movie or something at your place? We don't have to it's just an idea and I have free time tonight so, but I get if you don't want to." You smiled at his rambling before placing your hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"I would love to watch movies or something with you at my place, and it's okay to call it a date Bob." A tint of blush rose to his cheeks causing you to laugh.

When the two of you got back to your house you let Bob use your shower because he didn't want to get your couch all sweaty, but in truth you wouldn't really mind. However, him taking a shower gave you time to tidy up and prepare the necessary snack and drinks for watching a movie. You had just finished setting up the coffee table as a miniature snack bar almost when Bob walked out of your bedroom. You had to force yourself not to visibly react to his appearance. His hair was wet and hung in his face as he cleaned his glasses with his shirt.

He smiled when he caught you staring at him, but didn't say anything. Instead he walked over and sat down on the couch, picking the remote up as he did. Now it was his turn to stare at you.

"You going to sit?" You nodded your head, sitting beside him with your feet tucked underneath you.

After a debate about which movie you were going to watch you finally settled on Set It Up, a rom com with a guy who eerily looked a lot like Hangman. As the movie progressed you grew more and more comfortable in Bob's presence until you ended up with your head resting in his lap and his hand running through your hair. It was very comfortable, not just the way you were laying but Bob's being there in general. The only way you really knew to describe the feeling was like eating an apple pie that had been baked just right.

"Why apple pie baked just right?" You rolled over so you could face up at Bob, confusion evident on your face. "You were thinking out loud Vienna."

You brought your hands up to hide your face in embarrassment, but Bob moved them away making you look at him. There was a smile on his face as he waited for you to speak.

"I don't know, apple pie is my favorite desert but only if it's baked right, if not then it isn't good." You watched his facial expression as you spoke.

"So what you're saying is that being with me is like eating your favorite desert?" You nodded your head.

Bob's smile grew making one grow on your face as well, "I'm honored to remind you of your favorite desert."

Before you knew it the movie was over, and you found yourself wishing it wasn't. You worked up the courage to ask Bob if he wanted to stay while the two of you cleaned the living room.

"It's pretty late," You didn't get the chance to finish what you were going to say before Bob interrupted you.

"I'll stay, uh, if that's what you were going to ask. If not I just made this really awkward." Laughter filled the room as you laughed shaking your head.

"You didn't make it awkward, that's what I was going to ask."

"Oh good, that's good."

Bob insisted on staying in the living room while you changed into more comfortable clothes, only coming into your bedroom when you came and got him. The two of you stiffly laid in your bed until you rolled over tucking your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the smell of him and your soap. You felt Bob relax as he wrapped his arm around you, resting his cheek on your forehead. The comfort you felt around him was unreal almost, you'd never felt it with anyone. If this is what home was supposed to feel like then you wanted to stay here forever in this moment, just the two of you braving the newness of what you could only assume was the start of a relationship.

#bob floyd #bob top gun #robert floyd x reader #top gun bob #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob x reader #top gun fandom #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun fluff #top gun movie #top gun maverick #tgm #tgm imagine #top gun fic #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd top gun #bob floyd x y/n

[accioprocrastination]

One Day At A Time (part 7/?)

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Hangman's fiancée goes home

T/W: death, anxiety, panic disorder, PTSD, POW, gun violence, hints to torture

Reader POV

I’m not even 100% sure this is the right way. You think to yourself as you trudge through the rain. You shiver at the feeling of water pouring down your face as you stop to try and get your bearings. 

It’s so fucking dark. 

No one approaches you in the hours it takes to reach your street. To everyone else it probably looks like you’ve broken out of some form of asylum. You know your face looks like shit and your hospital gown and stolen coat are definitely not helping the situation. 

What if he moved? 

It's been years for him since we were together.

I could open that door to another family. 

Or he could have a new family in my house.

You force yourself to stop asking questions that you don’t know the answer to as you approach your street.

His car isn’t here – shit maybe he has moved and I’m about to go scare the daylights out of whatever family has moved into my house.

You kneel down and start looking for the fake rock that holds the spare key.

You’re fairly sure that if any neighbours are seeing this, the cops are being called. 

*

When you unlock the door you're surprised to see that it looks the exact same as in your memories. 

He hasn't changed it.

"Jake?" You call out to no response. He's the world's lightest sleeper, so he's not here.

You close the door quietly behind you and make your way upstairs, your footsteps barely make a sound as you tiptoe straight into the main bathroom to shower. 

This doesn't feel real.

I don't know what I'm going to do if I'm daydreaming this.

