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vivwritesfics · 2 days

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Slow Ride

Jake saves her from a creep at the bar. She repays him in the best way she can think and rides him to his favourite song

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, hand job, fingering, riding, car sex, creampie

There was nobody she hated more than Jake Seresin. Ever since he'd come back to North Island, she hated him. But she hated him because she couldn't hate him.

Working behind the bar in The Hard Deck, she met her share of navy pilots. They were flirts, yes, but they were harmless flirts. But they knew what would happen if they push things, knew the consequences of disrespecting her.

Jake Seresin knew, too. He approached the bar with his usual charming smile and ordered a round of beers. She didn't say much as she got him the round of drinks. But still, even once he had them, Jake stayed to flirt with her.

She didn't flirt back, didn't want him to get the wrong idea. It had happened before, and the guy had flirted with her. He'd taken it too far and had gotten himself kicked out (well, Jake had been the one to throw him out).

There was one thing she liked about Jake, though. The fact that he protected her from the few creeps that had coming into The Hard Deck. He always had an eye on her, even when he was playing pool, making sure that nobody ever made her feel uncomfortable.

That was the thing. Although she hated Jake, he looked out for her. There was a time she was considering quitting her job at The Hard Deck. She loved her job, loved working for penny and loved how polite most of the aviators were. But there were a few guys that made things unbearable.

Until her knight in shining armour stepped in.

Jake didn't always have to step in and save her, but she loved it every time he did.

Like tonight. Cory was a regular, and a regular creep. He'd been kicked out more times than she could count, but he always found his way back in. Always slipped through the cracks and made it to the bar.

Thank God Jake saw him before she did. Even as Cory sat at the bar and whistled for her, Jake was there. He stood beside Cory and cleared his throat. "Can I help you?" He asked, trying to stay between Cory and herself.

Cory rolled his eyes and looked away from Jake. He turned his attention to her, wearing a smile that made her sick to her stomach. "Hey, pretty darlin'," he said, reaching across the bar towards her.

But Jake caught his hand before he could get it any closer. "You're not allowed in here, Cory," Jake said with a sneer as he pushed Cory away. "Get out before I make you get out."

Cory let out a laugh and shook Jake off. "Piss off, Bagman," he said, using the nickname that Jake normally didn't mind.

But Cory hadn't earned the right to use it. And it infuriated him. "Say that again," he challenged.

"Jake," she said from behind the bar, trying to grab his attention. As much as she liked Jake being there, protecting her, she didn't want it to get out of hand.

But Cory ignored Jake. He turned his attention to the poor woman behind the bar. "C'mon, pretty darlin'," he said as he leaned forward. "Let's say we get out of here after this."

The moment his hand reached out and touched the bottom of her skirt, Jake had him out of his seat, holding him up by his collar as he pressed him against the wall. "Fucking try it," he pretty much growled, spit flying into Cory's face.

Everybody in the bar had stopped what they were doing to watch. They watched as Jake dropped him, following Cory out of the bar. He made sure he was gone, too scared to come back before he returned to the bar.

"Sorry about that, sweets," said Jake as he sat on the bar stool and looked at her.

She placed a drink in front of him, one he hadn't ordered. "On the house," she said. "For being my hero."

Jake took it gratefully. He didn't return to the squad, instead staying at the bar with her until she closed up. Even then, even once she'd kicked everybody out, Jake stayed with her. He stayed with her as she cleaned and closed the bar and waited while she locked the doors.

But still, he didn't want to leave her. So, Jake walked her to her car. It wasn't creepy, no. It was comforting.

"I still feel like I should pay you back somehow," she said as she leaned against her car.

Jake let his typical charming smile come onto his face. "That beer was thanks enough, sweets."

Before she knew it, she was opening the back door to her car and gesturing for him to climb in. Jakes heart thundered in his chest as he did just that. He climbed in and scootched over to the furthest seat, giving her space to climb in beside him.

She did just that. Placing her back into the front seat, she climbed in beside Jake. "I wanted to give you a proper thank you," she said almost sheepishly as she leaned forward and grabbed a hold of her phone.

The music that sounded from the phone was a song Jake immediately recognised. She dropped her phone on the dash and climbed into the back. But she didn't sit beside him. No, she settled onto his lap, her arms around his neck.

"Fuck," Jake hissed as he looked at her. There was no telling how much he'd wanted this. "Are we gonna fuck to Slow Ride?"

She played with the hair at the back of his neck as she ground her hips against his own. "I dunno, Hangman. Do you want me to ride you to Slow Ride?"

He swallowed thickly and nodded his head. That was all she needed to hear. Her lips hesitantly attached to his own and his hands settled on her hips. Jake let her take control. He let her set the pace, let her decide how the kiss was going. Before too long she was kissing down his neck and undressing him in the back seat of her car.

Jake couldn't believe it. Here he was, fucking her in his car. He let out a hiss at the feeling of teeth against his neck.

Suddenly, she removed her hands from around his neck and reached between them. She popped the button on his jeans and immediate freed his cock.

Fuck, he was big. But, compared to the rest of him it was unsurprising. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft as she returned her lips to his.

The way Jake was gripping her hips, it was bruising. He reached under her skirt, touching her ass. Squeezing and groping, listening to her little whines and moans as she jacked him off.

The moment her thumb swiped over his tip, Jake ripped the material of the tights covering her ass. He hadn't meant to, just want to pull them down. But he couldn't help it. It was just so fucking good.

As soon as her tights were ripped, it was easy enough to slip his fingers beneath her panties. She was so goddamn wet. And those noises! They were music to Jakes ears.

"Goddamn, sweets," he grunted. The moment he touched her folds, her movements stopped. "So fucking wet f' me." His finger touched her clit and her body fell against his own. "Gonna ride me to Slow Ride?"

Her whines were desperate as she frantically lined his cock up with her entrance. She sank down onto him, eyes rolling back. "Holy Fuck," he grunted.

"Jake," she mewed desperate, her body against his own. He was so goddamn big, she didn't know how she was taking all of him. "Wanna move."

Jake immediately understood. She wanted to ride him, but she couldn’t move. He gripped her hips once again and began moving her, bouncing her on his cock.

It wasn't a slow ride. Not in the slightest. Her cunt just felt too good squeezing him, he couldn't slow down.

When Jake got her moving at her own rhythm, he pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her chest. Jake kissed her. He kissed down her chest until he got to what wasn't being covered by her bra.

As Jake got closer and closer, he wrapped his arms around her moved her body, her body limp against his. Her cries and whines were continuous, unbroken against the skin on his shoulder. She clenched around him, eyes shut as she came. But she was so out of it, so drunk on his cock, she hardly noticed.

"That's it, sweets," Jake mumbled as he kissed the side of her head. "I'm almost there."

And, seconds later Jake was cumming, his climax taking over him as he gripped her tight. "Fuck, fuck," he grunted, stilling her.

But he didnt pull out of her. He kept his arms around him as she laid against his chest, kissing the sweaty skin there. "That was incredible," she whispered as her body began to shake and shiver.

"We'll have to do that again, uh, sweets? He asked abd she nodded in agreement.

#jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin smut #jake seresin x reader smut #jake seresin x you #top gun #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #hangman smut #hangman x you #top gun hangman #top gun imagine

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military-newsboys · 3 days

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Ice: Let's play hide and seek. Mav: Okay... Ice: I'll hide, and you seek professional help.

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thiswaytwoinfinity · 3 days

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it’s a bad idea, right? - part 1: can’t two people reconnect

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader • inspired by sleeping with other people

Warnings: no use of y/n or physical description of reader except they have hair that can be tucked behind their ears, implied smut, this chapter is fine but future installments will be 18+

It’s finally here! Thank you to everyone for being so supportive and patient about this fic; I was dealing with some rough personal stuff and lost all my inspiration but it’s back now and I’m happy to be writing about everyone’s favorite cocky flyboy.

There’s something about a sticky summer night when you’re 22 that makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever been.

It’s the third bar that your new roommates have dragged you to tonight, there’s a cocktail sweating in your hand and the bass from the stereo thudding through your head. You’re not sure if the grin on your face is from the watching all of the wannabe cowboys go flying off the mechanical bull in mere milliseconds or from the possibilities of newfound adulthood laid out in front of you. In this moment, it’s hard to imagine that you were ever scared about moving halfway across the country — away from your family, your hometown and your high school sweetheart who always thought you’d move home after college — to Austin.

In this moment, you feel free. You feel invincible. You feel like this is a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

“Okay, the bar is a madhouse but I managed to get another round!” Anna shouts as she makes her way back to the table, tossing her long dark hair behind her before plopping the tray of shots down in front of you and your new friends. “And there’s a new rule!”

Everyone groans in unison; Anna loves to make up drinking games, handing out shots and beers with a new rule or bet that is guaranteed to leave someone embarrassed before the night’s over.

“Oh, stop. Shit like this is how we become lifelong best friends, trust me, I read about it online,” she fires back, rolling her eyes and handing shots to you and the three other girls at the table before taking one in hand. “It’s simple. Last one to finish their shot has to ride the mechanical bull.”

“Bitch, are you trying to kill us?” Erin asks, shooting a sideways glance at Katie, who’s eyeing up her shot glass like she’s trying to strategize the best way to drink it. The two of them are sisters — “Irish twins, it’s a whole thing,” Erin explained when you first moved in — are hyper-competitive and curse like sailors. You loved them instantly.

Your tiny hope of not being the one to end up on the bull dies when you look over at Taylor, who managed to throw back her tequila when nobody was watching. “What?!” she asks, curls bobbing in the bun on top of her head as she takes in everyone’s looks of confusion and frustration. “Anna never said we had to start at the same time.”

