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inmyloveworld

1 year ago

as usual (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)

word count: ~3.7k

synposis: the time for you to meet the Hard Deck, and the Daggers frequenting it, has finally come. but some digs on the oldest aviator of the bunch in front of his younger partner leave a tension between you that begs to be broken.

warnings: age gap (unspecified but in my mind was about 10 years), assumed alcohol consumption, allusions to anxiety, use of the pet name "bunny", jake is an instigator

a/n: this was NOT going to be this long in my head but once i got writing i could not stop.. enjoy some more self-indulgent comfort angst from me!

As Usual (bradley "rooster" Bradshaw X Reader)

As usual, Bradley pulled up to your apartment complex right after a long day on base. And as usual, you were standing in the window like a pup waiting for its owner to come home. He made the comparison in earnest. It melted him to know someone was that excited to have him near, that you were that excited to have him near.

He could barely make it out of the Bronco before you were bounding out your door and down the stairs. Bradley had just rounded the passenger side when you reached him. The sinking sun somehow made your eyes sparkle brighter. Butterflies flew in his stomach, and a lovestruck grin spread across his face. Gentle hands caressed your hips as his caramel gaze took you in closely.

"Did you manage to lock the door?" Bradley teased. You softly grunted at the dig, feigning annoyance in a half frown. The front door and you were nothing if not eternal foes, and Bradley knew of this conflict too well.

"I resent that, I really do." His responding laugh was all it took to break your weak facade. A smile overtook you as you lit up once again to be in his presence. Your hands found home at the base of his neck as your lips greeted each other. Seconds moved in hours whenever you kissed Bradley Bradshaw. He made the noise of the world lift into a soft hum with every touch.

It was understandable that you whined whenever he pulled away. "We're gonna be late," Bradley bargained. Your mouth fell into a soft pout that he was happy to peck away into a smile, and into giggles once his lips found your cheeks, and nose, and temples.

"I thought you said we'd be late!" you laughed as you batted him away to slip into the passenger side. He held the door open for you, like the gentleman Carole had raised him to be. Then he bent to kiss you more softly, like the gentleman his father was.

"You are always worth it." You couldn't fight the flush that broke onto your cheeks to crowd the makeup already present. Blush served little purpose with Bradley lighting your cheeks aflame every chance he got. Nor highlighter, with the glow you seemed to emanate since the day he walked into your life.

His hand found home on your thigh, yours placed atop it to toy with his calloused fingers. The Bronco drove off to the famed bar where he and his naval companions flocked. Such companions were eager to meet the girl who settled their "Rooster" into domestic life.

"Cupid's sure been hard at work," Phoenix remarked upon catching her best friend cheesing at the texts you sent him. Whatever force in the world brought you to him, be it Cupid or God or Nick and Carole themselves, he was grateful. Never had he felt so complete.

"How was work today, bunny?" Bradley asked. A simple question most would roll their eyes at, you jumped to answer. You were eager to tell him of every detail: the pesky clientele, the interdepartmental dramas, even how poorly the coffee was brewed. Excitement ran through you and, by proxy, to Bradley. "Bunny" was a nod to the energy that filled you and energized others, much like the battery mascot.

Your anecdotes filled the minutes driving through the bustle of San Diego rush hour. Bradley glanced over at you every chance he got, adding in commentary where he saw fit but mostly admiring the expressions taking over your face.

He could listen to you ramble for hours, he was certain, as you did for him in his own moments of boundless vigor. An equal partnership seemed unattainable with the women he'd met through the years yet came easily with you.

What place did age have to stall a feeling like that?

Some last-minute Bronco kisses had you and Bradley walking into the Hard Deck five minutes behind schedule. His arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand tucked into the front pocket of your jeans to keep you snug against his side. Still, he let you lead the way, content to follow you wherever you found your feet.

You gawked at the space already half packed with people in uniform, a few civilians bridging the gaps. Various signs and regalia littered the space between windows. The perfect sunset view of the beach was on every wall. Miniature aircraft figures crowded the ceiling in permanent flight.

"Is this place for real?" you remarked, earning a kiss on your cheek from Bradley.

"That it is, bunny. As far back as my pops and Maverick," he answered, stopping as he caught his first familiar face. Bradley took the moment to lead you, bringing you to an open space at the bar. "And now in the hands of this lovely lady here. You remember-"

"Penny!" The excitement in your voice brightened the owner right up. Bradley's heart performed somersaults at your cheer. "This place is incredible!"

Penny tried to humble herself under your praise. "Hey, it's the nicest Navy daycare I could imagine." You giggled at the quip, making her break a smile. You quizzed her on her run of the bar as she pulled a draft for Bradley and mixed a margarita for you. The two of you initially met when Bradley brought you to Maverick's hangar. She was just as endeared then as she was now by your bright spirit and compassion for others.

Once you were settled with your drinks, you attempted to tip her out. Penny was quick to push the cash back at you with a wink. "On the house for you tonight. Call it my welcome gift." You must have thanked her half a dozen times as you moved across the bar. A small table against the wall was your target; somewhere to ground your drinks for when you inevitably got spotted-

"Bradshaw!" The time came sooner than you predicted. A brunette tagged with a name you'd heard too many times to count found her way to you. A man in true aviator glasses followed closely behind. Part of you tensed in anticipation. Still, your outgoing nature won over any resistance.

"Phoenix? Bradley has told me so much about you!" You reached out a hand to her. Her eyes slowly followed the gesture as if examining it.

Phoenix took her time to speak up. "So you're the one who's got Bradshaw off in la-la land?"

You blinked, trying to read into her tone. "I-I think so?"

"Phoenix, play nice," Bradley warned. She scoffed at him, finally grabbing your hand to shake.

"I haven't seen the old bird this happy in ages," Phoenix said as she met your eyes. A real smile tugged at her mouth. You were quick to mirror it as you relaxed. "Keep him that way; he flies better."

Bob followed up with his own introduction. It was hard for Bradley to contain his joy at the moment, even with the slight brows Phoenix threw his way. He hadn't told her the details of the age difference in passing; he hadn't thought it important. Bob was none the wiser, simply offering a game of darts to share amongst the four of them.

"Oh, I LOVE darts!" you exclaimed. "But be warned, it's rare that I actually hit the board."

Phoenix chuckled. "Your boy's not too good himself. We ought to split you apart so Bob and I are more evenly matched." Bradley rolled his eyes, though the interaction had his heart soaring. You were happy as can be getting to know his closest friends. They seemed happy as can be getting to know you.

Questions were passed between throws, Bob asking about your work and Phoenix asking about your relationship. It was the kindest form of interrogation you could've envisioned. Meanwhile, the empty pool table behind you was beckoning another group of aviators in your direction.

The tallest of the trio, a man with a square jaw and dark eyes, was quick to single you out. "Now, who's this pretty young thing you guys rounded up to play?"

You turned to make his acquaintance briefly, your usual cheery demeanor receding some. No person with words like that would get the better of you. Instead, you drew in a breath as you threw the last dart of your turn, hitting a triple ring in the process.

"Bradley!" you squealed. He drew you in happily as you jumped into his embrace. "Did you see?! Did you see?!"

An answer was pressed to your lips, leaving you breathless in the aftermath. Bradley hummed at your slightly dazed expression. "That's my girl."

He felt the stares of Harvard, Fanboy, and Coyote burning holes into the floral print shirt he adorned. No mind was paid to any of them, though; not until you solicited it yourself. "You must be more of Bradley's.. coworkers?"

The man of middle height held his hand out for you with a charming grin. "Lieutenant Javy Machado, or 'Coyote' if you'd rather." You were introduced to the other two, with Harvard taking some quizzical glances your way.

"I can't help but wonder, how'd you get shacked up with this fossil?" The audience around you laughed, Bradley included. He had mentioned he was a bit older than his team, giving rationale to the jest and the 'old bird' comment Phoenix made earlier. Still, something in these remarks began to itch you. You were quick to table the feeling, certain it was only your misunderstanding among old friends.

You went on to indulge them in the story of your mildly embarrassing meet-cute. A few other aviators popped in to make their introductions, Payback and Omaha namedly. It seemed that each of them, in due time, had to take their shot at ragging on Bradley's age. He brushed each one-liner off in spades, settling any greater debate with an amused chuckle rather than a defense.

The itch in you was replaced by a gnawing in your gut. You worked to suppress it as best as you could, wanting to make a perfect evening for your partner: the one who kissed you when you shot well in darts and pulled you to the piano to serenade you front and center.

But the words echoing in your ears began to shrink you in your bearings. Suddenly, you had little to say in response to any harmless question. You certainly had less to say as Harvard and Hangman were questioning why you were with Bradley "of all people". Bradley himself had gone to the bathroom, trusting you would be safe and at ease in the company of his friends. It was only upon his return that he was made to see how wrong he'd been.

Bob, the perfect wallflower, had noted the shift in your behavior. He stood by and watched as the dazzling person he was first introduced to started to lose their spark. The WSO watched as you tried to fake smiles and laugh along to the jokes cracked. None of it reached your gaze that began to dart around, as if looking for refuge. Bradley was clueless, too caught up in the moment of his worlds merging to notice one was falling back.

He returned from the bathroom and attempted to dart to your side, stopped only by Bob's light grip on his arm. "Rooster, something's up with your girl." Bradley froze. He scanned the bar, locking onto where you sat with a pair of his friends. Confusion filled him. The night had gone so well. You were getting along with everyone, even Hangman. What could possibly be wrong?

"Just trust me," Bob pleaded, practically seeing the calculations Bradley was attempting in his head. It was seeing your hands nervously fiddling together that confirmed to him Bob was right. He clapped his friend's shoulder, uttering a gracious thanks before making his way over to you.

"Mind if I cut in?" It was nothing more than a courtesy. Bradley would not let you stew in your own head a second longer. "I think we ought to be heading out soon, bunny."

Bradley outstretched his hand to you, which you gladly placed yours into. He pulled you up from the booth with ease and waved his goodbyes to the pair left at the table.

Hangman would not settle for courtesies. "Aww, come on, old man; can't you let her stay out past curfew?"

You barely had a breath to react before Bradley did with yet another chuckle. If nothing churned your stomach that night, the sound of his amusement at this running gag did. You managed your goodbyes to everyone in passing well enough as you exited the bar. The Bronco was a relieving and suffocating sight at the same time.

Silence: that was all Bradley had been given as he led you to his car. A frown fixed on his face. You were keeping a firm distance between the two of you where normally there would be none. Your fingers danced with each other in a nervous rhythm where normally they were laced with his own. Something was seriously wrong, but he hadn't the faintest idea as to what.

Bradley held the passenger door open for you, as usual, and had to hold back a gracious sigh as you let him. You would not so much as look at him since leaving his friends, but he held onto the simple gesture as a sign of hope.

He dared to lean in to catch your lips against his, only to be met by the soft skin of your cheek. Bradley stuttered backward. You had turned away from his kiss.

"Take me home, Rooster." An icy cold poured through him. You had met him in uniform, full with his "Rooster" embellishment, but had never once used the name. And he was starting to wish you never had, for the distant feeling it brought chilled him to the bone.

Bradley hopped into his seat and got the Bronco in motion toward your apartment. Maybe you needed the fresh air and the sights of the city to cool off, he thought. However, with each mile, the tension was growing thicker. He felt it in the silence walling you from him. He felt it as your quad contracted under his subconscious grip, so much that he was growing nauseous himself.

Bradley was a worrywort by default. It's why he hesitated in the air. It's why he hesitated with almost everything in his life. You had been the one piece of his existence that brought him such thoughtless bliss. Had he been too thoughtless to not notice where things were souring?

As quickly as you had raced down, you were flying up the stairs to your apartment. The thud of the passenger door slamming startled him. Bradley barely parked by the time you were halfway up the flight. He locked the doors and jogged up in the path you'd made.

His stature made it fairly easy to catch up to you. That, and the fumbling of your fingers with your key in the villainized deadbolt. You were cursing silently to yourself as you tried and failed to get the lock to turn just right. Tears began to blur your vision, making the simple task even more frustrating.

Bradley's voice was gentle, apologetic already. "Here, let me-"

"Just go home, Rooster; I don't need a fucking babysitter!"

Your response comes out sharp and cold. Your use of his callsign half an hour ago might have chilled him, but this sudden outburst froze him from the inside out. It wasn't long until you froze up yourself and realized the words you let fly.

"Whoa.. where did that come from?"

Bradley didn't receive an answer; not verbally, at least. The only response he received from you was the clutter of your keys against the ground as you tucked your chin into your chest. Soft whimpers began to shake your frame. Within seconds, your resolve gave way to desperate cries pouring from your throat. Bradley's heart cracked.

He moved into action, tucking you into his broad chest and letting you lean your weight into him. Light shushes and repetitions of "It's alright" rushed to console you. Bradley held you upright with one arm as he bent over to swipe your keys into his grasp.

"Come on; let's get inside, yeah?" he cooed as he stood back up. You said nothing and continued to cry into his white tank. Mascara stains were sure to form, but he couldn't care less.

Bradley got your door unlocked in a single try. He propped you safely against the wall as he locked the entry behind himself. You felt like you were floating with his help to get to the couch. There was no resistance or fight in you; only fear.

His hands were on your knees, rubbing soothing circles against the bare skin your jeans exposed. Bradley knelt down in front of you. He waited for you, any tell that you were ready to talk, as long as you needed.

You gathered a hiccuped breath as your sobs faded to sniffles. Your trembling hands reached for him, feeling the warmth of his grasp almost instantly. Bradley gingerly kissed your knuckles on each hand. "Talk to me, bunny." Head lifting, you finally met his worried stare. "What's going on?"

It was a simple question that had a simple answer. Yet, as you tried to form the words, you felt a rush of embarrassment. How ridiculous was it to get so worked up over some lighthearted fun? There was no reason for you to have this sick feeling in your stomach over it.

"Hey," Bradley called, moving a hand up to hold your cheek. His thumb swept at the tears still pouring from your lash line. You hadn't noticed your line of sight drifting away from him with your train of thought. As you found his face again, you saw greater desperation. He ached to know, to help. "Talk to me. Please."

And you did. Grabbing onto his hand with both of yours, you released a heavy sigh. "Tonight was great. Everyone was so nice and welcoming. They all seem like really good people, a-and I'm glad you have them in your life to support you."

Bradley managed a sad smile. Even through your own pains, you were searching for the best to make of the situation for him. He squeezed your hands holding his to comfort you in letting the other shoe drop.

"But.. I-I know you're older than them. I'm sure that, that they make those jokes around you a lot, and did way before you met me. It just.." You stopped yourself, shaking your head as if to shake the thought away. "It's probably so stupid-"

"It's not stupid if it's got you this upset."

Oh, Bradley. The only man you'd ever encountered who genuinely yearned to empathize with you at every struggle or hardship. The person who encouraged you to feel things through in a healthy manner instead of immediately pointing blame at yourself for feeling it at all. No person at any age topped the level of emotional care and safety he provided you.