Letting out a shaky breath you strip out of your attire and actually see what they’ve done to you by looking in the mirror. 

You feel teary at the reality of how bad you look: you know you’re too skinny, but the bruises, the scarring – it’s like it’s someone else looking back at you.

Your skin feels dirty when you think about everything they’ve done and so you jump into the shower for an obscenely long time to try to block it out.

That tactic doesn’t work and within seconds you’re thinking about the god-awful sounds of Ghost choking in the backseat of the plane. 

I failed him.

My backseater is dead because I didn’t know how to get out of that situation. 

You feel sick as the guilt starts to hit you. 

Your thoughts are interrupted when someone starts banging on the bathroom door. You instantly look around to see what you can use as a weapon - not really thinking that whoever is on the other side might not be a threat. 

"Jake open the door. Where did you run off to so fast that you left your phone and your house keys you idiot." A familiar voice bellows through the door. 

You know that whoever is on the other side of the door is someone from your past, but you can't place it to know that they won't beat the shit out of you if you unlock the door.

Wrapping yourself in a towel you search the cupboard for something you can use. 

"Jake I know you can hear me!" Their fist continues to pound on the door making you flinch. 

You stay silently shaking, hoping that whoever it is will decide to leave you alone. 

That hope is very short-lived as more fists bang on the door.

Javy grabs Rooster's fist an inch from the door at the sound of a quiet sniffle. 

"That's not Jake." he states confused. 

You trust that you recognise the voice and wipe your face from the tears before unlocking the door. 

"Not Jake." you say simply as you hesitantly open the bathroom door.

There's five confused looking faces staring back at you. The only one you recognise is Coyote.

"You're dead. You died." His voice breaks.

"Jesus." someone else mutters from the group but you feel to overwhelmed to notice which one.

You shake your head slightly which results in a wave of nausea and dizziness.

Your shoulders tense up to your ears when Javy tries to hug you. He looks beyond hurt when you duck away from his touch.

"Don't" you say to him, not wanting anyone to touch you right now.

"I guess this explains why Jake left in a rush." A pretty woman remarks.

"Is Jake-" Your voice is raspy when you try and speak up but you're so overwhelmed with questions that don't even know what to ask first.

Javy reads the perplexity on your face and answers everything you didn't ask, "He is fine but he's been a mess without you. He's been a workaholic since whatever happened. He's not dated anyone; he's not really gone out unless I've forced him to. This is the first time he's let anyone else from work over."

You're too dizzy to nod and too exhausted to talk.

"Shouldn't she be in the hospital or something?" The guy with the terrible glasses remarks.

You ignore him and walk into the main bedroom - closing the door behind you.

"I'm going to kick the others out." Javy promises you through the door.

Your anxiety is sky high as you begin opening draws trying to remember what goes where. 

You ruffle through what looks like a draw of miscellaneous stuff and pull on some black joggers. You have to tighten the waist strings before you open the wardrobe in search of a t-shirt. 

I don't remember there being so many draws in this place - there's loads at the bottom of the wardrobe.

Eventually you find a black t-shirt with text that you don't bother to read before you painfully shove it over your head and force your broken arm into it.

*

Jake POV - 

Jake closes the front door in defeat. He's spent the best part of the night driving around trying to find you and a few hours in a police station reporting you as a missing person. 

"What the actual fuck?" Phoenix says stepping into the corridor bag in hand. 

"What?" Jake responds confused as to what she's getting at. 

"Nova is upstairs." Javy states appearing with a glass of water and soup. 

"Where?" Jake asks taking the tray from Coyote's hands. 

"Your room. Everyone is just packing up their stuff - we'll be out of here in a minute." Javy states. 

Jake stops dead in his tracks as he sees a wet footprint on the carpet leading upstairs. You must've spent fucking hours walking barefoot in the rain to get here. Jake shudders at the thought of you having to do that. 

His concentration is broken by a recognisable clatter upstairs.

Striding upstairs quickly, he stops before the bedroom door to assure you, "It's okay if you just knocked the shelf off. It does that now, I just haven’t got round to fixing it." Jake says.

"Can I come in Sweets?" he asks putting a hand over the doorhandle. “It’s Jake.” He adds nervous that you might not recognise his voice. 

Jake doesn't see your flinch through the door at the sound of his nickname for you. 

It takes you a minute of hesitating before you risk opening to door - still unsure of whether to trust yourself that he is here. 

Jake stands pencil straight and quickly adjusts his jacket as he hears the floorboards creek.

"Hey." He says voice quavering in relief.

"Hi." You respond voice gravelly.

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