It’s like a starting pistol went off at the end of her sentence because before you know it, Erin and Katie are both biting into limes while Anna is swallowing down the liquor with a grimace. Shit.

You do your best to catch up but it’s too late. You, the girl who grew up nowhere near Texas and have never actually seen a bull in real life, are going to have to ride one in front of this entire bar.

Years later you won’t remember the details of the bet, how your friends whooped and hollered as you made your way over to the bull with shaky knees or how the operator took pity on you when you immediately slid off and offered you a second try. The song that was playing is lost to time, as is the actual feeling of riding the bull for a whole half second.

What you will remember, though, is sliding across the tarp to rest right by a group of athletic looking guys and the strong, tan hand that reached down to help you stand up.

You’ll remember the backwards Longhorns cap on his head, the way his green eyes flashed with amusement and the blinding white of his smile as he helped you to your feet, hand lingering just a moment too long in yours. You’ll remember the way it felt like someone had set off fireworks inside of you, fingers tingling where they touched his skin and your stomach swooping like you were on a roller coaster.

You’ll remember exactly what he said to you: “Well, that was definitely the most entertaining attempt of the night.”

You giggled, a little dazed by his chiseled features, by the way he seemed to only see you in that moment, by the force of his charisma.

“I’m Jake. What’s your name, beautiful?”

For a Thursday night, the Hard Deck was surprisingly packed.

The Daggers had managed to claim their usual spot by the pool table, but despite their cramped quarters they practically had to shout over the sounds of drunken sailors and the oldies blasting out of the jukebox to be heard. The table next to Bob was crowded with beer bottles, the bespectacled WSO having waved off Penny when she stopped by to clear them, promising the group would clean up after themselves. Natasha and Bradley were in the middle of some kind of dumb darts competition, being heckled by Bob and a tipsy Rueben, who had his arm slung around the former’s shoulders for balance.

Jake took in the scenery, smug grin on his face, before sinking his final pool ball with a flourish.

“And that’s game, gentlemen,” he said, turning to Javy and Mickey, who were shaking their heads with frustration.

“Can’t believe I let you talk me into betting against him,” Mickey sighed, shuffling through his wallet for a $20 bill. Javy just shrugged and threw a playful punch against his friend’s shoulder, before asking for a rematch.

“Let that be a lesson, Fanboy,” Jake chuckled, making a big show of examining the bill before pocketing it. “Never bet against Jake Seresin. They call me a golden boy for a reason.”

“Who’s ‘they?’ Everyone we know just calls you a dick,” Nat called out, making her way back to the table for her drink. Taking a look at the chaos on the table, she rolled her eyes before starting to gather up a handful of empty bottles. “C’mon, Fanboy. Help me clear some of these and I’ll buy you a beer to drown your sorrows in.”

He ran over to help, allowing Javy to slide over to Jake and elbow his buddy in the side.

“10 o’clock, there’s a whole table of pretty ladies. The blonde’s had her eye on you all night and her friend with the locs is crazy hot,” he murmured, as Jake took a subtle look over at the table in question. 5 or 6 women were crammed into a booth, and judging by the tiara on one of their heads, they were out celebrating a birthday. “Wingman?” the younger aviator asked, holding out his fist for Jake to bump it.

For a half second, he contemplated turning his best friend down.

It wasn’t like Jake wasn’t attracted to the blonde, who was, indeed making eyes at him from across the room. She was exactly his type, all bright smiles and smokey bedroom eyes, her curves and long legs poured into tight jeans. She had an air of confidence that made it clear she knew just how hot she was.

He knew that if he strolled over and gave her his best All-American smile and some of that Southern charm, he could probably win her over. They’d flirt and dance a bit and then he’d drive them back to one of their places, have some decent-to-excellent sex and he’d be asleep shortly after midnight.

It seemed fun. It seemed obvious. It seemed, quite honestly, a little boring to him.

Maybe it was because he turned 35 a few months ago and the idea of going home to his own bed after a night out was starting to seem more and more appealing to him. Maybe it was because he spent so much time trying to convince his fellow Daggers that he wasn’t a complete asshole that he didn’t want to risk them changing their minds again.

Or maybe he was just a little jealous.

Jake would see the way Rueben’s face lit up when he talked about his wife, how he would brag about every milestone his 3-year-old daughter was reaching. He felt awkward about his lack of wedding knowledge when a pink-eared Bob would ask the squad for their opinion on something for his upcoming nuptials. He’d try to ignore the weird sinking feeling in his stomach when he’d overhead Nat and Mickey picking out a restaurant for their weekly brunch double date with their respective girlfriends.

And despite the fact that he had spent most of his adult life doing whatever he could to avoid those kinds of situations, now he was starting to wonder if maybe … maybe he’d be a little happier if he had been able to settle down with someone of his own.

Oof. That thought made Jake’s chest tighten uncomfortably. So he pushed it down, smiled as wide as he could and first bumped Javy. “Wingmen for life, Coyote. Lead the way.”

If you had to spend one more minute squeezed up against this bar, wedged between a couple aggressively making out and a trio of rowdy Navy men who were trying to sing along to Queen, you were going to scream.

“Just come for a drink or two. This place is super chill for a Navy bar, I promise,” you muttered darkly under your breath, repeating the words your friend and new coworker had used to convince you to come out tonight.

Between a frantic weekend spent unpacking all of your belongings into your new studio apartment and a very long first week at your new job, all you had wanted to do was bury yourself under a blanket and watch Real Housewives until your brain melted out of your ears.

But you were trying to be more social. You wanted to focus more on your friendships. Do things that were good for you. That was the whole point of this move.

So instead, you were leaning so far over the bar top that you could feel the edge digging into your ribs, shouting a drink order at the (admittedly, very sweet and slightly overwhelmed) bartender. She had just placed the two beers and margarita you had asked for down in front of you when another hand appeared and tried to snatch them up.

“Hey!” you yelled, tossing the bills in your hand onto the bar as you reached up to catch the offender by the wrist before they made off with your hard-won drinks. “Asshole! Drop them, those are my beers! What the fuck?”

You swiped up the cocktail with your free hand, lest it meet the same fate and turned around to see what kind of absolute monster thought they had the right to steal drinks.

Annoyingly, he was beautiful.

Tall and broad, with sun-kissed skin and a blindingly-white smile, which held a hint of sheepishness as he realized that he had been caught red handed. There was something familiar about the way he ducked his head a little, before peering at you from beneath his eyelashes.

“Sorry about that, ma’am. I thought those were mine. Didn’t mean to steal from you,” his low, twangy drawl went right through you, settling warm and comfortingly in your stomach. “I’d offer to buy you a drink to make it up to you, but, well …”

Texas. That’s where that accent is from, you thought, instantly being transported back to your nursing school program in Austin. How many wannabe cowboys had spoken with that same drawl, trying to charm you and your friends during a night out? Not too many of them had succeeded with you, especially not after —

“Jake? Jake Seresin!?”

It had to be him. You’d know that smile anywhere, had seen those green eyes in your dreams for far too long after you both had moved on. He was bigger now, muscles more pronounced and jaw more defined, more of those cheeky smile lines creasing around his eyes. His voice was deeper too, some of his accent smoothed out after years in the military, but it had to be.

He swore under his breath, eyes widening as he made the connection as well. He practically whispered your name, as if it felt a bit rusty on his tongue, but the second you nodded, he repeated it louder, warmer, like he was slipping back into his favorite jacket.

“Shit, how long’s it been?” Jake wondered aloud, looking you up and down as if to make a note of every infinitesimal change that had occurred since you last saw each other. “You look amazing, darling. Beautiful as ever.”

You rolled your eyes but felt your cheeks heating up at his compliment. Jake always had a way of making you feel like the most special person in the room — but then again, he made everyone feel that way, as you later found out. “You look good too, Seresin. Like a proper, respectable Navy man,” you concede, though the words don’t sound nearly as begrudging as you hoped.

You’re rewarded with one of those thousand-watt grins and for a second, you’re back in a Texas dive bar, flirting with the most handsome man you’ve ever seen to the tune of some cheesy country-rap remix.

“I am good,” Jake promises, eyes locked on yours, and you think he might be back there with you, leaning up against the jukebox, the floors sticky under your feet. “I don’t know how respectable I am, but I am definitely good.”

His voice drags out that sentence, low and flirtatious, and butterflies fill your stomach the same way they did all those years ago. You can practically feel the ghost of his big hands on your hips, your lower back, caressing your cheek as the world disappeared around you that night, just the two of you creating your own little world in the corner of that dingy bar. Your lips part — to say what, exactly, you’re not sure — and you see his eyes drop to them for just a moment before —

The woman behind the bar calls out “Hangman!” with a tone of voice that makes it clear that it’s not the first time she’s said it and you both startle and turn to see her holding four bottles of beer out towards Jake, a look of exhaustion on her face. He jumps forward to take them, apologies pouring from his lips and he pointedly shoves several bills into the tip jar in order to earn an eye roll and a small smile from her. Two sweating bottles in each hand, he turns back to you and almost seems a bit relieved that you’re still standing there. (As if you’ve ever been able to walk away from him.)

“I have to drop these off with my friends,” Jake says, nodding to a table somewhere behind you, “And you should probably get those drinks to the people who sent you over here. But do — do you wanna catch up? There’s a deck out back with some tables, it’s usually pretty quiet this time of night.” He waits for you to nod, before pressing a quick kiss to your cheekbone. “I’ll meet you in five minutes.”

With one more charming smile, he’s off into the crowd and — not for the first time in your life — you’re left speechless and a little stunned, staring after Jake Seresin.