Your words started to flood out, mixing together in disarray. Yet, Bradley listened intently to every fragmented sentence you gave. "I care about you. So much, B; so much it's scary sometimes. And I don't ever think of the years between us because it's all meaningless, you know? The way I feel for you, and how I think you feel for me. We each have our shit sorted, there's no weird power dynamic bullshit going on."

He restrained a laugh at your frank vocabulary. It was one of the things he admired most about you. When your feelings spilled out, there was never a filter. You expressed yourself entirely authentically. That's why your earlier silence frightened him into his own.

That was not to say your troubles were easy for him to hear, because they weren't. Who wanted to hear that the person they loved ever doubted as such?

"All those jokes… I don't want your friends to not take me seriously. That I'm with you for any reason other than you make my life so much better just by being in it, and I hope to god I can do the same for you. I don't need you to take care of me, be my 'sugar daddy' or anything like that. And-" You pursed your lips as another sob caught in your throat.

Bradley leaned in to kiss your forehead, so tenderly it sent chills down your spine. Your lips parted to release that choked cry. "I-I was scared when you just.. just laughed with them, that, that you didn't take me seriously e-either."

The words were a knife in his chest. "Oh, baby, no," he nearly gasped. "No, no; I never have thought like that, bunny."

You began to cry once more; out of the feelings you'd held that evening, out of the faint insecurity you'd held the months you'd spent together, and out of relief to hear him reassure you. The mix of emotions was blowing you over.

"Can I come up there, baby? Can I hold you?" Your answer was in the frantic way you pulled at his hands. Bradley fell into your ragged loveseat in an instant, tugging you into his lap as you wept. He rubbed up and down your back and pressed kisses into your hair to soothe you.

His voice was warped with his own emotion when he spoke next. "I'm so sorry I ever made you doubt how I feel about you. You are worth so much more than your age." He cupped your cheek again to meet your watery gaze with his own.

"You're incredible. The way you navigate life so carefree and full of light, and how you pass that feeling onto everyone you meet. How you care about everyone you meet and effortlessly brighten their day. How you care about me so much that you're this worried that I don't know it."

Your tears rolled freely onto the skin of his fingers, your body jolting with hiccups. And Bradley thought you were every bit as beautiful as you'd ever been.

"But I do. And I will treasure that, I will treasure you, every day of my life." Your responding smile was the most welcome sight. It cleared up the dark clouds that were looming overhead to shine brightly on whatever was to come. As usual.

a/n: this was very VERY loosely proofread but i am open to feedback and suggestions! thank you all for reading <3

tags: @roosterforme, @avengersfan25

Tags :

bradley bradshaw fanfiction bradley bradshaw imagine bradley bradshaw x reader bradley rooster bradshaw bradley bradshaw rooster imagine rooster x reader rooster fanfic rooster top gun bradley bradshaw fic top gun fanfiction top gun x reader top gun rooster

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inmyloveworld

1 year ago

because i'm trying to clear my wip's before i start on the bob idea..

another self-indulgent angsty bradley fic coming tomorrow?

Tags :

bradley bradshaw fanfiction bradley bradshaw imagine rooster bradshaw bradley bradshaw bradley bradshaw x reader bradley rooster bradshaw top gun rooster top gun x reader rooster top gun top gun fanfiction top gun maverick

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inmyloveworld

1 year ago

in a world of boys (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)

word count: ~1.5k

synposis: dating was hard. tiptoeing the line between casual and official always had you stumbling. and bradley, in spite of how good he made you feel, was no exception.

warnings: insecurity, allusions to anxiety (spiraling thoughts, disassociating, just a LOT of self-doubt and questioning)

a/n: i have cute fluff ideas i swear! but writing from experience always just gets the words flowing. here's to hoping we all find someone as emotionally mature and empathetic as bradley bradshaw.

bonus note: i looped slut by taylor swift writing a majority of this oops

In A World Of Boys (bradley "rooster" Bradshaw X Reader)

The words had always come easy to you. Every conversation was effortless, no matter what the context. Quips and jokes flowed through you as the blood flowed through your veins. It never took careful thought or pondering. But pondering was consuming you as your fingers hovered over the letters at the bottom of your screen.

Bradley and you had been seeing each other for nearly two months. Late-night rides in his Bronco and one overnight at your apartment had filled the weeks since you had first bumped into him at the Hard Deck. His charm and humor lit up your days. His heart and warmth soothed you in moments of weakness. And for once, you had opened yourself to all of it; to all of him.

There was no limit to the dishonesty and complacency you'd been shown in your prior dating history. Bradley was neither of these things, as far as you were aware. Yet, the lack of clarity for what he felt was beginning to plant a sick feeling in your gut.

Things were going so well. Never had you felt more assured in someone's affection and interest in you. Never had you felt more cared for and adored. You loathed yourself to think of gambling that for the sake of your security.

Me: Hey.. not to ruin the mood, but I was just wo

Pathetic. Delete.

Me: Is this just a sex thing?

Abrasive. Delete.

You groaned to yourself in frustration. Judging by your history, this would only end one way. Still, you weren't sure how much longer you could bear the fluttering in your chest under the guise of nonchalance.

Me: I really like what's between us right now. But can I ask where you think this is going?

Here we go.

You hit the 'send' arrow before you could think through it for another second. God, why did this have to be so complicated? Were you the source of all the complications, with your need for control to figure out how everything had to go? Was this the reason no one would commit to you in the past? Or was the dating world simply reduced to nothing but souls too fearful to stick it out, for what could be lying ahead of them? Were you settling? Were you making him settle?

Two buzzes of your phone jolted you in your seat.

Flyboy: I think it'd be better to talk about this in person. You up for a drive?

Oh god.

You sent back an answer and ran your hands through your hair. Tears started to prick at your eyes already as a familiar sinking feeling settled in. Quickly, you were trying to soothe yourself with the small comforts of the situation.

His car always felt musty anyway.

You won't have to worry about accidental pregnancy!

It's face-to-face, at least. Maybe you'll get proper closure for once.

A dozen other weightless sentiments were stacked in your head by the time you heard the purr of a familiar engine outside. You drew in a deep breath, collected yourself as much as possible, and swiped up your keys.

Flyboy: Here!

You didn't even open the text thread, opting to keep your head bowed as you locked your front door. Goosebumps rose along your skin as it met the night air. With much effort, you inhaled deeply. Your feet were leaden as you trudged toward the Bronco.

All the darkness swirling in your head gave way to that bright smile Bradley held just for you. Something in your chest twisted sharply at the show of affection. Every moment of this adoration passing was the last, you reminded yourself. This drive would loop you right back to the somber state you were in before the greatest man you'd ever known walked into your life.

"Hey there, angel," he greeted. The rasp in his voice warmed you the same way a glass of whiskey would. Steadily, slowly, and then all at once.

"Hi," you called back as you hopped in the passenger side. You kept your gaze ahead, hands beginning a nervous pattern of threading fingers. Bradley raised a brow at the action but didn't call further attention to it. His eyes hooked to the road as he pulled the pair of you off into the night.

There was almost an ache in the absence of his hand on your thigh. Both of the worthy appendages anchored themselves to the wheel, no yield in their grip.

Safe driving; he's just practicing safe driving. It's a late night, dark even with the street lamps, and the Bronco's headlights didn't match the brightness of modern LEDs.

But perhaps it's the first thing to go. Bradley needed to take the first baby step away from this.. whatever it was. And he was having you take it with him.

Was there something you did? Maybe the night you spent together had been too soon. Or maybe you had been too forthcoming in your own intent, without clarity on his own.

You never let things simmer. You always had to know, that eternal impatience winning out against the chance of a simple slow burn. But maybe this wasn't meant to take that direction; maybe that's not what Bradley wanted.

Would anyone ever want that? Was it just that they didn't want it with you? What was so wrong with you? Were you so horribly broken to everyone else that no relationship could ever be fulfilled? What were you not seeing in yourself?

"Hey, earth to angel." An empty parking lot surrounded you. The sounds of crashing waves and the warm autumn breeze replaced the storm of neverending thoughts ringing in your ears. Bradley had his hand on your arm, the first touch he'd granted you the whole evening, the touch that broke your trance. His brows were furrowed again in concern as he scanned your sorrow-filled face. Not wanting to startle you further, he kept his voice soft. "Talk to me. What's going on in there?"

You took a moment to compose yourself. Your eyes shut as you drew in another deep breath, letting it out with a drop of your shoulders. And then, you told him.

Each one of your fears and anxieties, a summation of how your heart and body were carelessly juggled in the past, how you found yourself at fault in every instance. How even in that moment, when everything seemed to be right with him, something had clearly gone wrong out of your view and it was all about to crash. But it wasn't on him, you insisted. It was on you.

The waves and breeze continued to sound long after your voice faded from the air. Tears pricked at your eyes slowly in sullen acceptance. You had nailed your own coffin shut with this whole conversation. You should have stayed silent. Being lost on your path was better than taking an exit, wasn't it?

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Look at me." Bradley was an emotional man, you had come to learn. He wore his heart out on his sleeve the moment he felt safe enough. So, the absence of emotion from his voice churned your stomach worse than anything else. You met his eyes sheepishly, preparing for a more brutal "break-up" than you originally anticipated.

He sighed, the hand on your arm shifting up to cup your cheek. The touch warmed you and drew the tears from your eyes at once. Droplets rolled down your cheeks in single strands, yet you could not bother yourself with embarrassment. This would be the last he would see of you.

Bradley chuckled. "I did this all wrong, didn't I?"

What was there to laugh about? Had he meant to be more direct in his lack of intent, or in ending things-

"My mom's yelling at me from up there, I know it."

What?

Bewildered was the perfect word for your changed expression. And Bradley now knew better than to let you sit on coded messages.

He took your hands into his, rubbing soft circles along your knuckles as he told you, "I'm serious about this, angel. About us, you. I have been from the get-go."

A flurry of feelings coursed through you. Shock and relief mixed with the confusion still lingering behind in the wake of this confession. It was as if you didn't believe what you were hearing, because part of you really didn't. The part of you that had doubted a silver lining to your history of heartbreak was incapable of believing in a resolution.

You didn't know how to accept it or respond. Excitement was chomping at the bit to break your otherwise unsettled demeanor, but fear still held a tight grip on the reins. "Are.. are you sure?"

Bradley could've laughed again, the question ridiculous in his mind. Being with you was as clear as day to him. The ways in which you eased his soul, sparked life back up amidst his dreary routines, and made him picture a future ahead was something he knew he could not be without. He now realized his failure in communicating as such to the person needing to hear it most.

So he held back the laugh and held your hands instead. "I've never been more sure of anything than I am of you."

tags: @avengersfan25

Tags :

bradley bradshaw imagine rooster bradshaw bradley rooster bradshaw bradley bradshaw bradley bradshaw x reader rooster fanfic rooster top gun top gun x reader top gun rooster top gun fanfiction top gun maverick bradley bradshaw fanfiction

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inmyloveworld

1 year ago

incredibly bradley coded! this was written very much from my own experience, reworked to end favorably, but the racing thoughts were something i always wanted to include. it’s really easy to get lost on that train when you aren’t getting the proper reassurance to stop you in your tracks. but bradley recognized he had faltered in it and immediately corrected himself 🥺

in a world of boys (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)

word count: ~1.5k

synposis: dating was hard. tiptoeing the line between casual and official always had you stumbling. and bradley, in spite of how good he made you feel, was no exception.

warnings: insecurity, allusions to anxiety (spiraling thoughts, disassociating, just a LOT of self-doubt and questioning)

a/n: i have cute fluff ideas i swear! but writing from experience always just gets the words flowing. here's to hoping we all find someone as emotionally mature and empathetic as bradley bradshaw.

bonus note: i looped slut by taylor swift writing a majority of this oops

Me: Hey.. not to ruin the mood, but I was just wo

Pathetic. Delete.

Me: Is this just a sex thing?

Abrasive. Delete.

Me: I really like what's between us right now. But can I ask where you think this is going?

Here we go.

Two buzzes of your phone jolted you in your seat.

Flyboy: I think it'd be better to talk about this in person. You up for a drive?

Oh god.

His car always felt musty anyway.

You won't have to worry about accidental pregnancy!

It's face-to-face, at least. Maybe you'll get proper closure for once.

Flyboy: Here!

"Hey there, angel," he greeted. The rasp in his voice warmed you the same way a glass of whiskey would. Steadily, slowly, and then all at once.

There was almost an ache in the absence of his hand on your thigh. Both of the worthy appendages anchored themselves to the wheel, no yield in their grip.

Safe driving; he's just practicing safe driving. It's a late night, dark even with the street lamps, and the Bronco's headlights didn't match the brightness of modern LEDs.

But perhaps it's the first thing to go. Bradley needed to take the first baby step away from this.. whatever it was. And he was having you take it with him.

Was there something you did? Maybe the night you spent together had been too soon. Or maybe you had been too forthcoming in your own intent, without clarity on his own. You never let things simmer. You always had to know, that eternal impatience winning out against the chance of a simple slow burn. But maybe this wasn't meant to take that direction; maybe that's not what Bradley wanted.

You took a moment to compose yourself. Your eyes shut as you drew in another deep breath, letting it out with a drop of your shoulders. And then, you told him.

"I'm sorry, I-"

Bradley chuckled. "I did this all wrong, didn't I?"

What was there to laugh about? Had he meant to be more direct in his lack of intent, or in ending things-

"My mom's yelling at me from up there, I know it."

What?

Bewildered was the perfect word for your changed expression. And Bradley now knew better than to let you sit on coded messages.

He took your hands into his, rubbing soft circles along your knuckles as he told you, "I'm serious about this, angel. About us, you. I have been from the get-go."

A flurry of feelings coursed through you. Shock and relief mixed with the confusion still lingering behind in the wake of this confession. It was as if you didn't believe what you were hearing, because part of you really didn't. The part of you that had doubted there was any silver lining to your history of heartbreak was incapable of believing in a final chapter.

You didn't know how to accept it or respond. Excitement was chomping at the bit to break your otherwise unsettled demeanor, but fear held a tight grip on the reins. "Are.. are you sure?"

Bradley could've laughed again, the question ridiculous in his mind. Being with you was as clear as day to him. The ways in which you soothed his soul, sparked life back up amidst his dreary routines, and made him picture a future ahead was something he knew he could not be without. But he now realized his failure in communicating as such to the person who needed to hear it most.

So he held back the laugh and held your hands instead. "I've never been more sure of anything than I am of you."

tags: @avengersfan25

Tags :

bradley fic bradley bradshaw imagine rooster bradshaw bradley rooster bradshaw bradley bradshaw bradley bradshaw x reader rooster fanfic rooster top gun top gun x reader top gun rooster

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lovesleclercs

2 years ago

If I Didn't Love You || Hangman [1]

✧ a/n: i'm reposting this again, because i didn't like it being with an OFC. i like to make you guys feel as included as i can, so i changed it back to a Jake x Female!Reader 💗.