You’re not sure if the goosebumps on your arms are from the chill of the California evening or the way that Jake hasn’t stopped staring at you since he joined you outside on the deck. You shift slightly against the wooden bench of the picnic table, overwhelmed by the intensity of having all of the blonde’s attention on you again for the first time in a decade.

“So …” you begin, and your voice seems to startle Jake out of his thoughts slightly. “You’re a California boy now? I never thought you’d ever leave Texas.”

He grins and shakes his head slightly. “Well, when Top Gun calls and offers you a permanent station, you’d be a fool not to accept. And not to brag, but they do only offer that to the best of the best.”

“Please, Seresin. You love to brag,” you fire back, watching those green eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Well, it’s not bragging if it’s the truth. And the truth is, darling, that I am one hell of a pilot.” Jake takes a swig from his beer, before leaning a bit closer into you, like he wants to study your reactions. “What about you? What brings you out to sunny San Diego?”

“New job,” you say shortly, shrugging your shoulders as nonchalantly as possible. “Moved from the ICU to the ED, so I figured a change of location would go well with a change of pace.”

Your smile doesn’t quite meet your eyes and you hope he can’t tell. There’s no reason to tell your ex — boyfriend? Fling? — whatever that you followed a guy out here, especially since that whole — relationship? Affair? Complete and utter heartbreaking disaster? — situation crashed and burned almost immediately.

“Mmhmm,” Jake says, as if he can tell that’s not the whole story, and he takes another sip before seemingly deciding to let you off the hook. “And what did you boyfriend have to say about moving halfway across the country? Or did someone manage to finally lock you down after all these years?”

There’s a small, sinking feeling in your stomach as you think about the real reason you moved here for a brief, heartbreaking second.

“No boyfriend. No husband, either,” you say, wiggling your left hand at him in order to illustrate your point, and clock the way his eyes almost look relieved by the sight of your empty finger. “What about you, Seresin? Where’s your sweet, Southern wife?”

He laughs, a little cocky but a little hollow at the same time. “You know I don’t really do commitment, darlin’,” he jokes and, boy, do you, nights of watching him flirt with other girls while you pouted in the corner of the bar flashing in your brain. You take a long swallow of your beer — just like you used to swallow down your pride back then — and roll your eyes at him.

“I swear, you look exactly the same when you roll your eyes like that,” Jake says, his smile softening around the edges. “Nobody ever managed to make it quite as cutting as you.”

“Nobody’s ever been quite as annoying as you,” you fire back, but there’s no real heat behind it. Jake’s eye light up like you just gave him a compliment rather than pointing out that he knew exactly how to press your buttons when you were younger.

“I seem to remember you used to like it when I was able to make your eyes roll. Or, at least, when I could make them roll back into your head …”

You sigh, doing your best not to let on how much that comment made your face heat with decade-old memories of you two tangled up in your sheets. “There it is …” you begin, but he just leans into you a little more, those green eyes traveling all over your face as he speaks.

“I’m just reminiscing, that’s all. Can ya blame me? You’re still so beautiful …” Jake responds, one hand reaching out to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear. His fingers brush against your cheek as he pulls away and you hope you can explain away the goosebumps that erupt on your skin as a product of the ocean breeze. “And I spent a lot of time trying to get you all worked up back then. Force of habit.”

You could give into it.

Allow the sheer force of Jake’s charisma and good looks to carry you away on a wave of old memories. The chemistry that always fizzled between you is clearly still there, the butterflies that have laid dormant in your stomach all this time just waiting for an excuse to be let free once again. It would be easy.

And it would be good — you two had always been good at the physical stuff. He was so gorgeous in so many ways and surprisingly generous when you were in bed. (Jake always took pride in being the best of the best, after all).

But once you woke up tomorrow morning, after all of the awkward goodbyes and the promises to call, then what? Jake Seresin doesn’t commit; he made that clear.

And you were still bruised from your last mess of a relationship, your heart feeling tender and aching in your chest most days. There’s no way that this doesn’t end the same way it did a decade ago, with you sobbing uncontrollably and Jake moving on to the next beautiful girl who manages to hold his attention.

So, with a self-control you didn’t even know you possessed, you pull yourself out of Jake’s undertow.

“Seresin, I … that’s probably a bad idea,” you say softly, eyes dropping down to the tabletop in between you. “I just got out of a relationship and I’m not in a place —”

He cuts you off by tilting your chin up to look at him and then making a point to pull his hands back and keep them to himself.

“Hey, hey, I get it. No worries. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, darlin’” Jake explains in a rush. “I’m sorry about that. Like I said, force of habit.”

You huff out a laugh and another eye roll and you can see him fight a grin at your reaction. “Only you would describe flirting with someone as a habit, Jake.”

“Well, I’m one of a kind.”

“Shut up, Seresin,” you giggle, glad to be back on solid, friendly ground with him.

Two hours later, Jake sent you off with a hug and his phone number as you and your friend climbed into an Uber and set off for home. She had a few questions about the “dreamboat” of a Naval aviator that you had apparently dated back in school, but was a little too excited about recounting her own evening to push you for details. It wasn’t until you arrived back at your apartment and collapsed on your couch that you realized Jake had been texting you the whole time you were in the car.

Unknown: It’s Jake 🫡😜🤠⭐️🍻🏈😉

Unknown: Hope you get home safe, beautiful. It was great to catch up with you.

Unknown: And I would be an embarrassment to the U.S. Navy if I didn’t at least offer to be your tour guide around San Diego

Unknown: I know all the best spots after all

Unknown: So text me if you want to grab lunch or something

Unknown: Or if you finally want to learn how to surf

Unknown: But give me fair warning beforehand, I remember how bad your balance is lol

You: lol I forgot you text every single thought in your brain

You: but having a tour guide sounds nice

You: we could get brunch this weekend and you can give me the highlights?

You had only just begun to take your shoes off, resigned to finally get off the couch, when your phone pinged.

Jake 🤠 🧡: I know just the place

You gave his text a quick thumbs up and got ready for bed smiling the whole time.

-—-—-—-—-—

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! I don’t know if I’m going to have a regular schedule with this or anything, but I will do my best! Thank you for reading about the absolute menace that is Jake Seresin

Tagging some people who asked:

@tvshowgirl81 @redbarn1995 @stoneyggirl @keepingitlokiii @averyhotchner @dizzybee03 @olliepig @lynnevanss @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem @mamaskillerqueen @kmc1989 @hookslove1592

#top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun hangman #top gun maverick #jake hangman fic #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #hangman x reader #my fic #jake hangman x you #fic: it's a bad idea right?

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stardewsvalley · 12 hours

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Miles Teller as Lieutenant Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Top Gun: Maverick (2022) dir. Joseph Kosinski

#top gun maverick #miles teller #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #filmedit #filmgifs #moviegifs #mancandykings #dailyflicks #fyeahmovies #usermichi #usertennant #*mygifs

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seresinhangmanjake · 2 days

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Stolen Angel - Part 5

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. Eventual smut and happy stuff. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 3550

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

JAKE POV

Jake sighs at the knock on his door and sits up in his bed. It’s too early. Last night was long, watching you struggle to not verbally defy his every attempt to help you. But your wing was inflamed, which would soon lead to your back becoming inflamed, and he knows you’re intelligent but is it so hard to understand that not taking care of the injury could mean infection? Being here does not make you immune to such ailments and yet you puffed and huffed and barely held your tongue at his cleaning the area and applying a bandage with ointment. And just when you’d had a conversation with him about you being good. Terribly disappointing. You better shape up if you intend to get what you want.

“What, Javy?” Jake calls at the second knock.

Javy enters Jake’s room and leans against the door after closing it behind him. “So? You taking her?” he asks.

“Possibly,” Jake says, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “There are stipulations, but she’s determined. She’ll do whatever she has to to get there.”

Javy raises a brow. “Does that explain her cozying up to you yesterday?”

A slight smirk sneaks onto Jake’s face. ‘Cozying up’ is definitely one way to describe what you were doing the day before, although your actions were nowhere close to how affectionate you’re capable of being. There is plenty of passion in that body of yours that a few soft touches don’t do justice, but for now Jake will take what he can get.

“It does,” Jake confirms with a nod. “She’s my clever little angel, but manipulative attempt or not, it’s not like I’m going to push her away.”

“Oh no, of course not,” Javy snorts. “You? Do the respectful thing?” With a shake of his head, he lets out a low whistle to which Jake rolls his eyes. The sarcasm in his friend’s tone is wildly unappreciated.

“Do you honestly expect any better of me?”

“Not these days,” Javy says, “but is it so horrible of me to want you to see the error of your decisions and change? When I offered you a life here you were a different man.”

A different man. A weaker man. A man who had nothing left to live for.

Losing everything he once cared about—that is what changed him, but who’s to say the man he is today isn’t who he was always meant to be? Maybe it burrowed inside of him long ago and was waiting for the encouragement to expose itself. And what is so wrong about that? That doesn't make him a bad man.

He was a man who was missing the drive and purpose he needed. But then—despite being under the cruelest of circumstances—he found it. And when you find purpose you have to take hold of it and claim it any way you can before it’s ripped away from you. If Javy still can’t understand that then it must be the type of thing you have to live for yourself in order to grasp how it feels.

Jake’s eyes contain a challenge against his friend’s stare as he leans forward to brace his elbows on his knees and clasp his hands. “You try having Fate fuck you over, and then we’ll see the kind of man you become,” he says.

Javy sighs and crosses his arms. “I’m not denying the poor timing of your first meeting, but you coped with that for years, and now that you’ve snapped–”

“I haven’t snapped,” Jake snaps.