✧ summary: A Texas boy and a Georgia girl fall in love. They believe they have what it takes to prove stereotypes wrong, that they can survive any trial that comes their way. Jake Seresin sees you as his soulmate, his better half, the only woman capable of getting him to settle down. But when a Naval deployment separates the two for a long time, you believe your pilot is coming home to you. But he doesn’t. With no answer except that it wasn’t you, it was him; Jake leaves you devastated and heartbroken. But when he’s shipped to Fighterntown USA to partake in TOP GUN for an upcoming mission, he stumbles across you again after not laying eyes on you for more than four years. What happens when those feelings come rushing back to Jake, but you want nothing to do with him?

pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female!Reader

✧ Hangman masterlist

A FEW SUMMERS AGO…

Luke Bryan’s Play It Again resounds from the speakers of Jake Seresin’s Ford F-150 pickup, a cowboy hat nestled atop his head, a pretty girl on his arm. Your cowboy boots drill into the gravel, kicking up dust as he twirls his forever girl in circles.

The moon hangs low, the stars peeking out to send kisses of illuminated light by the billions. Jake promised to give you the most beautiful night imaginable, and he had done that.

“Mr. Seresin, how did this Georgia girl get so lucky to fall for a Texas fella like you?” You ask through the curtain of your locks, bright eyes shining brighter than any sea Jake had ever seen.

Stifling a laugh, the scent of summer wafts through the air. He can feel you slipping your fingertips through his belt loops to draw him closer. You were in your professional life when your mother had a bone to pick with you. But at this moment, you were his girl in the cowboy’s arms.

His green orbs simmered upon you, the young woman who had just turned 24. It was no secret that Jake was an aspiring naval pilot with a cocky exterior, one that you overlooked. Why? Because when he was with you, he didn’t show that side of him. He was a hopeless romantic with a soft side that no one knew existed.

“I ask myself that same question every day, darling,” Jake whispers. The music picks up, and he moves to twirl you into a perfect circle. You reach up to swipe the cowboy hat from his head. Before the young airman has the time to protest the action, his heart swims with adoration when you set it atop your hair, tied back with a bandana. You looked ready to rally an entire ranch with that outfit.

You wore faded blue jeans that cupped your assets well, a black camisole with a buffalo plaid shirt tied in the front. Your rhinestone-encrusted cowboy boots donned your feet, and Jake swore you were ready for a rodeo. You could wrangle that cowboy any summer day, no questions asked. His mama told him never to let go and that he had stumbled upon one of the good ones.

“Promise me that this is forever, Jake,” You say quietly, your hands ghosting across his forearms. Jake looks down at you, your shorter height difference perfecting his taller stature. He would have this little cowgirl in the air in one swift motion.

“Baby,” Jake pulls his hand around. He cups your soft cheek, dusted with a light pink blush that smelled like roses. You tilt your head back to stare at him, wearing the fondest of smiles. Your eyes sparkled with adoration for your beau. When you landed Jake Seresin, the sweet Texas boy who loved his mama and family, the boy who had dreams of chasing the air as a fighter pilot, you were hooked. He had you curled around his finger, and you knew that whatever happened, they would venture through the fires together. “I love you more than my life itself.”

Those were words that Jake hardly thought he would speak to a woman. He had so many flings when he was younger that the words ceased to exist in his vocabulary. Mama always told sweet Jake that his princess was somewhere; maybe you needed to be saved from the tower. But as soon as mama met you, the older woman knew. Oh, Mrs. Seresin knew.

His pretty princess wasn’t a damsel in distress. You were a hardworking woman who fought for your place in this world. You were a woman of dignity and respect who would help in the kitchen during Sunday dinners but be ready to help his daddy round up cattle. You weren’t afraid to get dirty; you dreamed of a white picket fence surrounding a wrap-around porch, a couple of babies who shared Jake’s pretty green eyes and brown hair, and hopefully a sweet southern accent.

“Jake,” You say his name as a breathless prayer.

Jake smiles, moving to lean down. He wraps his arms around his favorite girl, quickly hoisting you in the air. You squeal with delight as he sets you on the hood of that F-150, your legs tangling around his waist.

You drape your hands across his shoulders, your mouth moving to find his. The sound of creatures making their music fills their ears while they become enamored with one another. Jake brings you as close as he can, biting your lip playfully while you giggle excitedly.

Blue eyes clash with green when they pull away, both becoming enchanted.

“I promise you, sweetheart. You’re my girl.” Jake tells you.

You smile.

“You better hold that promise dear to your heart, Cowboy,” You tip the edge of his hat forward on your head.

Jake’s eyes only grow brighter as he picks the girl up. He swings you in circles, the stereo beginning to play Keith Urban as he kisses you fervently.

But what made Jake Seresin break that promise?

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Tags :

jake seresin hangman x reader jake seresin x reader top gun x reader

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lovesleclercs

2 years ago

Cruel Summer

summary - Jake Seresin has been a thorn in your side since your freshman year of college when he took it upon himself to, very publicly, confess his love for you for reasons you still don’t know. When forced to spend the summer with him, you begin to realize that maybe your assumptions about Jake were wrong. Or maybe they were entirely correct.

warnings - language, fluff, angst, chapter specific

last update - on hiatus

when life gives you oranges

stranded with your mortal enemy and other exaggerations

taglist | playlist

Tags :

jake seresin imagines jake seresin x reader hangman x reader top gun top gun x reader

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lovesleclercs

2 years ago

I’m obsessedddd

Double Tap

Summary: You were hesitant when your friends told you about their other friend who needed a roommate. Living with a man, let alone a Naval aviator, isn't your ideal living situation. However, you are desperate to get out of your current house. So, you will have to suck it up and make a deal with Jake "Hangman" Seresin. Now you just wish he would stop doing things that make you fall in love with him.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman Seresin x Fem! Civilian! Reader, minor Javy "Coyote" Machado x OC

Word count: 19k

AO3 LINK

Warnings: Abuse (Implied and mentioned), confrontation with Abuser, Child abuse (mentioned), Slow burn, Implied calorie counting, routines and compulsions, Jigsaw puzzles, taxes, Neurodivergent coded! Hangman, Fiscally responsible!Hangman, Protective!Hangman. Please let me know if I missed any for this part, I know it is a long one.

Authors Note: This got so completely out of hand. It started as one scene and then grew a mind of its own. Part two is written, just not edited, I'm planning on having that done later this week. Hangman Coyote BFF supremacy. I apologize for writing the most hyper-specific!Jake you have probably ever read. 85% of his personality is just things I find attractive in men.

Thank you so much if you take a chance to read this work. I hope you enjoy it. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

You had been at your friend Marlee's house for almost an hour before she couldn't stop herself from confronting you. She had at least let you get settled and offered you a drink while pretending to be distracted by the lasagna she was making. She had spun towards you expectantly when it was in the oven, having reached her limit on waiting.

"What happened?" Marlee asks.

"It's nothing." You respond.

"It is something. I don't want to reread your texts back to you, babes."

"Marls," you sigh, briefly closing your eyes, trying to fight the exhaustion you feel.

"You can't live there anymore. We need to get you out."

"Yeah, let me just move and find a place to live. It's not that easy, Marlee."

She sighs heavily. "I know, babes, but at least stay here with Javy and me. If he touches you like that again."

"It was just a one-time thing," you quickly cut her off. But, from the pitying look in her eyes, she knows it hasn't been just this one time.

"If something happened."

"Nothing is going to happen." Marlee was too bright and too good of a friend. She knew something had already happened, and she knew things had been happening. Her frown and eyebrow raise say it all.

"I can't just crash here," you say.

"You are always, always welcome."

"You are," a voice pops up, and you both look over to the couch. You thought Marlee's husband, Javy, was thoroughly invested in the game he was playing on his Xbox, but it turns out he had an ear on your conversation.

It wasn't something that bothered you. You loved Javy, he had been an excellent partner to Marlee, and you considered him a friend. He was fun and easygoing, something you hadn't expected from a Navy man. You also weren't bothered because everyone knew they were the type of couple that told each other absolutely everything. So, Javy would have found out one way or another.

"I know that. Thanks, you two." You tell them, trying to get them off your back.

"Marlee is right. We can't have anything happening to you."

"Nothing is going to happen to me, Javy," you say, now trying to reassure them and stop this unnecessary worrying.

"You know. I have a friend who has actually been looking for a roommate." Javy says.

"You do?" you ask, surprised you hadn't heard about this sooner.

"Yeah, I mean, he can be a lot. But he is a good guy and a great roommate."

"Who ?" Marlee cuts in.

"Jake."

"Hangman?"

"Yeah, Hangman." The two of them stare at each other, and you can see that they are having one of those conversations of glances and small expressions you weren't entirely privy to understanding.

Marlee then shrugs, nodding, and looks back at you, "It would be a nice safe place."

"I mean, it's an option and would be a nicer place to stay than anything else you'll find. Plus, someone who is not a total stranger as a roommate." Javy tells you. He pulls off his headset and makes his way to the kitchen. He sets his hand on your shoulder and gives you a kind smile.

"I'm not sure about living with a man."

"If you don't want to live with Jake or you aren't interested, we will find somewhere else. Or you stay here with us, but you can't stay there anymore." The seriousness behind Javy's smile isn't lost on you. So you start to slowly nod.

"I guess I could at least chat with your friend if y'all think it's a decent option."

"Yeah, for sure," Javy said with a grin. "I'll ask him about it, then maybe y'all can meet this weekend. We are still having a big bonfire on the beach. I'm sure he will be there."

"Oh, I wasn't planning on going to the bonfire." You start to say, which makes both Javy and Marlee frown.

"Why aren't you coming to the bonfire?"

You tried to think of a valid excuse beyond that being in open public spaces was terrifying to you right now. An excuse past the fact that you knew your bruises wouldn't be gone by Saturday.

"I've just been stressed about finding a place to live, you know." You gave them both a weak smile, but neither of your friends seemed appeased.

"Well, now you have a reason to come," Marlee says.

"Yeah, exactly, and I'll talk to Jake." Javy presses a kiss to your forehead and then a lingering one to Marlee's lips. He returns to the couch, but not before looking at you seriously. "You know if you ever need anything, you call us?"

"Sir, yes sir," you tell him with a laugh, making Marlee giggle too.

Even with Javy's reassurances, you are unsure about this whole idea. However, whoever this friend Jake is, you know he had to be better than your current living situation. After dinner, Marlee and Javy both reiterate their feelings on the whole issue before you leave their house. You did your best to wave them off and tell them you would see them in a few days.

When Saturday rolls around, you head to the pin Marlee sent you for the bonfire. You are thankful it is a cooler day and will only be colder once the sun sets. It allows you to not look so out of place in your conservative clothes, ensuring all your bruises are covered.

You arrive purposefully late and park far from the beach. By the time you make it to the group of people, you have sufficiently hyped yourself up to interact with the others. You decide to ease yourself into the party. You walk around the different coolers, opening them and investigating the available drink options.

You are in the middle of shuffling through one when you hear a voice behind you.

"Anything specific I can help you find, sweetheart?" You turn around and are met with one of the most attractive men you have ever met. He is tall, with dirty blonde hair and a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose.

"I'm just browsing," You tell the man with a shrug, proud of yourself for being able to put together a sentence.

"I think I know what would be perfect for you, sweetheart.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah," He says, flashing you a grin. His smile makes something in your stomach swoop a tiny bit.

"And, what would that be?" you say, raising an eyebrow.

"Me, of course."

You can't help the shocked laugh that falls out of your throat. Which just makes his handsome smile widen.

"I was thinking something a bit stronger, actually."

"I know I look like a tall glass of water but let me tell you, I won't disappoint you."

"Well, looks certainly can be deceptive."

"That's true. Are you really as sweet as you look?"

Before you can answer, you hear Javy's voice to your right. "Oh good, you two already met."

You turn your head to see Javy jogging over. He stops next to you with a smile on his face. You process his words and feel your stomach drop. The incredibly handsome man you were trying to flirt with was Javy's friend. Javy's friend he thought you could live with.

"There haven't been any formal introductions," you say.

"Jake Seresin," he says. He sticks out his hand, waiting for you to shake it. You take his hand, give it a firm shake, and share your name. He repeated it softly, giving your hand an extra squeeze before letting go.

"Javy said you are looking to move," Jake says casually. Your voice seems stuck in your throat. You examine Jake's handsome face again and know you can't do this.

"Yeah, she is. Soon, too." Javy says after you haven't said anything leaving an awkward pause.

"I have lots of space."

"Oh well, you know." You say, trying to figure out what to say by saying nothing at all. Jake nods along with you, but his eyebrows pull close together while his eyes narrow.

"Plus, Jake is really clean," Javy adds.

"That is good to know. Maybe Jake and I can talk about it later?" You say, giving both of them a smile. You turn back to the coolers and grab the first drink you see.

"Yeah, we can talk about it later. Javy owes me a spike ball game anyways," Jake says. He flashes you another smile while grabbing a High Noon out of the cooler, gesturing for Javy to do the same. You leave them to find Marlee and chat with some other people at the party.

You are considering how to best say goodbye and leave the party while sitting next to the fire later. You stare into the flames hoping they might provide you answers.

"You would actually be doing me a huge favor by moving in, "Jake says to you casually. You are startled by his sudden presence, and you look over at him, quirking an eyebrow in response.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. I haven't had a roommate for a while, and I would prefer someone who isn't in the military. I don't want to bring work and ranks home. You know?"

"Oh yeah, sure, that makes sense," you say, following his line of logic.

"Also, rent these days is," Jake doesn't finish the sentence, instead just whistling quietly.

"Yeah, rent is expensive," you laugh. You find it much easier to talk to Jake if you don't have to look directly out at him.

"You don't have to let me know right now, but I don't have any issues with it."

"We haven't talked about it much," you tell him, surprised he had decided so quickly.

"There is this saying that beggars can't be choosers."

"I would want a roommate contract. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that would be fine by me, Sugar."

"Okay, cool, but we should think about it."

"Tonight is a party, and we are supposed to be having fun. Not doing business. So, why don't you text me, and we will hash out the details this week. Plus you can see the place, which you would probably want. Maybe you could move in next weekend if we can work it all out?"

Part of you thought you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, so you decided to text Jake throughout the week to hash out the details. And the next thing you know, Javy, Marlee, and Jake are helping you move your stuff.

Living with Jake wasn't as hard as you worried it would be. In fact, it was much easier than you were anticipating. Jake led his life with strict regiment and routine. It was something that stretched beyond that he was in the military.

Jake would wake up in the mornings and go on a run before coming home, making breakfast, showering, and going to work. Then he would come home, change and go to the gym, come home, shower again because he needed to, and then eat dinner. Every night if you were home while he was cooking, Jake would always offer you some. That leads you to find out he is a phenomenal chef.