“Yes, you have. She was moving up in her life, finding some happiness, trying to make some friends at a new job, and then you took her,” Javy tells him, but not to chastise. That lecture was one Jake received weeks ago and Javy knows another won’t alter what has been done. “And you can’t keep her in The Tower forever. When this catches up with you—because it will—what do you intend to do?”

“She will love me by then.”

“You’re hoping she will love you by then,” Javy counters, “And you’re hoping when questioned, she’ll lie for you.”

Jake groans and shoots to his feet, running a hand through his hair. Gesturing in the general direction of your room, he says, “If she loves me then she’ll be lying for both of us because she’ll know it’s the only way we can be together.”

“And if she doesn't?”

“I'm not entertaining ‘if she doesn't’,” Jake says harshly. “She will. I’ll get rid of that stubbornness and she’ll remember why she wanted me in the first place.”

Javy pushes up from his leaned position, nearing the blond. “She wanted you because the two of you had some kind of carnal pull to one another, but–”

“It’s more than that,” Jake stops him. “We share more than that. She just refuses to see it.”

But you will. You’ll come to your senses. He knows that it’s more than sex, but it’s because of that sex that he believes something in you felt him over the years even though you did not see him. That’s why it was so easy to come together that night. You don’t sleep with just anyone. You’re picky and careful, as you should be, but you showed no reservations when giving yourself to him. You weren’t timid when he stripped you of your clothes; you were too focused on ripping him out of his. You weren’t embarrassed by your sweet moans and pretty cries. You were comfortable around him, and you will be again.

When Jake realizes Javy hasn’t spoken, he shoves his thoughts aside and pays closer attention to the look directed his way. It’s a medley of emotions. Skepticism and concern. Cautious hope and pity and acceptance. Acceptance of what, it’s hard to determine. Impending doom, likely, since Javy’s so sure of its inevitability.

Finally, Javy blinks. His lips stretch into a thin line, then he says, “Be smart about this, Jake.”

And Jake replies, “I’m always smart.”

“You're not,” Javy has no shame in telling him. “That's the problem.”

—

READER POV

“You can’t speak to anyone from your past, you can’t be seen by anyone from your past, you have to stay in my sight at all times, and you can’t do anything that would jeopardize our ability to return here on time,” Jake says. “You break any of these rules and I drag you back before midnight.”

Raising a brow, you cross your arms over your chest. “You think I can’t manage that? I’ve complied with everything you’ve asked of me for two whole weeks.”

Everything down to accepting his cupping of your cheek one night as he nearly kissed you. He hadn’t though, and his reasons for pulling back instead of taking what he wanted as he’s so used to doing robbed you of four hours of sleep.

“I wouldn’t put it past you to go rogue,” he says. “But you can’t. There are actual consequences I can’t protect you from.”

Yes, you know. He has mentioned that often. “Consequences, Angel. There are consequences to not following the rules.” For the last couple of weeks, it has felt like hours upon hours of the same droning on, the same lesson as if your short-term memory is flawed. But then he’d thrown in “It's your first time, and there’s a chance you’ll forget everything I’ve told you the minute you touch foot down there. You’ll be tempted to break them.”

That was what finally struck a cord of concern.

Of course, it had crossed your mind to break them, even though you’d known of Jake’s fate when he had done the same, but if he had to warn you of the temptation, you wondered how tempting it would really be. Would you be spending your precious, limited time there miserable because of the invisible chains on your wrists and ankles and the gag in your mouth as you try to resist the desperation to bond with the life you left behind?

“How tempted?” you had asked.

You were taken aback by one look from him. A harshness was in the green, but you are no fool, and you could see exactly what it was concealing. A memory—pain.

“Incredibly,” he’d told you. “At least, I was. And I paid for it.”

You hadn’t responded, but you kept his words in the back of your mind, ultimately deciding to trust in your strength. It was either that or risk never seeing home again, and that wasn't, and isn’t, an option for you.

“I’m not going to do anything, Jake,” you swear.

He peers into your eyes a little too long, but you let him search for the lie that isn’t there until he’s satisfied. He blinks and then gives a sharp nod. “Good,” he says. “Then close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them,” he repeats. “You don’t need to know how to get where we’re going.”

Another thing to comply with. Rolling your eyes, you drop your arms to your sides. Jake pulls a blindfold out of his jeans pocket and folds it in thirds.

“Seriously?”

He looks up and steps closer. “Close, your, eyes,” he instructs again.

With a sigh you do as he says, then he wraps the fabric around your head, tying a little knot in the back.

“This is–” Stupid, you were going to say, but you’re cut off by the yelp that escapes your throat when you’re suddenly lifted into his arms, your legs and wings draped over his forearms.

“Hold on Angel,” he says.

Your hands clasp behind his neck. “Yea, no kidding.”

When he shoots up into the air, you have to tuck your head against his t-shirt to block out the rush and whirl of wind that’s quickly encompassing you. It’s all too fast, the pressure much too extreme that you feel as if you’ve gained thirty pounds in ten seconds. It’s the initial take-off of the rollercoasters at the theme park you went to as a child. The kind of feeling that locks your limbs in place.

However, it’s not long that you’re going up before you begin to fall back down at a speed that suggests the man holding you can’t fly and you’re about to greet the end of your life. The sharp change in movement twists and curls your insides. Your lungs are confused, unsure whether inhaling or exhaling would better suit you at the moment. You don’t know, so you don’t breathe.

Jake lands with a thud and sets you down on wobbly legs. One large hand wraps around your upper arm; the other slips the blindfold over your head and back into his pocket. You’re well-hidden behind a large tree as your eyes adjust to the bright neon lights that bleed from the city night.

Home. You’re home. You’re at the far end of a sidewalk by the docks that no one visits after six o’clock in the evening, but it’s still home, and you already feel yourself being sucked in by the central bustle of bodies and cars.

You take a step forward, much weaker than you intended, and Jake’s grip on you tightens.

“Not yet,” he says. “You need to shed your wings.”

That detail had escaped you, the excitement too overpowering. But you keep that excitement from showing on the outside, just as you had when he’d told you a few days ago that removing the wings was possible for you, too.

Standing taller, you prepare yourself for more instructions.

“Close your eyes again,” he begins, his voice a deep vibration in your ear. “Clear your mind. Create an image of your wings and the feathers plucking free, falling to the ground one at a time until you have no more. Picture the bone and cartilage crumbling,” he says. “And keep doing that until you feel the loss of the weight.”

It takes at least a full minute, but you’re lighter. When you look down, your feathers coat the ground, a few layered with his. Like ash and snow.

“Good,” he says, but his tone doesn’t match the praise. It’s the slightest bit wounded as if he’s grieving something he held dear.

You turn your head. Your eyes flick to his and you find them glued to your back—your back which is now bare of the one thing that shows the world you’re something other than human.

His Adam's apple bobs. “Let’s go,” he says.

“Where can we?”

“Anywhere that keeps you from running into someone that would recognize you or would’ve been concerned about your sudden absence.”

That definitely knocks out work, the old late-night cafe you used to frequent, the park on third—too small. But as far as you know, everything else is fair game. And if it’s not, you’re sure Jake won’t hesitate to inform you.

—

The temptation he’d warned you about isn’t as aggressive as you anticipated. It’s there, for sure, but you don’t find yourself itching to be bold. There’s no one you wish to see, and you skirt the perimeters of the locations you choose because of the thought that you might fuck up and give him reasons not to bring you back in the future.

He should be thrilled with your behavior. He should be riding one of his ego trips from getting you to do what he wants without additional scolding, but that’s not what’s happening. Instead, he’s worse by the hour.

Occasionally his eyes light up when you smile or chuckle at the places and things you haven’t seen for the month that has felt like a year, but between your grins and laughs, his face hasn’t once failed to fall.

He has taken to trailing behind you. If both hands are not in his pockets it is because one is running through his hair or down his face. To your statements, he hums. To your questions, he mutters answers. He hates it, you realize. All of it. Almost as much as you hate the place he has forced you to exist in ever since he took you.

His mood is only exacerbated by your desire to go to your apartment.

“Can you hold this?” you ask as you raise the window. “Won’t stay up, and maintenance ignored all of my requests.”

Jake nods, placing his hand on the base of the sill so you can ease yourself through the opening. You do the same for him as he steps off the fire escape onto the ragged carpet of your living room floor.

You take in the space, and it’s so…weird. Not a thing has shifted from the place you left it. The only additions left out of the memory you’ve kept in your mind are the layer of dust coating every surface and the slip of paper under your front door with Eviction Warning written in red lettering. And the smell. It doesn’t smell like you remember. You’re not immediately soaked in the scent of lavender essence left over from the half-burnt candle on the side table.

“Feels like I’ve been gone forever,” you say. You look over your shoulder at Jake. “Does time move differently there and I just didn’t notice?”

His hands are back in his pockets. His eyes are tired. “No, Angel,” he says.

Your sigh fades into a hum.

As you move about the room, you measure it all with your eyes.

Your couch. You always sat on the right. That cushion is more worn than the other two.

The lampshade is still crooked from when you last changed the lightbulb. Its poor alignment had caused a slight burn mark in the material from the shade leaning against the heat of the bulb, and yet, rather than straighten it out, you had twisted it on its diagonal axis so the mark faced the wall.

The TV remote is nowhere in sight, of course, because you were never the best at remembering where you put it down; a habit so frustrating you’re tempted to hunt for it now.

Your coffee table still has the scratch in the middle from when you’d dropped your mug onto the wood, shattering it to pieces. That had pissed you off. You’d just bought it from the flea market.

A mug—you’d left one out that morning. You turn your head to your kitchen where it still sits on the counter.

You walk over and grab it. There’s a coffee ring in the bottom, so you take it to the sink and wash it out, then flip it over to dry on a dishcloth. You weren’t a fan of leaving dishes scattered about, even for half a day, but you don’t know why it ever mattered. Since moving in, no one had entered this place but you, and well…him.

Suddenly, something deep and thick descends upon you. Though the space around you appears to have frozen in time from the moment you disappeared, there are things that did not freeze along with it that you can’t ignore.

Like the food in your fridge and the special chocolate cookies in your cabinet that the grocery store rarely had in stock. Rotten and stale. What a waste.

There’s a plant in your bathroom—a little one that relied on your sense of responsibility to keep it alive. It sits on a shelf in a dark purple pot you’d found on sale and now brittle leaves surely litter the tiles.

And, oh god, the cat. You used to leave a bowl of tuna out for the stray cat that climbed the stairs to paw at your window. What about him? Is he ok? Did he give up after being ignored? How long did that take? Did he feel abandoned? Does he miss you?

Bracing your hands on the counter, your head falls forward. You close your eyes and take a breath, and then you open them and—Fuck, there’s a cheerio on the floor. You forgot the damn cheerio; that tiny ring of processed wheat from breakfast that has been hanging out here in limbo wondering if it’ll be trashed or devoured by ants because you were running late that morning and told yourself you’d throw it out later but you didn’t and so there’s a fucking cheerio on your floor.

You can’t look at it, but then you don’t know where to look, or what to do. You don’t dare go into your bedroom. The sheets will be rumpled. Your underwear will be wherever it landed when it was taken off your body and tossed aside.

Shit, the laundry! You forgot to take it out of the washing machine. Mildew probably grew in the creases and folds. They'll have to go through the cycle again. You'll need detergent. You're out of detergent—used the last of it on the load that needs to be rewashed. Your favorite t-shirts are mixed in there somewhere. But it’s fine. You’ll do a quick wash, quick dry, quick fold, and put them in the drawer where they belong. How long could that take? An hour? Two? You have enough time, right? And while you're at it you really should set some tuna out and get rid of the spoiled food and fix the lampshade and find the remote and apologize to the plant and–

“We can pretend, Angel,” Jake whispers from behind you, making you jolt in your spot. You didn’t hear his approach—he keeps doing that—and he’s so close that his breath flutters wisps of your hair. “Forget everything, for a bit. Be the way we were that night.”

His disruption sidetracks you from the laundry, the cheerio, the cat, the plant, the food. For a second, you can barely process his words, but it doesn’t take long for the confusion to sort itself out.

You swallow. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to be human anymore,” you whisper, reminding him of what he has drilled into your brain again and again and again.

“You’re not,” he says. Then his arms are flanking your sides, palms pressing into the edge of the countertop. “But we look the part, don’t we?” Hot air is on your neck. You think you can hear his heart thumping. “Just tonight. Just here.”

Just here. Here, the last place you were before he made you into the creature you are. Here, the last place you can say that you were entirely you. Here, the last place you spent a happy moment. Your final happy moment. A moment that included him, back when you believed you were bringing home some guy. Just some guy. A beautiful guy. A human guy.

You liked that human guy.

You miss that human guy.

Sometimes you wish he'd show up again. Save you and promise you it was all a nightmare.

“Why?” you ask.

“Don’t ask why,” he answers. “Just tell me yes.”

And because you don’t want to go back to thinking about what you’ve lost; because you’re uneasy and overwhelmed and numb and weak now that you're realizing home really isn’t home anymore but a ghostly echo of who you were, you don’t possess the mental wherewithal to care about your decisions. All you want is a memory—a good memory—within your reach.

So you turn yourself right around, and you kiss him.

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #demon!jake seresin #tgm fic #tgm #jake seresin x you

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mynameismckenziemae · 2 days

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Unbroken

Part 14

(previous part here)

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x You

Summary: It’s the end.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! A little smut, p in v, biting, a little exhibitionism (kinda?), use of a makeshift gag, overstimulation, etc.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A few weeks later on a beautiful spring Saturday, you became Mrs. Bradshaw.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the church as your dad escorted you down the aisle in a beautiful white gown (your mom insisted it was fine for you to wear white, since “no one’s a virgin anymore when they get married”) to Bradley, looking handsome as ever in his dress blues.

It was a small, intimate ceremony with only your family, Mav, and Penny present due to the short notice, but the plan was to have a larger reception the following year after the baby arrived.

After the emotional vows, exchanging of rings and the pronunciation of husband and wife, a small get-together is held at your parent’s house.

There are a few tears shed but a lot more laughter when the toasts are given. You notice Charlie discreetly switching her full flute of champagne out with Jake’s but he fails to notice.

It’s when she knocks over her chair in haste to get to the bathroom when Jake sets a plate of food in front of her that your suspicions are confirmed.

“You okay?” You ask when she comes back a few minutes later, leaning on your brother and pale as a ghost.

“Yeah,” she replies with a forced smile. But her lip begins to quiver before she bursts into tears.

“What’s wrong?” You ask as you rub her back. You look to Jake but he’s just as confused as you.

“I’m so sorry, I just found out this morning,” she sobs, “I didn’t want to take away from your special day and here I am making a big scene.”

“Found out what this morning?” Jake asks, still not connecting the dots.

“That I’m pregnant,” she replies, smiling briefly before her face crumples again. “I was planning on telling you tonight with this cute onesie and now I fucking ruined it like I ruined their wedding day-“

She cuts off with an ‘oomph’ as Jake wraps her in his arms. Even Mav has tears in his eyes at the scene unfolding.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you assure her, hugging her when it’s finally your turn. “In fact, the news made it even better.”

“Really?” She asks, wet tears hitting your shoulder.

“Really,” you confirm, laughing through your own as the news settles in. “Oh my God, this is amazing! Our babies are gonna grow up together, Charlie.”

“God help us all,” Tom mumbles, gasping when Ruth gives him a pinch. “Hey! I was kidding!”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Bradley takes you to a sleepy little beach town for your honeymoon/babymoon 3 months later, shortly after finding out you’re having a girl.

Her initial tiny flutters were turning into more pronounced kicks but Bradley had yet to feel anything. The little stinker ceases all movement the moment he touches your stomach.

The second trimester has been a breeze; the nausea is gone and your mood swings level out while your sex drive seems to increase with every passing week.

You’re insatiable, which isn’t a bad thing considering Bradley can’t keep his hands off your body, especially your growing belly.

“How do I look?” You ask under the shade of the cabana he rented as you drop your swimsuit cover revealing a bikini underneath before giving him a spin. “The top is a little small-“

You laugh as he desperately yanks down the sunshade, giving you some privacy.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Shhhh,” you shush him a few minutes later after he fails to bite back his groan as you ride him at a steady, unforgiving pace. “Gotta be quiet.”

“I can’t-fuck!” His eyes roll back when you pinch his nipple at the same time you pinch one of yours. “I’m trying.”

“Try harder,” you pant, smirking down at him. “Or I’ll make you.”

He chuckles breathlessly. “I’d like to see you try-shit,” he rasps when you lean forward to suck a bruise near his collarbone while your hand reaches for your discarded bikini bottoms.

His eyes fly open and his hips stutter when you force the material into his mouth, sadly muffling his wrecked sounds.

You’re getting close but he cums soon after, unable to hold off with you on top of him and the taste of your arousal on his tongue.

You ride him faster, pushing him into overstimulation as you chase your orgasm. He trembles under you and a quiet whimper escapes when you sink your teeth into his pec, right underneath the bruise you sucked moments earlier as the waves of pleasure wash over you.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“What about Iris?” Bradley asks, playing with your hair as he again searches for baby names.

Your first suggestion when you had found out her gender had been Carole or at least a variation to honor his mom, but he shook his head with an exasperated sigh before telling you how she forbade it after she got sick. Apparently, she had never cared for her name, but begrudgingly agreed to let it be a middle name; as long as the future mom agreed.

“Hmm?” You hum sleepily against his chest.

Between the sunshine, fresh air, and good sex, you’re ready for a nap. The slow swaying of the hammock you’re in isn’t helping.

“Iris. For her name,” he replies, setting his phone aside before kissing your forehead. “It’s pretty and it means ‘rainbow’; which is fitting since she’s a rainbow baby.”

Hot tears swim in your eyes as he heals yet another part of you that he didn’t break. You lift your head to look at him. “Yes. It’s perfect,” you whisper, tilting your chin to request a kiss. “You’re perfect. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies, bringing his arm around to palm your stomach. “And you, Iris Carole Bradshaw.”

That’s when she gives him her biggest kick yet.

“Whoa,” he laughs, delighted, “did you feel that? She kicked! Wow.”

“I think she likes the name too,” you smile, placing your hand over his.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Iris graces the world with her presence a few months later, followed by her cousin, ‘Lou’ Seresin not long after, both perfect in every way.

The end.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A/N: Welllllllll that’s the end! I’m not sure how to feel.

Sorry if it seemed rushed, I realize I really suck at wrapping things up 🥴

Anyone else want to cry when Bradley suggested the name Iris? 🙋🏻‍♀️

Also (maybe it’s obvious but just in case it’s not) Louisa is both a nod to Emma (middle name Lou) and Charlie’s late mama, Lisa.

If there’s anything you want me to add or answer, let me know! My inbox is always open ☺️

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!