Then Jake would read in the large armchair in the living room and half-watch whatever you put on the TV to watch yourself. He only requested to use the TV when one of his sports teams was playing or on Wednesday nights, where he would spend an hour and a half playing Animal Crossing with his niece while they facetime.

You had told Jake that the TV was his, and he didn't have to ask you to use it. Jake just laughed and shrugged before telling you he wasn't the biggest TV guy. Jake had been telling the truth when he said that. You realized that Jake was more interested in his books. If he wasn't reading a book, he sat silently with one of his sudoku puzzles and country music playing on vinyl. Then Jake would go to bed after whatever chores he deemed he should do.

It was a strictly followed pattern, only differing on Fridays when he would sometimes go out to a bar with the guys or sometimes Saturdays. However, even on the weekends, he would follow the schedule closely. Regardless if he had gone to the bar, he would still wake up outrageously early in the morning, work out, do chores, and then go to the gym again. Sometimes Jake would venture out of the house to see his friends, but more often than not, he was reading or in the workshop in the garage with some project.

Marlee had not prepared you for how amazingly hot Jake was. When you moved in, he had been very polite, if a bit curt. Never venturing to flirt with you again like when you first met. As the weeks living with Jake passed, though, he definitely warmed up to you. But still never pushed the roommate line between you.

You worked hard to push your attraction for Jake to the side or shove it into a safe in the back of your mind. That was a challenging task to accomplish because, just like Javy said, Jake was very clean. It wasn't that he was a clean freak per se, but he was definitely an orderly and well-kept person. Everything in the house had a place it belonged.

Jake always did his dishes and tidied up after himself in your common areas. He also never leaves any of his laundry waiting around. You had watched in a mix of awe and horror the first time he pulled out clothes from the dryer within five minutes of the machine going off. Then Jake started folding, halfway through the laundry, stoping to pull out an iron and ironing board.

The sight was all so attractive that you had to excuse yourself upstairs. That was something that you often had to do. Anytime you felt heat build in you towards your roommate, you would quickly excuse yourself. You knew giving into your attraction for Jake in any shape or form would not lead anywhere good. You needed a place to live, and this place you had with Jake was way too good to risk anything.

Given his career choice, it was not entirely surprising how regimented Jake is. However, what did surprise you was when he started to incorporate you into his routines in small ways. Jake would automatically set out an extra plate for you when cooking, and picks up snacks you like from the store. One day you come home and find a second shoe rack by the door just for you. On the days you had to be up for work, you would find that Jake had already put your morning drink together for you when he returned from the gym and was making his own breakfast. You like the steady rhythm and consistency that living with Hangman provides you. It's seamless and easy to fall into step with him.

You had been living with Jake for a few months, and things were going really well, almost too well you sometimes felt like it was too good to be true. Your nightmares weren't as frequent. You get full nights sleep and feel comfortable here with Jake. The only times you don't feel content are the times that you think about how hot Jake is. Or when Jake does something that makes it hard not to try and smash your lips against his in a heated, passionate kiss.

Then one day, you get home from work, and worry suddenly sweeps over you as you glance at your phone and realize what time it is. The house is completely dark and quiet. Jake should have been home several hours ago and on his way to the gym already. In fact, right about now was when he should have been getting home from the gym.

You resist the urge to call Jake and check that he is okay. You know that action would be overstepping the roommate boundaries that exist clearly between you. You tell yourself it's silly to worry all because he wasn't following the schedule you made up for him in your head. It's not like Jake had ever written down his routine and given it to you. Maybe today was a special anniversary, or maybe he had after-work plans you didn't know about.

Your worry is eased about twenty minutes later when you hear Jake's truck pull into the driveway, followed by the garage door rumbling open. You find yourself easing further into the couch, some of the tension you weren't wholly conscious of easing out of your body.

Jake comes in, and you cut your eyes over to see him still in his flight suit. He doesn't say anything to you as he unlaces and kicks off his shoes. He passes you while walking to the stairs and manages a short but gruff hello. Then, without another word, he is gone. You stare after his back in shock. Something is definitely not right with Jake.

He left his shoes sprawled on the ground by the door. It was not a sight you had ever seen in the house, not even the times Jake had stumbled home drunk and giggly. Jake always pulled off his boots, neatly tucking the laces in and then setting them up on his small shoe rack by the door.

You get up from the couch and walk over to fix his shoes, tucking in the laces. You tell yourself it is so no one will trip over them, not for any other reason. Then you hear Jake's shower turn on, and the water runs much longer than the twenty-minute showers you are used to him taking. It all feels so odd and out of place. You decide to make some pasta for dinner, convinced Jake is planning on not eating at all with how far he is off his schedule.

You are just finishing dinner when the water in his bathroom finally shuts off. Then fifteen more minutes later, Jake comes downstairs in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a thread-bare Annapolis shirt. He appears to be looking around downstairs, almost a bit dazed and lost.

"I made dinner. How about you have some?" You call out to him from the kitchen. Jake follows your voice to the kitchen and looks at the food you have made and dishes up. Hesitantly he sits down at the table.

"If you don't mind."

"Of course not. I know this may shock you since you normally cook, but I can do it too."

"I've never thought that you couldn't cook." Jake quickly responds.

"I know, Jake. I'm just teasing you. Now eat up."

Jake follows orders and takes a bite of the pasta, letting out a small groan. "So good," he mumbles before taking another bite.

"Do you want the macros?" You ask him conversationally after eating in silence for a few minutes.

"Oh. No, thank you. I appreciate you making something and sharing. No need for you to put in extra work. I will be fine not tracking my macros for one meal," Jake says.

"Okay," you say and give him the kindest smile you can think of. You don't want to push him on why he isn't okay. However, you can't stop yourself from sliding the piece of paper you wrote the macros on across the table to him anyways.

Jake stares at the note card for a long moment and then looks up at you. It's not a look you have ever seen on your roommate's face before. You aren't entirely sure how to decipher the way his green sea-glass eyes are gleaming back at you. He folds the paper once before putting it in his pocket.

Jake clears his throat, and the edges of his lips quirk up. "Thank you."

"Of course, anytime, Jake," you say back. He puts away his plate a few minutes later after finishing his food. Then packs up the leftovers into some tupperware.

"I'm going to bed," Jake tells you. Jake doesn't even stop to grab the current book he is in the middle of from where it is placed next to his chair in the living room.

The moment Jake disappears up the stairs, you are frowning again, considering his behavior. It bugged you, something clearly was off, but you weren't in the position to ask him what it was. As you start to settle down for the evening, you notice that Jake had put it in the laundry basket next to the washer that morning. Seeing that you knew he originally had every intention of starting it before going to the gym that night something that never happened.

You briefly considered that maybe it isn't normal how you have memorized his routine, but also maybe that was just part of living with Jake. You didn't even think before you were throwing his laundry in the washer for him. You stay up to put the clothes in the dryer. Then you find yourself folding items and hanging some of them, not confident that you could iron them correctly. About halfway through the chore, you stop realizing just what you are doing but finish it out, imagining the look on Jake's face when he sees his laundry done. You are in too deep to back out at this point.

🏡🧩🏡

You knew it wasn't the best idea that morning when you had left to go pick up some of your remaining stuff and random mail from where you used to live. However, you didn't expect it to go as badly as it had. You were still shaking from the interaction you had when you got home. Every moment of the interaction repeats over and over in your head. You hazardously throw your keys into your little key bowl, not caring to notice Jake's there as well.

You were still trying to take calming breaths and push away the tears streaming down your face. Standing at the entrance to the living room frozen, you aren't sure if you are actually at home or back there with him.

You startle and jump, letting out a small shriek, hearing a sound in the kitchen. You turn slowly, shocked to see Jake staring at you dressed in his NWUs instead of his flight suit. You are equally surprised by the sight of him home in the middle of the day, in a uniform you rarely see him wear.

The adrenaline of being scared forces your brain into letting go of the nerves and panic you had barely been keeping in check. Tears spring freely from your eyes as you take gasping breaths. J ake sets down the knife he is holding and takes long strides across the room to quickly reach your side. His hands hover near you but don't actually touch.

"What's wrong?" Jake asks in a deep voice.

You just shake your head at him, unable to respond, instead focusing on getting air into your lungs.

"Can I touch you?" Jake asks then, and that does seem okay, so you jerkily nod your head yes.

First, his hands settle lightly on your shoulders. Once it seems like you are okay and comfortable with that. Jake goes a step further and wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest. You press your face into the material of his shirt. Your hands come up to bunch it slightly on his chest as you find purchase to clutch him closer.

He makes gentle shushing noises but otherwise doesn't say anything while holding you. He is so warm, and his arms feel strong around you. Jake's hold on you doesn't waiver once while you cry. Only relaxing slightly when your sniffles and crying start to level out and you let go of his shirt.

You take one more deep breath of him. Jake smells of a pleasant mix of his body wash, y'all's fabric softener, and his cologne. Letting the calming effect of the smell flood your system before letting go of your hold on him completely, only then does Jake let his arms slip away.

Pulling away from the hug, you shyly look to see Jake's face. You find that he is already looking at you. For one of the first times since you met him, you don't like how Jake's face looks. There is a soft and sad demeanor that you see in his eyes. His eyebrows crease and his lips are pressed into a flat line. You feel embarrassment and shame flood you. The way that you just broke down and cried on your roommate, fully processing in your muddled tired head.

"You're home," you eventually say, trying to break the ice and put a brave face back on.

"Yeah, I'm not flying today. So, I had the time to come home for lunch."

"Sorry to interrupt." You say, looking down to examine your feet.

"You didn't interrupt anything," Jake reassures you. He goes back to the kitchen, and you watch as he continues to cut ingredients for his salad.

"Do you want me to make you anything?" He asks.

"No, thank you. "You say not feeling even a little hungry.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jake asks next.

"No, thank you," you say again and settle at the kitchen island to watch Jake cut the veggies and toss them in a big bowl.

"Okay," he says. You like that Jake doesn't push you for things. He respects the boundaries you set and doesn't even try to toe up against them.

"Am I allowed to know why you aren't flying today? I thought someone had broken in. Plus, I hardly recognize you out of a flight suit."

"You don't like these?" Jake asks, looking at the Navy camo print he is wearing as if this uniform suddenly offended him.

"I didn't say that," you tell him, giving a small laugh. Obviously, Jake could make anything look good, even things that shouldn't.

"Can't fly every day." He says with a shrug. "Also, I'm going through some maintenance stuff and checks with my sailors."

You hum, but otherwise, don't comment watching Jake wash the knife and cutting board he had been using then. Then, after he drys them and puts them away, he turns back to you.

"There isn't anything to be embarrassed about," he tries to venture lightly.

"You don't come home and cry on me," you say, frowning.

"You sure about that one?" He asks, shoving a mouthful of salad into his mouth.

"Pretty sure that I would remember such an occasion."

Jake just hums. One of those sounds that makes you feel like he doesn't actually agree. A few bites of his food later, he sets his bowl down. His green gaze is trialed on you, but then he glances at his watch, huffing in annoyance.

There is a slight caving feeling inside you. You feel bad. How much of Jake's lunch have you taken up? You had never actually seen him come home for lunch before, so he must not get a long time.

"I do all the time. Maybe just a bit less of the wet physical crying." Jake tells you, putting a container lid on his bowl.

"You could," you utter to him, a little embarrassed.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, wouldn't bother me if you ever needed to. You know. I'm here for you."

"Thank you, Darlin," Jake says. Then glances at his watch again. "I got ten minutes before I have to go. What would you like to do?"

"I'm fine," you tell him. "You should use that time to eat."

"I'll munch while I'm doing some paperwork later."

That was a lie. You knew that Jake would never eat around paperwork. However, it was the kind of lie that settles warmly. It was one of those lies born with good intentions and made to be soothing. You could never be upset that he is even trying to comfort you at his own expense.

"I don't want to talk about it, Jake." You reiterate again.

"I know, and you don't have to. I won't ask again. However, if you ever decide that you do. I'm here for you too. Always."

"Thank you, Jake. You're a really good roommate."

"I hope you can consider me a friend too?"

"Of course, we are friends too," you reassure him. Jake's lips quirk upwards, his dimples flashing upon hearing that.

"Now, I can't go back to work without seeing at least one smile."

"That's a pretty tall order."

"Well, they don't call me the best for nothing."

"Do they really call you the best or is that something you just tell people?" You ask him, mostly joking. Jake pretends to take offense, pressing his hand dramatically to his chest.

"Ma'am, you wound me," Jake says, pouting.

"I don't know. I think it is a pretty legitimate question."

"I am the best."

"And how do they determine that exactly? Who the best is."

"Well, there are a lot of ways. Many different factors to consider."

"Oh really?"

"Yup. Also sorts of stuff, but they get us all together once a year, and we have a competition."

"What kind of competition?"

"Only the elite members of the Navy participate. We all take turns sliding."

"Sliding?"

"Yup," Jake confirms, sounding one hundred percent serious. "We set up a huge slip and slide on the carrier runway. You only get three tries, and then we add them for scoring. I may have ripped off all the skin on my chest last year, but it was worth it to win."

You can't help but let out a laugh. You picture Hangman competitively sliding down a yellow tarp that doesn't have enough water on it. It's such a silly concept you aren't sure where he came up with it.

"Ahh there she is," Jake says with a broad smile.

"I never would have thought that was a skill the Navy values."

"Yes, Ma'am. It's actually the second part of the Naval academy mission," Jake tells you, still maintaining a serious tone despite his smile. Then Jake stands up straight to his full height in parade rest.

"To develop Midshipmen morally, mentally and physically and to imbue them with the highest ideals of duty, honor and loyalty in order to graduate leaders who are dedicated to a career of naval service and have potential for future development in mind and character to assume the highest responsibilities of command, citizenship and government." Jake repeats dutifully and then adds. "In addition to putting these ideals to the test by hosting the world's most competitive slip and slide competition. Weirdly, people don't talk about that second part much."

You only laugh harder, shaking your head at him. "Yeah, an absolute mystery. I can't believe that isn't common knowledge."

Jake chuckles along with you. Then you two are interrupted by a timer going off from Jake's phone. He sighs and silents it.

"I'm sorry. I've got to go, sugar. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah. I promise I'm okay. Thank you, Jake."

He bites his lip and nods at you going to put in his shoes and lace them back up. "Are you going to be home later?"

"Yeah, I'll be home."

"We could do something if you're feeling up for it. Or I can pick up takeout."

"That's sweet, Jake, but you really don't have to."

"I want to," he says with a shrug. Then checks his reflection in the mirror, making sure he is presentable to go back to work. After that, he turns back to you.

"I'll think about it." You tell him before playfully shoving him out the door so he isn't late. You try not to melt when Jake gives you another hug. You catch his hand just before he is too out of reach.

"Thank you, Jake. For making me smile."

"It's the prettiest thing I've seen all day," Jake says, squeezing your hand with his own. His words muddle your brain a little bit. You don't get to say anything else before he heads off to his truck, waving at you one more time and driving off.