Tagging (please let me know if you want to be added/removed!):

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

@lexixstewart

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@mrsrobertfloyd5

@charmedkim

@k-k0129

@bellaireland1981

@hookslove1592

@amiets2

@nero4te

@eli2447

@atarmychick007

@vixenobrian

@86laura11

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@dempy

@angelbabyyy99

@buckysteveloki-me

@djs8891

@mizzzpink

@daggerspare-standingby

@mrsevans90

@littlezee80

@emma8895eb

@jessicab1991

@devil-angel-winchester

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #top gun smut #jake seresin

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scottishaccentsareawesome · 2 days

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(after Hangman gets a job offer that'll take him halfway across the world for a long time) Rooster:...Jake, I love you. I don't wanna let you go. Hangman: Bradley, I love you, too. But this is a great opportunity, I have to take it. Look, everything's gonna be alright. You'll see. Rooster: No. No, it won't. We have to be together...always. Hangman: Look, Rooster, what do you want from me? Rooster: I want you...I want you to marry me! Hangman: What?! Phoenix, Coyote, Payback, Bob, Fanboy (who'd all been listening at the door and suddenly burst into the room): - WHAT?!

#incorrect quotes #top gun maverick #hangaroo #hangster #sereshaw #dagger squad #original: saved by the bell the college years #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #jake seresin #hangman seresin

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blazingstar29 · 2 days

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so the top gun fandom is kind of...dying. i mean i haven't posted anything on ao3 in two weeks which feels like an eternity but i promise i'm still here. i post a lot of shit on tumblr which is why i use my side blog more these days (@ethantalkstoomuch if you're interested if the complete rubbish i say sometimes)

but if theres anyone thinking of leaving the fandom as it's not as active, i promise you the people that are still here are exceptional and content is (to my understanding) still being made

#honeslty won't be mad about tg3 if it brings a new influx to the fandom i miss being so feral and obsessed #top gun 1986 #top gun maverick #*rattles cookie jar* c'mon guys please stay /j

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floydsglasses · 3 days

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This flopped on TikTok so I'm showing here because you all have ✨taste✨

This song has been on repeat lately and I just knew this would fit

#top gun maverick #top gun #dagger squad #topgunedit #top gun cast #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #mickey fanboy garcia #rueben payback fitch #javy coyote machado #floyd rants

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shakespeareanwannabe · 20 hours

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As You Wish, Chapter 10

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, panic attack, drinking, sadness, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, swearing, character falling in the pool

A/N: No flashback for this one because I wanted to jump right into the chapter you've all been waiting for!

Hotel Zaza, Now

Charlie kept her eyes peeled as she scanned the lobby for her mother, her father, and her potential future stepmother. She couldn’t believe that Uncle Bob had lost her mother. It was literally his only job in this whole operation.

Beside her, Natasha grumbled under her breath, echoing her thoughts. “…great WSO, terrible wingman,” she had just finished grumbling, leaning against a large white column as her one good eye surveyed the people coming and going. “Heads up, there’s your mom,” Nat jerked her head as Buttercup rushed from the elevator, clad in her yoga pants and tank top from earlier.

Charlie groaned as she saw her father and a blond young woman emerge from the crowd, the woman looking around as though looking for someone before heading to the front desk. “Oh crap, they’re gonna end up right next to each other!”

“Would it be so bad if they did? Takes the pressure off you and Abby to be the ones to reintroduce them,” Nat shrugged.

“I don’t know! Javy and Roo always made it seem like the world would end if my parents ended up in the same room together,” Charlie moaned, watching anxiously as her mother and the blond that she guessed was Savannah came closer and closer to each other, Jake trailing behind with his eyes on his phone.

Beside her, Nat rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, Javy always had a knack for the dramatic.”

“I thought you liked my dramatics, Phoenix?” a deep voice sounded from behind them, and they both turned.

Javy stood smiling at them; his thick arms crossed against his chest.

“Uncle Javy!” Charlie launched herself at him and found herself caught in his strong tattooed arms.

“Hey there, girlie!” Javy hugged her close for a moment before placing her back on her feet. “No warm welcome from you, Phoenix?” He held his arms open playfully, an earnestness twinkling in his eyes that Charlie wasn’t sure she’d ever seen before, but Natasha just scoffed.

“How about you do something useful and go stop your best friend from blowing this whole operation before it starts?”

Javy blinked at her, hurt flashing momentarily in his eyes before he crossed his arms. “Is that anyway to talk to your friend?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, turning her head slightly so that half her face was against the pillar. “We haven’t been friends in a long time, Machado.”

Javy’s shoulders bowed forward. “I know, but I never wanted it to be that way.”

“Then what did you want?” Natasha snapped.

Charlie huffed and turned away from them. The concierge desk had four people working at it, and, luckily, her mother was in line for the first person, and her dad was in line at the third. The odds of them seeing each other weren’t high, but Charlie didn’t want to take any chances.

With a gulp, she ran over to where her dad was in line, Savannah hanging all over him.

“Dad?” she hid her trembling hands. She had missed him so incredibly much, despite being so angry with him for hiding her mother and sister from her. He was still her dad and she hadn’t seen him in over a month, so while she really wanted to give him a hug and never let him go, she instead hid her hands behind her back and waited for him to respond.

Jake disentangled himself from Savannah, turning to her with a bright smile on his face. “Hey sweetheart, did you and Rooster find the pool?”

“Yeah, but…they don’t have any change rooms!” she blurted out the first excuse that came to her mind. “Could you show me where our room is so I can get changed?”

Savannah pouted before Jake could even open his mouth. “Sugar, we’ve got to meet the wedding planner.”

Jake fixed her with a look that had her pouting bottom lip sucking back in. “And we’ll have plenty of time to do that. But I’m not allowing my daughter to wander around the hotel alone. C’mon, Charlie. I’ll take you up to the room.”

Charlie felt a smile creep onto her lips. “Thanks dad.”

Savannah sighed, a dramatic, long-suffering thing, before she nodded. “Fine. Let’s go back to the room. But then we have to meet Phillipe.”

Charlie glanced at her father’s face quick enough to catch the tail end of him rolling his eyes. “Yes, dear.”

Charlie stifled a giggle as they weaved through the crowded lobby and hustled into the glass elevator. Savannah pouted and leaned her back against the glass as Jake punched their floor number before taking the two steps towards her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“It’ll take five minutes, tops,” he murmured, pressing a placating kiss to her hair as the car started to move, rising them up above the lobby.

Jake glanced down, always having loved heights, even if he was only going a few stories high, and his heart stopped.

There, standing below them, waiting for the next elevator car, was…

But it couldn’t be. She wouldn’t be in Texas. There was no way. She had practically sworn off the States after the papers had been approved, even going so far as to take her brother and her closest friend with her when she had basically fled.

Jake blinked, but the phantom from his past didn’t disappear. Instead, she raised a timid hand and waved at him, a small smile tugging on her lips.

Jake felt his knees begin to buckle, and it had nothing to do with the elevator car coming to a halt or his girlfriend—no, fiancée—kissing his neck.

She was here. His Buttercup…she was here. In the same hotel as him. In the same hotel as him and Charlie. Did that mean Abby was with her?

Jake’s heart began to race. She was here. She was here.

The second her dad and Savannah wandered off to meet Phillipe, Charlie scurried back to the elevator, rode it two floors down, and practically sprinted to her mom’s room, where she knocked rapidly.

Her own familiar face opened the door and she smiled brightly. “Abby!”

Abby returned her hug with fierce strength. “Charlie!”

They stood standing, smiling at each other for a moment before a deep voice interrupted them. “You two are gonna blow our cover if you keep standing out there for the world to see you.”

Charlie grinned and sprinted at her uncle. “Uncle Roo!”

He scooped her up with his usual begrudging smile. “Hey kid. Good to see ya. Now get your butts inside before someone spots you.”

Both girls rushed into the room, both smiling at Bob where he lounged on the bed.

“Crisis averted?” he teased.

Abby glared playfully. “There wouldn’t have been a crisis if you hadn’t lost our mother.”

“I had to take a phone call,” he defended, a small smile playing on his lips. “Where is your mom?”

“I’m right here.”

Abby turned and spotted her mother, standing in the doorway that connected the two rooms.

“Mum!” she launched herself across the room and was caught by those soft, strong arms that wrapped around her fiercely.

“Oh my girl…” Buttercup whispered into her hair. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Abby whispered into her mother’s neck, feeling the tears stinging her eyes. As much as she had loved being with her dad and uncles, she had missed her mother just as much. Her warmth, her strength, her slight floral smell, the way she laughed. All of it. “I’m sorry I went to Texas without telling you.”

Buttercup sniffled and straightened. “I understand why you did, baby. However, what I don’t understand…” she placed her hands on her hips. “Is why your father just looked at me like he had no idea I was on the same planet as he is, let alone the same continent.:

Abby stepped back, falling into line with Charlie, and they both gulped. “What do you mean?”

“Your father spotted me when he was riding the elevator up, and, from the look on his face, he had no idea I was going to be here.” She looked between them sternly. “You did tell him that I was going to be here, yes?” As the two sisters stared at each other guiltily, she groaned. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Well, mum…” Abby started. “You see, we…that is to say, Charlie and I…”

Rooster and Bob started to edge around the room towards the front door, but Buttercup held a finger up at them.

“Freeze, you two!” she barked. “You allowed my daughters to—to—bamboozle us this way?”

Bob tensed while Rooster purposefully dropped his shoulders. “Bamboozle you how?” he asked, a forced calmness in his voice.

Buttercup huffed. “What is this? Is this about you still not believing that a divorce was the best course of action for us, Bradley? Or about how you always thought we should have tried harder with the custody arrangement, Bob?”

Charlie stepped up. “It’s not their fault, mom. We…we wanted you and dad to be happy.”