You also pretend you aren't screaming on the inside when Jake comes home from work that night with your favorite food and ice cream. The night feels easy and warm, sitting and eating with Jake. The events of that morning can't cross your mind while Jake tells you all about some of the weird contraband he found in the junior sailors' barracks that day. He is no less than spellbinding.

🏡🧩🏡

Jake is sitting at the kitchen table when you get home from work. He is surrounded by neatly organized papers spread all along the table in various piles. Jake is wearing a button-down, tie, and slacks that make you do a triple-take on him.

"Welcome home," he says, glancing up from his laptop that is open in front of him. That's when you see he also has a pair of glasses on.

"Thank you," you say, slowly making your way to the kitchen but still looking at him.

"What are you working on there?" You ask.

"Oh, I'm doing my taxes," Jake says while giving you one of his winning smiles.

"Taxes?"

"Yes, Ma'am"

"I guess that makes sense," you say while looking around the kitchen for a snack.

After a few minutes of silence, you decide to ask another question. "Do you have a date later?"

You knew Jake dated. A man who looks like that has to date. However, you had yet to see him ever bring someone home, which felt odd considering everything about Jake, and the persona he liked to put on as Hangman.

"No. What makes you ask that?" Jake asks you.

"Oh. I don't know. You're dressed like you are going on a date."

"No, I'm not," he says, looking down at himself.

You laugh at him and shrug. "If you say so."

"I would never wear this on a date," Jake mutters, clearly offended.

"Well, then, why are you wearing it?"

"I'm doing taxes," he says again.

"Yeah, we have covered that. What does that have to do with your clothes?"

"I'm dressed like an accountant," Jake tells you. You can't hold back your giggles at his phrasing and bring a hand up to your mouth to try and stifle them before giving up entirely.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Two things," you say, holding up two fingers, finally biting back your giggles.

"One, the fact that you got dressed up to do your taxes. The second is that being an accountant is a euphemism for being a sex worker." Jake chuckles at your explanation but shrugs.

"Well, Mrs. Celeste said I should always dress for the day. It helps you present your best self. If you dress the part, it helps you act that part." Jake says that like a well memorized and treasured quote. A saying he clearly remembered with much fondness.

"And today is my tax day, so I am dressing like a tax professional. I will have you know. Since I started doing them myself, I have never had one problem with my taxes."

You couldn't help but chuckle more at his explanation and give him a fond smile. Sometimes the way Jake was so perfectly built and attuned for the military was endearing. Of course, a career Naval man would think a uniform was essential for each different activity.

"So, are the glasses part of your tax uniform too?"

He made a show of pushing the said glasses further up his nose. "Yes, Ma'am. They also are blue light blocking, which helps prevent migraines."

You nod along to his explanation. You finish putting together your snack and lean against the kitchen counter while munching on it. "Who is Mrs. Celeste? A teacher?"

Jake's lips flatten slightly before the expression relaxes just as quickly. "No, Mrs. Celeste is my Babula."

"Your Grandmother?" You guess.

"Yeah, sorry. My grandma, but she was strictly Mrs. Celeste growing up, only Babula occasionally."

"I don't think I've met someone who calls their grandparent by their first name."

"Well, not really her first name. You have to be respectful and throw the Miss in there with it. She is a very particular lady."

"Is it a southern thing?"

"Yeah, maybe," he says with a small laugh. The edges of his lips quirk up, and you have to look away from Jake to distract yourself. It is easy to fall into the trap of how beautiful he is, with the sparkle he can get in his eyes. Or how even the smallest of his smiles makes you want to grin back.

"So, how are the taxes?"

"Oh, it's good. I'm almost finished up."

"Awesome, congrats Jake."

"Have you done yours?" He asks you.

You shake your head and roll your eyes at the idea. "No, I definitely haven't."

"But you got your W2s in the mail last week."

"Jake, are you snooping through my mail?"

He raises both his hands up in defense. "No, I'm not! W2s just have a very particular look."

"I'm just kidding. I know you wouldn't snoop through my mail. Yeah, I got them, but I've been busy. I guess I should make a Tax Masters appointment or something."

That crease in between Jake's eyebrows appears, the one that haunts you, that you pretend you don't obsess over. Followed by a small frown.

"Tax Master?" He asks, clearly appalled. You shrug back at him, not entirely seeing the issue.

"I could do them for you," Jake says, then quickly adds on. "I mean, I can help you do them. If you have the time. I'm already dressed for it, and I won't charge you or anything."

"Oh no, Jake, that is so sweet, but I can't ask you to do that."

"No, really, I wouldn't mind. I think it would be fun. Plus, then you will have it done, and you won't have to worry about it."

"Really, thank you so much, but it's fine."

Jake's frown deepens at your answer, and he seems almost genuinely upset at your denial of his help. The warm feeling in your chest likes to flip over and grow a little bit more each time he is too sweet in moments like these.

"You know Javy warned me that you were an asshole when I was going to move in. However, you have not once lived up to that. You could stand to be less nice to me, Jake." You tell him. You mean it to come off as almost flirty and a bit of a joke. However, it doesn't seem to land with him that way.

The change that comes over Jake isn't something entirely tangible. It is almost like a shift in the air around him rather than anything physical. The way Jake looks at you just feels heavier and more charged. The confidence he always exudes seems to double with how he sits up just the smallest bit straighter but then leans back against his chair casually.

"Go get your W2s." He tells you in a perfectly level tone, but it has a demanding edge.

"Jake," you start to say and roll your eyes at him.

"Nope," Jake says, popping the p. His voice takes on a lower candace, leaving no room for arguments. "I'm not giving you a choice. We are going to do your taxes."

"No, we aren't doing my taxes."

"Yes, I am. I can't be caught not living up to my reputation. So, I'm not going to be nice and accept that you don't want to. This is one of the few situations I won't take no for an answer."

"It was just a joke."

"No, it wasn't," Jake says, giving you a small shrug. You can't tell if he is actually hurt by how he is acting, but you suspect some part of him was twinged at his best friend's description.

"It really was, Jake. Javy adores and trusts you. I'm sure he never would have suggested me moving in with you if he actually thought you were an asshole."

"I know I'm an asshole. It's fine, sugar, don't worry. I'm not going to tattle on you telling me that to Coyote."

"You aren't an ass, though. That was my whole point."

Jake just shook his head at your answer. "I am one, and I don't want that to be a surprise when you inevitably witness it."

You aren't sure how to respond to that, so you are relieved when Jake changes the topic. "Now, get your tax stuff, so it doesn't take us all night."

"Okay," you sigh, giving in to defeat. Jake gives you a mega-watt smile, and looks back at his computer screen.

As you are walking up the stairs, you hear him yell across the house. "Dress like your best accountant self!"

"I won't be doing that," you yell back.

"Please! It's important." Jake yells back.

When you are in your room getting all your stuff and paperwork pilled together. You find yourself opening your closet and pulling out an outfit that you could imagine wearing if you were an accountant.

You also spend several minutes too long wondering what would happen if you went back downstairs in the most provocative lingerie you own. After all, Jake didn't specify which type of accountant to dress up as. You wondered if it would be tempting to Jake. Could you provoke him into falling into lust with you? Tempt him enough that he took you on the dining room table on top of all the Tax paperwork? Jake has expressed attraction to women before, so there must be at least some part of him that is at least a little attracted to you.

You smash down your thirsty thoughts and try to screw your head back on straight before it can drift too much off on track. When you get back downstairs, Jake is still at the table. You dump all your stuff on an empty spot there.

Jake looks up from his computer and smiles at you, quirking an eyebrow. Then, Jake speaks to you teasingly, "And here I thought you might dress up as the other type of accountant you were telling me about."

Your brain has no choice but to start short-circuiting, and you open and close your mouth twice. Jake starts shuffling through your paperwork, looking at what you have brought him.

"I ordered us some pizza too," he says before you get out a proper response or say anything teasing back to him.

"Yum. I'm excited," you tell him sliding into a seat and opening up your own laptop.

He stops his shuffling and examination of the papers to level you with a serious look. "Thank you for indulging me, by the way."

"Anything for you, Jake," you tell him and mean it. Unfortunately, the way you feel about your roommate is rapidly spiraling out of the tight control you tried to keep it in.

"I like when we do fun things like this together," Jake says to you, grinning.

"Me too," you tell him. Then add, "Only you would find taxes fun, though, Hangman."

"I am about to show you just how fun taxes can be and how you can get a great return," Jake says, taking your words in stride.

Jake does your taxes almost entirely by himself, only asking occasional questions. He also then organizes all of your paperwork in an extra accordion binder he has. The taxes aren't fun, but spending time with Jake is.

"Thank you," you say to Jake daring to press a soft, affectionate kiss to his cheek. You linger for a moment, the prickle of his end-of-day stubble ticking your lips, but you don't mind it. When you pull back to gauge his reaction, Jake looks almost pained and upset. You worry for a moment that even just a cheek kiss could make him react this way. You briefly thank god you didn't actually try to seduce him earlier.

"Always, anytime." He finally says. However, Jake is now glaring down at his keyboard and not looking at you.

"I hope it wasn't too much trouble," you venture, confused by this mood shift.

"Sugar?"

"Yes, Jake?"

"I don't think you should pay so much rent."

"What?"

"Listen," he runs a hand through his hair, pushing it all out of sorts. "I just don't think it's fair for you to pay so much."

"Of course, it's fair. I live here," you explain.

"Yeah, but no. I get BAH, and I don't have any student loans from school. Plus, the Navy pays me plenty as an officer. I was paying for this place all alone before you moved in anyways."

"I'm not going to pay less rent because you saw my financials and feel bad." You tell Jake quietly, trying not to actively become upset.

"Please don't be so stubborn," he pleads with you.

You cross your arms over your chest, "Take your own advice."

"I'm the one being stubborn?"

"Yes! You are. You are the most stubborn man I have ever met."

Jake's frown deepens, and that sad look in his eyes at your words starts to break through to you. Then he responds, "I'm sorry. I guess I'll try and work on that."

Jake starts meticulously putting things away into different folders. He moves through each of his piles on the table and doesn't spare you a second glance. It leaves a crushing feeling in your chest.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"There is no need to apologize. I'm the one who is sorry." Jake says, shrugging off your apology.

"No, you don't need to apologize. I understand why you said what you did. I know you were trying to be sweet." You start to say but are cut off.

"I wasn't trying to be sweet."

"Oh my god. Okay, fine, trying to be nice, then," you say, rolling your eyes.

Jake sets down the folder he is currently holding, and it thumps a little bit on the table. The force and loud sound make you flinch.

"I'm not sweet, nice, good, or kind. Okay? I'm not any of those things. I call things how I see them. I look at facts, figures, and numbers. Then I run calculations and act accordingly."

"And how is it mathematically possible that me paying less rent possibly works out for you, Jake? You will be losing money." As he shakes his head, he huffs at your words a little bit like they are funny.

"You could do a lot and make a lot of gains if you paid less rent, and I don't mind picking up the extra amount. You might be one of the few people I haven't hated living with. I don't want you figuring out you need to live somewhere cheaper and moving out on me. So, I'm not being nice. I'm being a selfish asshole." Jake clenches his fists hard, and you see his knuckles start to turn paler. With a deep breath, he relaxes and shrugs. Loosening the tight coil of his muscles, Jake gives you a curt tight lipped smile with a nod. "I'm just a selfish asshole, okay?"

"Please stop. Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true," he says, rolling those beautiful eyes at you.

"It's not true. Also, I would prefer if you don't use the word selfish around me, please." You say in a surprisingly steady voice. You don't really want to get triggered right now, and you could only hope that you wouldn't have to explain triggers to Jake. It takes him one moment to think and another to process before he says anything.

"Oh fuck. I'm so sorry. I won't use it again." Jake promises, no questions asked. His words blow up a balloon in your diaphragm, making it feel like your breath is about to catch. Then he adds on, "If there are any other words…" He looks around and grabs a loose pen and one of his notebooks. Jake slides them across the table to you. "Write them down. Maybe? If you can."

The warmth Jake inspires in your chest is unparalleled and drowns out anything you can think of aside from how endearing he can be and how fond you are of him. Jake doesn't take the lack of response from you well.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes again. You spring from where you had been sitting, walking slowly and deliberately toward him. You make sure to give him plenty of time to protest and say something.

Jake looks steadily back at you. However, he looks like he is preparing himself to be slapped or punished, holding perfectly still. Instead, though, you wrap Jake in a tight hug. He is stiff as a board beneath you. After a long moment, as you consider pulling away, Jake relaxes and wraps his arms around you. They are wrapped loosely at first but then tighten in small intervals until Jake is practically clinging to you.

"You are so good," you whisper to him, a little dazed. You are almost stunned by how desperately Jake tries to pretend otherwise.

"Don't say that," Jake whispers in a broken voice, hugging you a bit tighter.

"Too good." You left the words for me unsaid, but you felt them.

"I'm really not."

"It's okay if you don't see it. I see it for you. I'll make sure everyone else sees, too," you tell Jake curling your hands into a fist in his shirt.

He doesn't say anything but keeps holding you tightly. You don't know how long the two of you stay embraced like that until Jake finally eases his grip on you, and you reluctantly pull away from him as well.

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. "Please stop paying so much in rent," he requests again.

"That will not be happening, Hangman."

"So stubborn." He sighs. Jake kisses your forehead again. He leaves his lips lingering, and you start to count the breaths memorizing how warm his lips are. Three breaths later, he is pulling away. Jake grabs his laptop and a stack of folders heading upstairs without another word to you.

You stare after him for a while, trying to parse out the mystery Jake presents, and coming up a bit short, just like you always did. He is one of the most outwardly confident men you have ever met. Yet, other times, Jake is the first person to make a self-deprecating comment about himself. You swallow down how much you desire more from him, wishing for more, knowing you can't and shouldn't have it.

🏡🧩🏡

You and Jake were lounging on the couch. He was scrolling on his phone, avoiding going to the gym, half-heartedly trying to convince you to go with him. You were also scrolling your phone while deflecting Jake’s offers.

That was when your doorbell rang, followed by heavy knocking. You and Jake both look up at each other. He raises his eyebrows, and you just shrug, having no idea who could be at the door. Jake looks back to his phone, clearly ready to ignore it, when the doorbell rings twice more, and the pounding on the door gets louder. Jake sighs and gets up, walking across the house towards the noise.

“Hold your horses out there!” Jake yells towards the door before opening it.

You wait for a moment, trying to hear who it is, curious about who would be so rude and what they needed. However, you don’t hear anything from where you are on the couch. So you stand and follow Jake into the entry hallway.

“Sir, I am going to have to ask you to leave.” You hear Jake say. He is standing at his full height in the door frame.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” You hear from on the other side of the door.

Nervousness shoots through your whole body hearing that voice. Anxiety immediately pops up, and your stomach drops. You know that voice. You have heard it a thousand times before. Why was he here? How was he here?

“I asked you to leave, Sir.”