Buttercup couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that escaped her. “And how is cornering your father on the tour of his wedding venue going to make him happy?”

Charlie felt herself flush and she opened her mouth, but it was Abby who spoke first. “We don’t want to have to live with this custody arrangement anymore, mum. We were hoping that, if you and dad saw each other again, you’d be able to figure out another way, so we can share the two of you instead of having to live separate lives.”

Buttercup folded in on herself, arms crossing in front of her, not defensively, but protectively. “I…I know the custody arrangement wasn’t fair to the two of you. I…you’ll never know how sorry I am for that. But forcing your father and I into this…” she shook her head. “Why didn’t you just talk to me? Talk to us? Especially once you met at camp.”

“Mum…” Abby bit her lip. “I wanted to. I really did. But you always seemed so hurt whenever I brought up dad, and…and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I wanted to talk to you too, but…” Charlie gulped. “But I was so scared that you wouldn’t love me if I pushed you to talk to dad. And I was terrified that you were going to say no.”

Buttercup drew in a deep breath and her shaky exhale drew the attention of Rooster and Bob, still edging towards the door. They paused in their quest for freedom, and Bob looked tempted to approach his sister, but Rooster’s hand on his shoulder stilled him.

“I…I’m so sorry, girls,” Buttercup whispered. “I wish I could do it all different. I wish that things had turned out differently for all of us. I wish that your father and I—”

The door that stood mere feet from Rooster and Bob burst open, letting in a bickering Natasha and Javy. Buttercup jumped as their voices raised.

“—I never said that!”

“Oh, but you implied it! How else was I supposed to take that?”

“You can take it and shove it up your—”

“Enough!” Buttercup shouted, bringing the room to a standstill, quiet as a pin-drop. Her hands covered her face, and it was only the keenest of eyes that could pick up the slight trembling of her limbs. “The four of you—” she shot a pointed look at the four retired aviators in the room. “Owe me a massive explanation for why you thought it was okay to manipulate J-Jake and I. I trusted you. Natasha, you and Bob know how I felt about this meeting and you still decided to blindside me. And I’m sure Jake will feel similarly once he finds out that his two closest friends are pulling the rug out from under him while he’s planning the happiest day of his life. And girls? There are so many reasons why what you did is not okay. First, switching places at camp and now forcing your father and I into close proximity. I’m trying to be understanding but…” she sighed heavily, her hands sagging back to her sides. “I need a drink,” she murmured, backing towards the door. “You four can watch my daughters,” she added with a glare at the four adults quietly sulking around the edge of the room.

Looking down at the guilt-ridden faces of her daughters, Buttercup sighed and stooped to hug them both into her arms. “I love you both,” she whispered, sniffling slightly. “I’m not mad, I’m just…I need some fresh air. Stay here. Please.”

With another small sniffle, she turned and fled the room, leaving six guilty parties staring after her.

Jake found himself boring holes into the ugly paisley wallpaper of the hotel hallway, listening to Phillipe yammer on about some special flooring package. Or was it a floral package? Either way, Savannah seemed thrilled and was too busy chatting with her new bridal BFF to notice that her future husband hadn’t said a word since the elevator.

Buttercup was here. In Texas. He hadn’t seen her since…

His stomach roiled at the thought of their last meeting, the tears they had both shed as they left their wedding rings on the table and said goodbye to one of their daughters. Her tear-stained face and the gauntness of her cheeks, the bags under her eyes. His memory was in sharp contrast to the woman he had seen in the lobby, all full cheeks and glossy hair, all smiles as she had waved at him.

He shuffled his feet as a funny feeling exploded in his stomach at the thought of her. It was Abby. It had to be because of Abby. Jake hadn’t held his daughter in over ten years, and if she had come to Texas with her mother…

Jake’s hand dove into his pocket before he could second guess himself. He wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to see his daughter. And if his chest tightened at the idea of seeing his ex-wife? That was just the nerves talking, of course.

“Hey, sweetheart?” Jake called, his eyes widening theatrically. “I just got a call from Sarah. Our vet on staff? Apparently something came up on one of the horses tests and she wants to talk to me about our options. She says it’s urgent, otherwise I wouldn’t be asking. But why don’t you and Phillipe make some decisions and you can tell me all about them later?”

Savannah pouted and Jake was honestly a little surprised that she didn’t stomp her foot for emphasis. “But Jakey!”

“I know, sweetheart,” he crooned, his feet already shuffling him away towards the door. “But I trust you. You can make whatever choices your heart desires. I just want you to be happy with this wedding.”

Apparently, he had said the magic words because Savannah turned back to Phillipe without another word to Jake and said, “In that case, what about the premium lighting package? Can we add more chandeliers?”

Jake ignored her as he took off towards the elevator, wondering where he should even start looking. The hotel was huge, but he would knock on every door he could if it meant finding his Buttercup. Jake shook his head at himself. No. He wouldn’t allow himself to go down that path. He was searching for Abby. His daughter. Not his ex-wife. However…his daughter was likely to be wherever his ex-wife was, so he supposed he would have to search them both out. But where the hell to start?

Jake exited the elevator onto the main floor and scanned the lobby. His Buttercup wasn’t much of a gym fiend, more into home yoga and cardio than anything, so the gym was out. She was an author, he knew, but it didn’t seem likely that she would be in a conference room.

Jake paused and leaned against a white marble pillar. He had to think. Think like Buttercup. She liked the water, he remembered. They had had way too many fun memories on the beaches of Coronado for him to pick just one favourite, but the way she had smiled at him while surrounded by the sun and sand and surf was enough to warm his soul even ten years later.

The mere thought of it had him turning and racing down the hall towards the indoor pool. He quickly palmed his keycard against the magnetic lock and stepped into the room, almost taking a step back when the overwhelming smell of chlorine caught his nose, but he persisted, doing a quick lap of the pool and surrounding deck chairs to try to spot Buttercup or Abby.

“Sir, can I help you?” a lifeguard regarded him suspiciously, and Jake took a second to realize how it must have looked, a fully dressed man scanning every woman and child in the pool room.

“Sorry,” he felt himself redden. “I just thought…my wife said she was heading to the pool with our daughter, but I don’t see her.” He didn’t see Charlie either, but he had enough questions on his mind to wonder where she might have gotten to.

“She might’ve meant the rooftop pool,” the lifeguard offered helpfully. “There’s a cabana bar and a waterslide that the kids really seem to love.”

“Thanks, man,” Jake replied, already turning on his heel to head back to the elevator. Of course, she would head to the rooftop pool instead of the indoor pool. She hated the smell of chlorine and she always said the water felt better when you could feel the breeze in your hair. She was up there. Jake could feel it in his bones.

Buttercup placed the glass back on the bar with a little more force than necessary before meeting the bartender’s gaze and saying, “Another one, please.”

He frowned a little disapprovingly but poured her another rum and Diet Coke, her second since sitting down at the cabana bar next to the pool five minutes ago.

I love my daughters. I love my family. I love my friends. I love my daughters. I love my family. I love my friends. I love my daughters…she chanted to herself as she sipped the second drink slowly. What they had done, tricking her here on some half-cocked dream of getting her and her ex-husband back, was so far over the line that she was fairly certain they didn’t even know where the line was anymore, but she loved them. Her daughters especially had their hearts in the right place, and she couldn’t fault them for wanting a normal dynamic between their parents. It’s what she herself had always wanted for her family. But things didn’t always turn out the way you dreamed. That was made especially clear to her when she spotted the bottle blond wrapped around her ex-husband, at least ten years her junior and basically painted into her blue jeans. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was her daughters. She would face Jake. She had to. She wouldn’t live a life without Charlie, not anymore. She wouldn’t fight him for full custody, but she would do everything in her power to make 50/50 possible for her girls. She could do that much for them…after she had another drink.

She threw back her second drink and asked the bartender for another one. He rolled his eyes but poured the drink and handed it to her before moving off to clear up some of the glasses that had been left on the poolside tables. Her eyes followed him as she nursed her third drink, tracking his movements as he collected glass after glass before her eyes caught on a figure rapidly approaching from the roof’s door.

“Buttercup?”

Her stomach roiled, and she decided that three drinks in less than ten minutes was a bad idea. “Oh god,” she whispered, turning away from him and stumbling to her feet. She couldn’t do this. She wouldn’t do this while drunk. She needed to be stone cold sober to be able to face him, otherwise she’d make a fool of herself. And she had promised herself that she would never make a fool of herself in front of Jake Seresin ever again.

Buttercup quickly straightened and walked away from him. If someone accused her of running away from him, she would have no defence but that didn’t matter to her. She wouldn’t face him until she was confident in herself, and she couldn’t be less confident after three drinks.

Buttercup passed the bartender as she heard Jake’s footsteps pounding behind her. “Buttercup, wait!”

“Don’t call me that,” she whispered, feeling her heart pound at his nearness.

“Buttercup, I—”

A loud crash sounded behind her, and Buttercup spun on her heel to see what was happening, but she didn’t see anything before her flip flop caught on the tile of the pool and she stumbled unsteadily, falling backwards right into the pool.

The chill of the water immediately sobered her as she flailed in the deep end, trying to figure out which way was up before a strong arm wrapped around her waist and tugged her to the surface.

She gasped as the fresh air kissed her face, that arm not leaving her as it towed her towards the edge of the pool.

“Th-thank you,” she panted, frantically pushing her wet hair from her eyes.

“Don’t mention it…” an achingly familiar voice replied, deep and playful with a beautiful Texan twang.

Buttercup clutched the edge of the pool as she blinked, her vision clearing enough to see Jake Seresin a mere foot away from her, his dark blond hair plastered to his forehead and his white button-down shirt almost see-through.