“Just tell that little bitch that —”

Jake steps further forward onto the front porch. “Now, we don’t speak about ladies like that where I am from. And I’m going to ask that you act accordingly while at my home, Sir.” Jake cuts him off with that well mannered southern military niceness.

“I don’t give a fuck where you are from.”

You flinch at his tone of voice, feeling bile rise up in your throat. You lean against the wall slapping your hand over your mouth, trying to prevent yourself from throwing up.

“I asked you politely to leave. I won’t ask again. I can call you a taxi or an uber. But don’t you dare take one more step on my front porch.” Jake says in a deep tone. You are hit with the sudden, horrifying realization that he is going to hurt Jake, and that is something you just won’t let happen.

You are trying to go through possibilities in your head. Anyway, this could shake out; it would be bad for Jake. Jake would either get hurt and get in trouble, or he would kick ass and gets in worse trouble. This would end badly; either way, Jake is going to get in trouble, and it would be your fault. You would be responsible because you caused this situation. Jake was going to pay the consequences all because he was trying to protect you. You were roommates, so Jake must think he has some obligation to protect you.

You feel swamped in stress knowing how easily Jake can escalate a situation and provoke someone; sometimes, all it takes for him is one well-placed smile. That stress is finally what unfreezes you, and you stumble towards the front door.

Jake’s large, broad form still mostly hides your view of the other side, but you cautiously approach and set your hand gently on the back of his shoulder. You feel how tense Jake’s muscles are under your hand and can see it in the line of the back of his neck.

“Sugar, I’m not going to tell you what to do,” Jake says in a deep voice. He doesn’t budge an inch or look back toward you. “But I would like to suggest that you go back inside. I have this handled.”

You want to cry. You want to cry for so many reasons: cry because you are in this situation, that you have to deal with this again, that you feel so small. However, you mostly want to cry because Jake “Hangman” Seresin is such a good man. It’s startling sometimes, not because it’s really unexpected, but rather that it is so completely and bluntly genuine.

Having Jake here defending you, trying to protect you from the person who has probably scared you most in your life, it feels so silly to pretend like you don’t have feelings for him, to pretend that you aren’t more in love with him than you ought to be.

The realization doesn’t really feel shocking; it is closer to acceptance. A given truth that is part of your life now. An empowering truth that swells in your bones like a swift tide, filling up the spaces that have been empty for so long.

You love Jake more than you are scared. The warmth of affection towards him is so hot it burns out the freezing ice in your veins and the numbness in your fingers. You love him, and you will be damned if you let Jake be hurt, touched, tainted, or affected by this man who has hurt you. It seems cliché that loving someone like this is enough for you to finally break through the barrier of fear you have lived your whole life in. However, now it just feels so simple.

Your heart is beating hard. The adrenaline is pumping through you so strongly that you can hear it echoing in your ears. Your hand slides up Jake’s back to his bicep, and you give him a gentle push. Jake shifts with the movement. He slides to the right so you can finally fully see the front porch. However, he doesn’t move enough that you are fully exposed. Jake’s body is still partially concealing you from view.

Then you hear your name, and your attention snaps away from its hyper-focus on Jake. You turn it forward and brace yourself. You drift your eyes to the ground, landing on the feet of your visitor, staying there for a minute before meeting his burning eyes.

“Hello, Dad.”

“Ah, so she is here,” your father says, throwing his hands up and glaring at Jake. You can smell the booze on him from the doorway. It makes your stomach turn. You resist the urge to wretch, squeezing your hand, which is still on Jake’s bicep. He flexes, and his bicep digs into his shirt as your nails also dig in. You don’t like those angry, hateful eyes on your Jake. Jake doesn’t budge an inch or react to your nails on his skin.

“What are you doing here, Dad?” You ask him. Your hold on Jake acting like an anchor point for you.

“You don’t bother to answer my texts or anyone else’s calls and texts. Just because you moved out doesn’t mean you get to be a selfish bitch” your dad spits out.

“I’ve been pretty busy,” you defend yourself in a small voice.

“Oh, I bet you have been so busy. What are you doing these days?” He growls at you. “You know it doesn’t really count as moving out if you are spreading your legs to pay for it.”

You flinch, your hand falling from Jake’s arm and balling into a tight fist at your side. You hate how easily he can make you feel small, even when you are angry.

“Watch your mouth,” Jake hisses, rejoining the conversation. You glance at him, and Hangman is shaking with contained rage. You know this is not a good situation; anytime, someone could blow up.

“You should go inside, Hangman,” you tell him gently.

“Absolutely not,” Jake responds instantly.

“So you are playing the part of a pathetic little whore wife for this pretty boy.” Your dad says, cutting in.

You grit your teeth as he continues on. “Come on. I thought you gave up pussies after our talk when you were in high school.”

With the reminder of just what he is referring to, You are overcome with anger, and you finally can’t take it anymore. You recognize his words for what they are, a direct bait at Jake and undercutting you. It makes you so angry you start shaking. Tears burst from your eyes, trying to let off some steam bubbling inside you. It boils up, so you can’t take it anymore, and you whisper, “Shut up.”

“What?” Your dad asks, clearly shocked. You take a step forward fueled by your anger.

“Shut the fuck up.” You pronounce each word slowly. Then continue on, “I’m tired of this. You don’t get to be mean to me and still expect a relationship with me. You don’t get to hit me, yell at me, and abuse me just to show up at my house on your bullshit. And you sure as fuck don’t get to say anything about Jake.” You suck in a rapid breath, the words fueling the fire in you. Your angerburning brighter with every word.

“You made me think that kind, decent men didn’t exist, Dad, but Jake is good. He isn’t a pretty boy. He is smart, sweet, strong, and kind. I will not hear you say one more thing about him. Ever.” You punctuate the sentence with a jab of your index finger at him. He looks like he might be cowed, and before you can even finish a prayer that he will be done, the fire in his eyes lits again.

“You could have at least found someone who stands up for you. A real man.” Your dad isn’t even looking at you when he says it. Instead, he is staring at Jake.

“That’s a rather rude thing to say about an active duty Naval Officer,” you hiss. Your dad takes a step back, his eyebrows raising, reexamining Jake. He shifts his weight between his feet nervously.

“You aren’t welcome at our home. So leave and crawl back into the bottle you drank before coming here. Don’t come back, Dad. I don’t want to see you.”

You try to force your body to relax, but the adrenaline is still pumping hard in your veins. So, you start to walk backward back into the house. Jake still hasn’t taken his eyes off your dad, and he makes no move to come with you back into the house.

“Jake?” You ask.

“Just give me a minute, sweetheart. I need to have a talk with your old man here and make sure that he makes it home.”

“I don’t want him near you.”

Your dad still looks blown away by this turn of events. Like he is scrambling to put words together. He keeps looking back and forth between you and Jake.

Jake breathes out heavily through his nose. He turns his head enough to glance at you. Whatever he sees on your face must break his resolve. Jake clenches his jaw, and you watch the muscle flex once, then twice. After that, he rolls his shoulders, and it’s like Hangman is physically able to just shrug the tension of the situation off.

“Get home safe, Sir. I suggest doing so soon. MAs are known to drive down our street.” Jake says it in a light, easygoing tone, border lining on cheery. Then, plastering that practiced, perfect smile on his face, Jake nods his head toward your dad and comes back into the house.

Jake closes the door but doesn’t move, staring out the frosted window on the front door. His body is tense again, standing rigidly at his full height. You are still shaking from anger. You slump against Jake’s back, letting your body weight shift into his. One of his arms bends backward a bit awkwardly, sitting on your waist. His large palm is burning hot. You can feel it through the fabric of your clothes. Then Jake’s fingers flex to give you a small squeeze of reassurance.

When Jake finally does move, it is just to turn away from the door and wrap you tightly in his arms. You enjoy the warmth of his strong embrace, feeling exhausted as the adrenaline starts to fade. Jake is still shaking, though.

“He’s gone,” Jake says into the crown of your head. You let a little sigh escape you, feeling a bit more of the tension release.

“Good,” you manage to tell him.

“I wanted to defend you. I wanted to slam his face so hard into the porch that he wouldn’t ever be able to open his mouth again. Wanted to tell him how you are—”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you cut Jake off before he can continue. You don’t want to know what he thinks about you right now. You can’t handle whatever words could spill out of his mouth next.

“I’ll make sure he never comes back here,” Jake says, his voice dropping, and you feel the rage contained in him, the subtle shake and heat coming from how tense he is.

“I don’t want him near you. If something happened to you because of him….” you trail off. Your hands wander the expanse of Jake’s back in an almost soothing motion. However, you don’t know who it is soothing more, you or him. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

He takes a deep breath and then releases it in a heavy sigh. “What if you just give me his full name and social security number? You wouldn’t have to know about anything else.”

“Jake,” you whisper in a tone that is almost reminiscent of amusement.

Jake sighs again. He draws back from your hug and cups your face. He swipes his thumb across your cheekbone, wiping away the tears that have been lingering.

“You are the kindest, most compassionate person I have ever met,” Jake whispers. Considering how he is looking at you with a glimmer in his eyes, it’s clear the emotions of the situation are still running rampant. That look, paired with how he is holding you, makes you think Jake might be about to kiss you.

“No, No. Stop.” You don’t know if you are trying to ask him not to kiss you or to stop talking. Either way, you feel like you might explode if this interaction isn’t over soon.

“Yes,” Jake says. “Let me, please.”

His thumb is still tracing along your cheek, and you can’t help yourself from leaning a tiny bit into his palm. An action that momentarily freezes his thumb before it picks up steadily again. Not hearing an explicit no from you again, Jake continues on.

“That man has no say over you. Who you are is so stunning. You never deserved to be treated the way you were. I am so sorry you ever had to go through that. I am so sorry he showed up here. You don’t owe him a single second of your time or attention. You are valuable. You are amazing. He is trying to make you small because he sees how good you are.”

A shudder racks through your body, hearing Jake’s words, and fresh tears start to fall unprompted from your eyes. As soon as they do, though, Jake pushes them away. “I am so proud of you for getting away from him. You are so strong and brave. It makes me awed. I’m so glad that you moved in here. You are…” Jake doesn’t finish the sentence, he seems to lose his train of thought. His mouth parts a little bit, and his eyes flash down to glance at your lips.

Jake is going to kiss you, and it might possibly be the worst thing that could happen. If he kisses you right now because of your dad, you know you might break into a million different pieces. You don’t want Jake to kiss you for any reason but pure desire and affection. You don’t want him to kiss you in comfort, or pity, or convenience, or as an outlet. You don’t want him to kiss you just because emotions are running high from the incident that just happened. Most of all, you don’t want Jake to kiss you and not mean it. You don’t want him to kiss you without the intention of kissing you again.

So, even though you are desperate to feel his lips, and memorize their shape, how they feel against yours. Desperate to discover what he tastes like, curl your fingers in his hair and take comfort in the form of his body. You know you can’t, it has the power to break you, and you already feel so broken and exhausted.

You cover the hand Jake has on your face with your own and pull it away. However, you don’t immediately let go holding his large palm. Hangman takes your hint and steps backward, giving you a little space so that he is pressed against the door again. You decide to thread your fingers with his. Jake’s skin is still almost hot to the touch in your hand.

“Thank you, Jake,” You finally say, meeting his piercing green eyes again. You squeeze the hand you are holding. He gives you a tight nod and then tips his head upwards, so he is looking at the ceiling. Jake rests his head against the door as well and closes his eyes.

You observe him for a moment, then you go to release the hand you are holding. Jake stops you, though, his hand tightening as yours loosens, and you try to pull away. You give a little tug, and he tightens his fingers even more. Jake’s head is still tipped, and you hear him sucking in a deep breath before blowing it out.

“Please don’t let go,” he begs you. Jake’s eyes flash open again, and he is looking down his nose at you. “I just, I need you.”

You inhale sharply at his phrasing, and he sighs heavily. “I might do something terrible if you let go of me. If you don’t need me here, there won’t be anything to stop me.”

“You’re not going to do anything terrible,” You say, retangling your fingers with his. Jake’s hand flexes in yours, and he takes another big breath.

“I’ll make sure he loses our address and forgets it too. Make sure he doesn’t remember anything at all anymore. I’ll—”

“You’ll stay right here, Jake.”

He lifts his head so it isn’t tilted against the door anymore and stares down at you. He looks like he is holding on to every word you are saying to keep his sanity. His skin is flushed from anger, and his palm shakes slightly in yours. You were in awe he was able to hold back this reaction so long, remaining calm and collected throughout the entire encounter.

“You will stay here with me, Jake. I need you.”

“Yeah?” He asks shakily.

“Yeah. Need your help, Jake.”

There is a low rumble in his chest, almost resembling the hum it was probably supposed to be. You step closer to Jake, once again closing the gap between you.

“Tell me what you need.” It comes out as a demand, and he seems to realize that when he adds on a small quick “Please.”

You look at him then, trying to read his face and those eyes that haunt your dreams. You examine the creases and lines his face makes with the severe angry look he has plastered on. You take the time to observe how his hair is hazardously falling out of place for how many times he has run his hand through it. You don’t really find any of the answers you are looking for. You just find Jake. And Jake is an oh-so-wondrous thing to find.

You step closer to him and tug the hold he has on your hand again. His nose scrunches for a moment, and his frown tightens. His eyes lift upwards towards the ceiling again as his jaw clenches; he lets go of your hand. Jake’s hand falls heavily back until it hits the door making a smacking sound. You flinch at the sound but take another step forward, crowding Jake against the door. You lift your hand up to trace over his neck and then settle on his face, encouraging him to adjust his gaze back to you. He follows direction and leans into your hold, just like you leaned into his earlier.

“Need you to stay with me,” you start slowly, encouraged as Jake nods his head in a small jerk.

“I need you to leave the front door.”

He considers your words for a moment, then shakes his head. “I don’t think I can do that. I’m sorry, sugar. I need to protect you.”

“There is no one in the world I feel safer with than you, Jake.” He squeezes his eyes tightly closed at those words and pulls in a ragged breath. “So, you can’t leave me alone here.”

He nods again but still has his eyes closed. “Ain’t leaving. You need me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Can I hold you?” Jake asks, then once again remembers his manners throwing out another small, please.

“Yes, please,” you whisper. Jake doesn’t waste a moment before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you snuggly against him. The change of angle causes your hand to slip from his face, so you wrap it around his neck instead, your fingers drifting against the short hairs there. You go to wrap your other arm around his waist but instead awkwardly hit the front door. You hiss out a small breath at the momentary pain.

Jake responds to the sound. He starts walking forward, making you walk backward. Walking while he is wrapped around you proves to be difficult, and you stumble a little. That seems to be all Jake needs; he wraps his arms under your ass and lifts you.

You are terrified at the concept that Jake is going to try to carry you, and you open your mouth to protest. However, with only one small grunt that honestly sounded more like pure sex with how low and husky it is, Jake is carrying you down the hallway. You wrap your arm around his neck more securely, adding a second one for more leverage.

Jake doesn’t stop to set you on the couch like you had expected. Instead, he continues up the stairs and right into his room. He sets you on his bed gently, and you unwrap your arms from his neck, letting him pull away. Jake goes back to the door of his room, closes it, and clicks the lock into place. You raise an eyebrow at his action.

"That’s rather presumptuous, Hangman.”

“What?” He looks at you confused before he looks back at his door. “Oh no, I’m sorry. I wasn’t, I’m not.”

You shush him motioning towards yourself to try and get him to come closer again. “I know.”

Jake comes back to your side. Now that you have been given the temporary clearance to freely touch him, you cannot stop yourself. Jake sits next to you on the bed, and you are scooting closer so that your thighs are flush side by side. Jake throws an arm across your shoulder, pulling you even closer to him.

“Do you need to talk about it?” He asks you softly. You let a hollow dry laugh at his question, your laughter starts to devolve until it’s nearly hysteric giggling. Jake takes it in stride, holding you close and his thumb drawing small soothing back-and-forth shapes. After you are almost breathless and heaving, you finally start to recover.

“I don’t want to talk about it, but I definitely need to. Not with you, though, Jake.”

“Why not me?”

“Because it’s the kind of fucked you talk to a therapist about.”

“I’m a great listener.”

“I know you are, but this isn’t your baggage to pack around and deal with, Jake.”

“Baggage? Sugar, that’s why we have the attic. If that isn’t enough space, or you fill it up. I’ll build a shed in the backyard.”

“What if that’s not enough room?”

“Then we have the garage. We’ll just park in the driveway.”

“You would give up your shop?” You ask, thinking of Jake’s favorite place in the house.

“Yup,” Jake says without hesitating. “And after that, well, I’ve never been too fond of the extra guest room anyway.”

“If that’s all not enough?”

“Then we’ll move. Or we go through it until we find some we can let go of.” Jake says, his free hand crossing his body to settle warmly on your knee.

“It’s not physical baggage.”

“I know it’s not.”

The feeling of affection you feel for him grows even more. Every time you think that there is no way possible you can fall further in love with him, Jake turns around and proves you wrong. He does some kind, funny, sweet, unexpected thing that makes you fall a little harder.

You lift your head and look at him. Jake’s eyes meet your own, the severe stormy look in them a little less present. He is a bit more at ease, no longer shaking with anger. You let your eyes fall to his lips. You briefly think you love him so much it might be worth the risk to shift forward and kiss him. That maybe it wouldn’t lead to disaster like you’ve convinced yourself it would.

“What’s your favorite comfort movie?” Jake asks, breaking you from your trance. You shift a bit further away from him but not far before giving him an answer.

The two of you watch your favorite comfort movie. You are cuddled into Jake’s side the whole time. The two of you had shifted back into the bed, cuddled close while watching the wall-mounted TV in Jake’s room. Exhaustion hits you like a wall as the adrenaline leaves your system, accompanied by the heat radiating off of Jake, the way everything smells like him, and his Tempurpedic bed; you relax more than you have in a long time.

As you start to drift asleep against Jake’s chest, his heartbeat has a steady, soothing rhythm under your ear. You think out of all the times you have dreamed of falling asleep with Jake in his bed, none of those fantasies come even close to how good it actually feels. None of your dreams prepared you for how safe you would feel.

Your dreams also didn’t prepare you for sneaking back to your room at three in the morning when you woke up. Or pretending the next day that nothing had happened. After all, nothing had happened except some tense moments and Jake getting a glimpse of your past. You don’t say anything, and he doesn’t, either. You catch him watching you closer than he would typically for the next few days.

More time starts to pass, and you are thankful that nothing was risked or changed between you and Jake or has affected you as roommates. There are only the slightest moments when both of you are much more casual about physical affection. Hugging Jake was now a commonplace part of your day, and you occasionally catch yourself daydreaming about what it felt like to fall asleep in his bed.

🏡🧩🏡

You had started to pick up what the signs were when Jake wasn't okay, and something was bothering him pretty early into moving in. He had some pretty obvious tells. However, something had been really really bothering him for a while now. He didn't say anything to you, but he didn't have to; Jake's mannerisms gave him away. Jake wasn't following his routine and had started obsessively cleaning.

The other night, he knocked on your door, bursting open seconds after you told Jake he could come in. Then Hangman had all but begged you to let him deep clean your room. When you told Jake no, he gave you a look like you just insulted his Babula and stalked out of the room. Half an hour later, he was back in your doorway, asking the same question phrased slightly differently. You had finally given in after his second time double-checking. However, you insisted that you helped and supervised his cleaning. Once you agreed, Jake had done his happy dance. It was so cute it managed to cover the embarrassment that was crawling in you at letting someone else, let alone the man you loved your roommate, clean your room.

The next day Hangman decided to reorganize all the bookshelves. First by color, then by genre, and even one time by the number of pages. His last reorganization was to put them all back to by author's last name. This was only after Jake talked to you for over an hour about the pros and cons of the Dewey decimal system in modern library science.

After the books, you come home, and there is a puzzle on the table. A 2500-piece puzzle of the painting Meeting On The Turret Stairs. Jake works on it constantly. Only stopping to go to work and the gym. For three days, he doesn't read and doesn't do his sudoku. Jake doesn't sit with you in the living room at night. Instead, he just works on his puzzle, blowing past his typical bedtime every night. Then he stops going to the gym, and a day after that, he cancels his weekly call with his niece. That's when you know without a shadow of a doubt that whatever is bothering Jake must be significant.

Finally, you can't bite your tongue or try to keep your nose out of his business anymore. The concern you feel is too much to handle. You had gotten up at 3 am for some water, and Jake was still puzzling at the table.

"How's it going, Sport?"

"No, I'm Hangman," Jake answers in a quiet voice.

"What?" you ask him, confused.

"Not my callsign," Jake mumbles to you. You squint and try to piece together what he means in your still half-asleep brain.

"You know someone named Sport?"

Jake just shrugs his shoulders, engrossed in his task. "There are worse callsigns to have."

"Like Hangman?" You tease him. Jake finally looks up at you when you say that. Jake's eyes are bloodshot, and he has a hurt look. The small frown, paired with his glassy tired eyes, makes you feel like you just kicked a puppy.

"Hangman is cool," Jake protests.

"Hangman is very cool," you tell him placatingly, holding up your hands in surrender.

"You don't actually think it's cool," Jake whispers, his tired eyes falling back to his puzzle. Jake sounds so sad about it that your feet are moving before your brain, and you are sliding next to him on the bench for the long side of the table.

"Hangman is cool," You say and then nudge him affectionately with your shoulder. "You are cool."

His lips quirk upwards from his frown before falling again. “Well, I am the Hangman.”

"How is the puzzle going?"

"Fine, good. I like puzzling."

"You have done other puzzles?" You ask.

"Yeah, I have a whole box full."

You hum at his words, tiredly wiping your eyes. "You should have been Puzzleman."

Jake's eyes flash over to yours, slightly worried. "Do not ever say that around Coyote."

"Hangman, It's three AM." He looks surprised to hear the time, and you watch him turn his wrist to confirm the time on his watch.

"Go to bed," You add softly.

"I like when you call me Jake."

"Then why do you listen better when I call you Hangman?"

"Hmm, maybe because that's the name I hear most often. Maybe because it's easy to be Hangman."

"Is it hard to be Jake?" You ask him gently.

Jake is quiet for a long moment after your question. Before answering, he sets the piece he had been holding back in its color pile. All he gives you is a whispered, "Sometimes."

You aren't sure what to say, so instead, you put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze it. "It's time for bed, Jake. It'll be here in the morning."

Jake nods his head, listening to you. You get the water you initially came downstairs for and wait until Jake starts up the stairs. Following behind him, you make sure he goes into his room. You aren't really eased about the situation when he shuts the door. However, you are glad he will at least get some sleep.

Before you go back to bed, you shoot your group chat with Marlee and Javy a text.

Have you ever seen Jake do a puzzle?

You wake up to texts from Javy and Marlee, both asking all kinds of questions like: what you meant? What kind of puzzle? With how many pieces? And, how long has Jake been working on it?

From the questions alone, you gather that your worries are correct and Jake puzzling is not a good thing. Getting out of bed, you make yourself presentable enough to venture out of your room and downstairs.

In the mid-morning light, you are once again greeted with the sight of Jake hunched over his puzzle. A steaming cup of tea sitting next to him, and Chris LeDoux playing from the record player.

"Good morning," you say.

"Morning, sugar," Jake says back. You are glad to get a response, but the worry is still gnawing at you. You start putting together your own morning drink, and your eyes keep drifting back to him.

"Jake, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." He says, not looking away from the puzzle piece he is currently studying.

You stop leaning against the counter, taking your drink with you and walk over to his side. Jake is completing this puzzle concerningly fast; you notice examining his progress this morning alone. He keeps staring at the piece in his hand, unblinking even as you approach. You watch him for a few more moments before deciding it's time for you to intervene.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You pose cautiously. His eyebrows crease, and he still doesn't look away from the puzzle.

"About the puzzle?" he asks you in a hopeful tone.

"No, Jake. About what's bothering you."

He finally does spare you a glance, and you don't like how dull his green sea glass eyes are. The normally vibrant, mischievous glint isn't present, and they are slightly bloodshot and red, even after you forced him to get some sleep.

"It's fine. I'm fine. Just work stuff. I've got to finish this puzzle." He tells you, then looks away.

You frown at Jake's answer. Puzzles are supposed to be fun, and you don't think this is actually a healthy, cathartic activity for Jake anymore. You almost preferred his book reorganization or when he went to every door and oiled the hinges, the top and bottom hinges twice but the middle ones only once. When you asked why not the middle one twice? Jake had told you something about middle children that had made you laugh.

While Jake normally released stress through organization, order, and control. The frenzy and energy he has with this puzzle is different. This wasn't like the month after you moved in, and he decided to rearrange his shop in the garage. Jake had reorganized his tools, labeling where they all went. After that, he made you a booklet of where everything in the garage was located, just in case you wanted to use something. Jake was very genuine about it, too. As if he really believed you were about to start borrowing his screwdrivers, saws, wrenches, lathe, and various other tools.

Your frown deepens, and you pull out your phone, shooting a text to your group chat with Marlee and Javy. Answering some of their questions from the morning and shooting back a request of your own.

After texting with them for a few minutes, you set your phone down on the table, taking the spot next to Jake. He gives you another short look but doesn't say anything. You take a moment to look at the piece he has been staring at for over five minutes at this point.

Taking it gently from his grasp, you examine it yourself. A moment later, you place the puzzle piece into the correct spot. Jake ghosts over the piece you just placed and taps it twice as your hand retreats.

"You got to tap it into place," he tells you softly. Then Jake is back digging through his piles, looking for the next piece.

You help Jake with his puzzle for a little bit, pleasantly surprised at the textured surface of the pieces, enjoying how tactile they are. You know this must be a very expensive and nice puzzle. Any time you place a piece, you make sure to tap it twice for Jake. Each time you do, Jake gives a small nod of approval. The one time you forget, his fingers quickly find the piece again and tap it twice with a small annoyed huff. You don't try and coax Jake into a conversation again, simply enjoying just being with him.

Y'all's work is broken a while later by the doorbell ringing. The sound startles Jake, and he jumps in his seat and his head snapping towards the door. You place a hand on his shoulder again to try and ease the sudden tension.

"It's okay," you tell him quietly, giving his shoulder a slight squeeze. "I'll go get it."

"No, I can get it," Jake says, starting to stand up. You know he doesn't like you to answer the front door anymore. He hasn't ever since your dad showed up unannounced. Jake has never explicitly told you he doesn't want you to answer the door. However, you have picked up on it because he has not let you answer the door once since the incident. One time Jake had even sprinted across the house to beat you to the door.

"Don't worry. I know who it is," you say. Jake gives you a concerned look but then nods a little bit. His eyes trail after you as you make your way to the entry hall.

You open the door to Javy's tall form and are immediately wrapped in a tight warm hug. You lean into his embrace, enjoying the comfort for a moment.

"Is it really bad?" Javy asks you in a low voice when you pull away from his hug.

You shrug but then follow it up with a nod. "Yeah. I mean, I don't know. Maybe not? But it's the worst I have ever seen."

Javy gives you another reassuring squeeze before he saunters into the house towards the living area. Jake's eyes are trained on the hallway, clearly waiting for you to come back. However, when he sees Javy, he blanches, dropping his eyes back to the puzzle. Jake's shoulders hunching tight almost up to his ears.

"Hey, Hangman," Javy hums.

"Machado," Jake says gruffly, fiddling with a piece.

Javy shocks you by not immediately going over to Jake. Instead, he meanders over to your TV. He shocks you even more by opening a drawer in the entertainment center and pulling out an Xbox. Javy starts hooking up the console, and you shift your eyes to Jake again.

He is still sitting there digging through his puzzle pieces. You aren't sure what to do. If you should leave the two of them alone, join Javy in the living room, or go back to the table with Jake. So instead, you end up in a weird middle ground lingering in the hallway. Finally, when Javy has everything set up, and the Xbox booted on, he goes over to Jake. Coyote sets his hands down so hard on Jake's shoulders that it jostles the blond a bit.

"Wow, buddy, this is a nice puzzle," Javy says casually.

Jake just hums in response, placing a puzzle piece and tapping it twice. Only answering once he picks up another piece. "It's a watercolor by Frederic William Burton. He painted it in — "

"It's time for a break, Hangman," Coyote says, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"Naw, you see this section," Jake gestures generally towards the entire surface area of the puzzle. "It's almost done."

"Nope, it's break time," Javy repeats more firmly.

Jake's shoulders hang, and it looks like it takes him physical effort to stand up from the table. Jake's joints and back audibly pop from the action, and he raises his hands above his head to fully stretch.

You try to root yourself in concern, not thinking of the flash of skin you saw where Jake's shirt rode up a bit. Jake blinks a few times, and when he finishes stretching, he turns to fully look at Javy.

"How long are you staying?" Jake asks, daring to glance back down at the puzzle. Javy snaps his fingers in front of Jake's face twice and then points aggressively toward the couch.

"As long as I want to," Javy responds with an upbeat tone and a wide grin. He gives a light shove, and Jake shuffles over to the couch. Jake looks at you as he walks, and you can tell that he feels betrayed.

"I'll leave you to it," you say, ready to retreat into your room.

Jake looks away from you then, and you don't like the flash of embarrassment on his face as he does. It's been odd seeing Jake so completely out of his element and uncomfortable in his skin the last few days. Embarrassed wasn't a look that fits well on Jake. It made you want to rush in and remedy the situation.

"You don't gotta go," Jake calls to you.

"Javy came over to hang out with you, Jake." You say plainly. You want to give them space to talk and hang out.