“J-Jake…”

He grinned, that cocky grin that she had always hated because it meant his shields were up. “You weren’t trying to run away from me, were you?”

“No!” she shivered and started pulling herself along the pool’s edge towards the stairs. “Don’t be so full of yourself. Not everything is about you.”

Jake chuckled as he did the butterfly stroke beside her, easily keeping pace as she clumsily looked for an escape. “But it’s so much fun to think that everything is about me,” he grinned a Cheshire cat smile at her that would’ve had her defences melting a decade ago.

Buttercup reached the pool’s ladder and didn’t have it in her to swat away Jake’s hands on her waist to help steady her as she climbed out of the pool, a staff member greeting her with a fluffy white towel as she stood in her dripping clothes. Jake smoothly exited the pool next to her and wrapped the towel around his shoulders.

“So, are you saying you’re not in Texas to see me?” Jake asked, his green eyes glinting in her direction.

Buttercup swallowed. “As a matter of fact…” She had to tell him. She had to just come out and say it. It wasn’t fair to the girls to make them do it, and it wasn’t fair to him to keep him waiting. “I am here for you. And I thought you were here for me.”

Jake’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Mum!”

“Dad!”

Both jolted away from each other, not realizing how much they had moved into each other’s space as they talked.

Abby and Charlie stood before them, mouths gaping.

“What on Earth did you do?”

“Why did you go swimming in your clothes?”

Buttercup pulled the towel tighter around her shoulders as Jake turned and gaped at the two almost-12-year-olds standing in front of him.

“Did I hit my head when I jumped into the pool after you?” Jake murmured, not taking his eyes off the two girls.

Buttercup shook her head. “No…they’re both here. It’s…kind of a long story.”

One of the twins gulped. “Please don’t be mad.”

“It’s not Mum’s fault.”

“We met at camp—”

“—and we figured out that we’re twins, and—”

“—and we decided to switch places—”

“—because we wanted to meet you and—”

Jake crouched in front of them as they rambled and slowly, carefully, placed a hand on each of their shoulders before pulling them into a tight hug.

“I don’t care,” he whispered tightly, cradling them both against his strong body as years of pent-up longing and grief threatened to spill out over his cheeks. “I don’t care how it happened. I’ve waited years to hold you both in my arms again. So that’s what I’m going to do.”

He pulled them even tighter against his chest and his heart fractured as he felt them—both of them—wrap their arms around him. And if a few tears fell, then who could blame him?

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#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #jake seresin #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #glen powell #as you wish fic #parent trap au

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indybob · 3 days

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Married hangster energy

#love that each message could be either one of them #though the blue message is giving me jake vibes tbh #married hangster #hangster #sereshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #incorrect top gun maverick quotes

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vivwritesfics · 1 day

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Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash

Chapter One

Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.

Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader

Warnings: Allusions to smut

1.5K

In her defence, she didn't realise that The Hard Deck was a navy bar. She just wanted a drink, a moment of peace before she got back onto the road.

It was empty as she sipped her very first drink, savouring it. The longer she sat there, the longer she had to spend I'm San Diego, away from her family. But that was entirely intentional.

By the time she finished her first gin and tonic (something she had gotten a taste for because of her brother). The bar began filling up. She stood up from her seat, fished her keys from her pocket, and moved to leave. But she found herself back in her seat, found herself intrigued.

These navy men weren't like the men she hung around with. They were bigger, much more muscular. She watched from the corner of her eye as a few of them played pool.

"Would you like another?" The bartender asked kindly.

She immediately went to stand. "I can come and get it," she said, but the bartender shook her head, promising to bring another gin and tonic to her. Another gin and tonic and she wouldn't be able to drive.

As she sipped her second gin and tonic, a man walked in. The only similarity he had to the navy men was that he had aviators low on his nose. It didn't matter that it was dark outside, he sill wore them. A hawaiian shirt was on his body, open to reveal the white beneath. She'd seen her share of moustaches on friends, fellow drivers, her heroes growing up, but none of them looked as good with one as he did.

Colour her intruiged. She sat back as she watched him, sipping her drink as he wandered over to the bar and ordered himself a beer. As soon as the beer was in his hands he was walking over to the group playing pool behind her.

She lost sight of him then, but thought nothing of it as she drank. Two drinks and that would be her lot.

The man in the hawaiian shirt walked past her. He sat at the piano and pressed a few of the keys. His aviator friends surrounded him, singing along with joy as she played.

She couldn't look away from any of them. It was quite a sight. She had seen similar celebrations in her own line of work, like when her brother won his first championship.

He finished playing and everybody returned to what they were doing. His aviator friends walked past her in her both as they headed back to their drinks and to play pool. He went to do the same. She watched his watched the way he held his beer in his large hands, the way his hawaiian shirt moved around him.

But, suddenly, he was sliding into the seat opposite her. She couldn't hide her surprise as he sipped his beer and said "Hi."

That was it. Just 'hi'. She'd been chatted up so often in her line of work, she thought she was immune to it. But one little word from the gorgeous man across from her and she was ready to melt.

But she held her composure. The way his dark eyes stared into her own, the way a small smile played beneath his moustache, wasn't making it easy. "Hey," she responded almost nonchalantly as she picked up her drink. She'd been trained by her media team for stuff like this. But, one look at the man in front of her, and she wanted to forget it all.

"I haven't seen you around here," he continued.

She didn't think he knew who she was, but this confirmed it. It sent sparks through her. This was freedom.

"I'm just stopping by," she replied, a smile playing on her lips.

He held his large hand towards her. "I'm Rooster," he said.

She took his hand and shook it. "Well, Rooster. Do you always sit with random girls in bars?" She asked.

For a moment, a very brief moment, panic shot through him. But as soon as he saw the smile playing on her lips, he immediately relaxed. "Only the pretty ones," he replied.

She saw an opportunity. "Well, if I'm so pretty, then you wouldn't mind telling me your real name. Because I'm betting its not Rooster."

He shook his head. "You're right, it's not actually Rooster," he answered. "I'm Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw."

In return, she gave him her first name and her first name only.

"Have you got a last name?" Bradley found himself asking.

The name suited him. Bradley. She hadn't said it outloud yet, but couldn't wait to feel it on her tongue. Even if it was for only one night.

She didn't tell him her last name, instead pulling out her I.D card to get him to read it. He took it, the I.D card looking tiny between his fingers. "Ver... Vershtap..." He tried to say it again, trailing off in a mumble.

"Close," she laughed. "Verstappen."

Bradley continued to blankly stare at her. So she decided to teach him. "Repeat after me. Ver."

"Ver," Bradley repeated. She couldn't help but laugh, it wasn't like it was difficult to pronounce.

"Stap."

"Stap. Verstap," he said nodding.

"Pen. Verstappen."

"Verstappen," he said slowly. But then he said it quicker, surprising himself with just how easy it was. "It's pretty, where is it from?" He asked and took a swig of his beer.

"It's Dutch," she answering, curling her fingers around her glass. "On my dad's side."

Bradley said her name in full. The way it rolled off of his tongue, she could have listened to it forever.

He looked at her I.D again. His face dropped. "You're twenty five?" He asked in surprise.

She nodded her head and sipped her gin.

"I'm thirty six," he replied.

Bradley went to stand up, to take his beer with him, but she shook her head. "It's not a problem with me," she said and he stilled. "You're younger than my brothers girlfriend and that is my threshold."

So, Bradley sat back dow. As they drank, they spoke. Bradley got her another drink when hers ran dry.

"What are you doing here in San Diego?" He asked as he slipped into the seat beside her.

She tapped her nose. "That's for me to know," she said and giggled. But she really wasn't going to tell him. She'd learnt by now that, once somebody knew who she was, they started treating her differently.

She didn't want that with Bradley.

She didn't know when they started kissing. But her hands were in his hair and she could feel his moustache against her lip. Bradley had his hands on her ass, squeezing lightly as he pulled her onto his lap. "You wanna head back to mine, find out why they call me Rooster?" He whispered against her lips.

She pulled away and nodded her head. At that, Bradley squeezed her hip. "I'm gonna need your words, pretty girl," he said and she kissed him again.

"Yes, Bradley," she said, her forehead against his. "I want you to take me back to your place and show me exactly why they call you Rooster."

Bradley grinned. He took her hand and led her out of the hard deck. As he took her past the other daggers, Nat sent a wink his way.

"Which one if yours?" She asked. She wasn't going to point out her car to him, the McLaren she was currently borrowing from the man that had taken her job. But more on that later.

Still holding her hand in his, Bradley took her over to the Ford Bronco.

She let out a whistle. "This is sweet," she muttered as she looked around it.

Bradley beamed. His Bronco was his pride and joy. "You know about cars?" He asked and she nodded her head.

"You could say I'm a car mechanic," she said and giggled.

Bradley opened the car door for her and helped her into the Bronco.

She fiddled with the radio for most of the ride back to his place. Normally Bradley was precious about his radio. He had it set to a station he liked, and nobody was allowed to change it. But he didn't mind when she did it. When she found a station she liked, she settled back in the passenger seat of his Bronco and hummed along.

Bradley was a gentleman. As soon as he pulled the Bronco into the driveway of his house, he opened the door for her and took her hand as she jumped out. He pushed the door shut and immediately pressed his lips against her own, hands cradling her head as he gently pushed her against the Bronco. She couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her lips. "Fuck," she whispered against his soft lips. She'd never kissed someone with a moustache before, it was a different sensation, brushing against her lip as she fought for control.

She pulled back, chest heaving as she stared at him. "So, you gonna take me inside or what?"

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