"Yeah, bro, feeling the love," Javy says jokingly. It earns him a sharp jab to his side from Jake. The action just makes Javy laugh, though. "Don't worry so much, Hang. Marlee is coming by later with dinner, and then all four of us will kick back, but right now, it's me, you, and the Master Chief."

"You'll hang out with us later, though? Or are you doing something tonight?" Jake asks, ignoring Javy.

"There is nothing I would rather do tonight than hang out with you," you tell him. Jake's eyes snap up from where they had drifted to the left, lowered just enough not to meet yours. The burning bright color in them is startling after the dull, distant look he has supported the last few days. You can't stop the words you say next, needing to try and back peddle. It takes a long beat before you say, "and Marls and Javy. I don't know if you've ever had Marlee's green chile enchiladas, but they are to die for."

"They are so good," Jake agrees enthusiastically and looks down at the controller he is holding for the first time. Javy then shoots you a smile with a thumbs up, and you are reassured enough that you head upstairs and into your room.

You hear Javy's voice behind you, "You know Marlee only cooks for two reasons."

You close your door before hearing Jake's answer and resist the urge to eavesdrop. A few hours later, you hear loud yelling and laughter from the living room. Then get a text from Marlee to send the boys to help her get the food out of her car.

The rest of the night is mostly light, and Jake almost passes for his normal self. He jokes with Coyote, eats two helpings of Marlee's enchiladas, and with you... well, with you, he is hot and cold. One moment Jake will be flirting with you in a heavy bravado, then the next, he falls into a quiet, contemplative silence. Javy has to herd Jake away from his puzzle three separate times. It gets easier to draw Jake back in every time; the last time only took a question directed toward Jake to draw him back to you guys.

It is a good night, and everyone seems happy at the end. Jake hugs Javy and Marlee goodbye and leaves you to walk your friends out. You let out a small sigh of relief, seeing Jake walk up the stairs and not back to the dining room table.

You talk with the couple for a few more minutes on the front porch, then hug them goodbye. You are thankful for them, to have such good friends who are willing to be a support system, for you, for Jake, and for their other friends too. It warms your heart, and it feels a lot like family.

Jake's puzzling is less frenzied after that night, and he starts to reign back in. He has full conversations with you again and goes to the gym after work as well. He follows Javy's rules that had been texted to you both and doesn't puzzle by alone again.

For the next week or so, Javy and Marlee end up in your living room in the evenings. Keeping Jake from becoming too obsessed, you also notice that he won't let Javy or Marlee touch his puzzle pieces. But when Jake does work on the puzzle, and you are home, he always invites you to join him.

Jake makes an effort to converse with you while working too. The conversations you two get into range from academic to childhood memories, favorites — books, movies, foods, bands, animals— funny stories, and anything else that would pop in your heads. Of course, each puzzle piece must still be double tapped into place, and you are meticulous about following that rule.

Puzzling in the evenings with Jake surprisingly becomes one of your favorite times of the day. Sometimes you would even just sit there at the table with Jake, scrolling on your phone while he works on the puzzle.

Hangman's presence is a comforting steady grounding force, so much so that you can only hope you provide half of that for him. You knew you were roommates, and Jake may not carry the same romantic feelings you do. However, you couldn't deny the plain platonic affection that poured from him, so much you sometimes think M aybe . Maybe he does feel more.

When you enter the kitchen, you see the puzzle is finished. You go to examine it and realize two pieces are missing. You feel a bit of worry creeping up in you, not sure how Jake will react to having lost pieces and being unable to complete the puzzle.

You start to look around, checking every chair and bench to make sure a piece hasn't fallen. You shine a light under the couch in case they slipped under there. Then you are flipping up the edge of the rug in the living room and trying to think of any other feasible place the pieces could have disappeared.

"What are you doing?" you hear, and you snap your head to see Jake standing on the other side of the couch, looking at you bemused.

"Sorry, I was just looking for your missing pieces," you say, straightening up and fixing the rug.

Jake quirks an eyebrow then he follows your gaze to the table where his puzzle is. Jake's mouth drops open, lips barely parted, and a soft "Oh." falls out like he didn't even make the sound intentionally.

"No luck so far, though. I'm sorry. I'm sure they will turn up. Only so many places they could have gone," You say, making sure to project an upbeat, positive tone and attitude.

Jake looks between you and the puzzle twice before suddenly you are graced with the rarest of Jake Seresin's smiles. It is one you have only seen a handful of times. It's different than his smirk and his confident panty dropping smile. It's not the smile that he gets when he laughs, and his eyes crinkle around the edges or the mouth wide open smile. It's not his practiced perfect smile he uses for pictures.

No, this smile is closed-mouthed, those pearly whites hidden from view. It's a quirk of his lips like Jake is trying to hold it back from showing it on his face but he isn't entirely successful. His bottom lip is tucked a little bit between his teeth as if he is physically trying to bite back the expression, none of which prevents Jake's dimples from popping up.

It's a smile that always leaves you a little stunned, and this is no exception. Not that there are many things about Jake that don't leave you feeling that way. This smile, paired with the soft look in his eyes, makes you want to melt into the floor.

"I have the pieces," Jake tells you then. It takes you a few moments to process his words.

"Oh, you do?"

"Yeah, I do," he says and pulls out a ziplock baggie from his pocket with the two pieces in it.

"That's great!"

"They weren't lost. I was saving them, actually."

"Saving them for what?"

"For you. Well, for us."

You don't think you are able to hide your surprise at his words. "For us?"

"Yeah. You know, so we can finish this puzzle together. We worked on it together. So, we should finish it together. Few things match the feeling of putting the final piece of a puzzle into place."

God, you want to kiss him. You want to grab his face and smash your lips against his. You want to taste him and thread your fingers in his short dirty blonde hair. The little fantasy starting to form in your brain is cut off by Jake walking over to the table.

You follow him there, and Jake sets the last two pieces on the table, letting you pick which one you want. Once you make your selection, Jake grabs the other one.

"Okay, on three," he tells you with a grin. At his countdown, you both place the pieces of the puzzle. Automatically you double tap your piece into place. Jake was right; it is an extremely satisfying feeling finishing the puzzle and seeing it whole for the first time.

Your gaze drifts over the puzzle, and you look up to see Jake staring at you instead of the finished piece. After a moment, you realize what is wrong. Your hand reaches across and gently nudges Jake's to the side. Then you tap Jake's piece twice, realizing that for the very first time, he seemed to have missed that compulsion of his. However, you knew it would bother Jake when he realized he had forgotten, so you make sure to complete the ritual.

Jake's gaze snaps down to the piece you had tapped for him. Then his knuckles purposely brush against the back of your hand, sending shivers up your arm.

"Thank you," spills from both of your mouths at the same time, which makes you laugh.

"Jinx," Jakes says in a rushed voice, making you laugh harder. That odd tension in the air between you two disappears.

You walk into the kitchen and grab a white claw from the fridge, bringing it back for Jake, handing it to him. Jake is a strict enforcer of the jinx soda pop rule. The two of you look at the puzzle for a few more minutes. Taking in the stunning painting, the yearning and sadness of it never fails to impact you.

While the two of you had been working on the puzzle, Jake had told you many different facts about The Meeting On The Turret Stairs. How it was a watercolor painting by Frederic William Burton, the poem it was based on, the era it was painted in, and its place in Irish art.

When you asked Jake more, he surprised you by knowing hyper-specific details and answers off the top of his head. Intrigued, you learned how he had double majored at Annapolis in Aerospace Engineering and History. However, because Jake was golden boy Midshipman Seresin, he had gotten away with his final history thesis being art focused. Hangman more than understood how to be charming when he needed to be.

"What now?" You ask him.

"What do you mean?" Jake asks, confused.

"What do we do with the puzzle?" you ask. It sounds much better than what you wanted to say. What now between the two of you? What were you going to do to keep spending time together?

"We take it apart." Jake shrugs.

"No," you gasp, horrified thinking of all the time you had put into the puzzle just to undo it and throw it back in the box.

"What else would we do?" Jake asks you. You think for a moment before smiling at your own idea.

"Let's Mod Podge it, and then we can hang it up. We have some pretty bare walls in the house, and it is a stunning piece of art," you suggest.

Jake doesn't even take a moment to think it over before saying, "I love that idea."

So, you two are driving to the craft store to get cardboard and Mod Podge. A week later, the puzzle has been cemented and hung on the wall in between your and Jake's rooms upstairs. After the puzzle is finished, Jake is back into his sudoku and his various other reading books. He still lingers near you in the evenings, waiting longer than he used to before retreating to his room for bed.

One night almost a month after you two had finished the puzzle, Jake brings the subject up again. You two are lounging on the couch, he had just gotten home from watching the Army-Navy game at a bar with some of his friends, and he is definitely a little bit tipsy.

"I am going to build us a puzzle table," is the first thing he had loudly declared, walking in the door.

You were instantly worried about why Jake might want to start a new puzzle. "Is everything okay?"

Jake doesn't seem to hear you, though, as he continues on. "A really nice one that opens and closes with velvet or something so we don't have to worry about losing pieces, and maybe I can even make it an adjustable height?" He is talking to himself more than to you.

You watch as he grabs a notepad and pencil out of a drawer. Then he slumps on the couch. Before you know what's happening or can stop it, Jake has his head on your lap and is sketching design ideas, potential measurements, and materials.

"How are you doing?" you ask him again, staring down at his face, unable to contain your enamored smile. Jake just nods his head and keeps sketching while mumbling.

You run a hand through his soft hair tentatively. It is a bit longer than usual right now, almost out of regulation. He will need to get a haircut this week, but the strands are so soft, and you can't help but enjoy that there is a bit more there to run your fingers through. His eyes instantly close, and he hums contently at your touch.

"Hangman?" you ask him almost teasingly, halting your movements.

"Yes, sugar?"

"Are you okay?"

He blinks his eyes open and looks at you. Their gleaming sea glass green color is a little glazed over and so very soft. His mirth is open and obvious to you. "I'm so great. Navy won."

"That's great. Go Navy." A wide grin splits his face wide, and Jake's eyes actually crinkle closed, hiding their unique color from you again.

"That's right, Honey. Ooh ahh!" Jake responds automatically, making you both laugh, and maybe you had been drinking a little bit of wine before he came home; perhaps you were warm from that, or maybe Jake was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Your eyes lock with his, and your hands pull out of his hair. You let one drift trace his face helping him relax the furrow in his eyebrows.

"Why do you want to start a new puzzle?" You ask.

"No new puzzle. A new table." He corrects you. Jake taps his pencil on the notepad pointedly.

"For a new puzzle?"

"You liked doing a puzzle with me, right? Well, after the first bit, you liked it?"

"I loved it." The words slip out of your mouth before you can amend the sentiment to come off less forward.

"Me too,"Jake says and trails off for a moment. Then he continues asking, "So you would be open to doing another one with me? Just for fun this time, not my mental health." Jake doesn't say the last sentence with any bit of shame or embarrassment, which you admire. However, the vulnerability is obvious and glaring.

"Yeah," you confirm, once again having to run your fingers over his brow to relax his face.

"Perfect. I'm building the table, then. You can pick the puzzle this time."

You can't help but let your hands slip back into Jake's hair, and he returns to sketching on his notepad. It was a moment of quiet peace you knew you didn't ever want to let go of.

"Javy said that you don't like to do puzzles with other people, and that's what helps you pull out of the pit."

Jake's eyes don't leave his notepad, and he turns the page. You watch Jake start to scrawl the pros of a dovetail joint versus a dowel joint before he starts to draw it out as well. You almost don't think he will say anything back by the time he finally does.

"You aren't other people," Jake tells you, as he starts drawing in shading, which is completely unnecessary for anything beyond aesthetic. He bends the lines from a basic blueprint to a detailed drawing of a realistic table joint. It was distracting watching the engineer in him flow into the unexpected artist.

The idea that you ever had thought his talent for art and engineering were such radically different things was a bit funny. Now that you see him dance between the lines back and forth so elegantly that you understand it wasn't two competing sides of Jake. It was just him. It was how he worked and operated.

It was how he was Hangman and also Jake. It was how he could fill out sudoku then go to bed at 9 pm and how he could shoot pool until closing with the squad. It was how he was a cowboy and a pilot. It was how you wanted to cry a little bit, knowing he enjoyed you there, knowing you weren't like other people.

And you are struck with the thought that you don't ever want Jake to do a puzzle with anyone but you. You never want to see him sitting alone at three am with bloodshot eyes putting pieces into place again. And you don't even want to consider him explaining animatedly why he believes a piece goes in one color pile and not the one it was originally sorted to anyone but you.

You want to be selfish with Jake. You want to have him, and you want to keep him close, never letting go. Surely you could convince Jake to be yours. It was a selfish act that could be forgiven if you promised to cherish him. After all, there were worse things in the world than loving someone, so entirely the fact they might not love you to the same degree didn't hurt so much.

Jake flips to the next page in the notepad and starts to sketch out the living room. As he works, the living room table starts to look significantly different than your current one.

"Oh. It's for the living room?" You ask him.

At first, he just hums in response, but when he finishes rounding out a line, Jake lifts his pencil from the paper. It pauses there, poised and frozen, as he asks, "Do you want the dining table instead?"

"No." As you continue, the pencil falls back to the page, "It just wasn't what I was originally thinking."

"I could do a dining room table too. They could even be made of the same wood." Jake says. His green eyes broke from the page to glance up at your face for the first time in a while. He searches your face trying to gauge your reaction to his suggestion.

"Two puzzle tables?"

"Think of all the possibilities. We could do two puzzles at once." Jake gasps. You kind of hate the excited timbre that Jake's voice picks up at the idea, but you actually mostly love it.

"Just one puzzle at a time, please." You say, giving his hair a teasing gentle tug, ignoring the sharp inhale of his breath that immediately follows. You refuse to give away the unexpected thrill sent straight through your body that settles at your core. You have to consciously make sure your words do not fall out rushed, "I think it would be nice to have out here, comfier."

"I thought the exact same thing."

"Oh really?" You ask, amused.

"Yes, Ma'am. I've got two words for you, puzzle naps."

You huff a small laugh at him and bite your lower lip. He flips back to his first page of notes, where he had a small list of wood. He adds cherry to his list after oak.

"Juniper is really pretty," you suggest. He immediately starts to write down your suggestion with a little heart next to it. When Jake starts to shade in the heart, you feel like the one in your chest might actually burst out. Something very similar to butterflies was fluttering around in you, but it is much less nervous and rather born of pure fondness.

"Sounds beautiful. I'm sure it's perfect," Jake tells you.

"Let's pick one together, though. It should be our choice."

"No," Jake says, drawing an elegant oval around juniper. Then he goes back and strikes a straight line through the other options. "No one else has ever remembered to double tap."

Jake spends a few more minutes detailing the design before his eyes start to get sleepy, and his pencil marks become light and halting. It doesn't take much from you to encourage him to go to bed, just a whispered suggestion.

He stumbles up from the couch and places a kiss on your forehead. Jake puts his notebook on the counter in the kitchen. After that, Jake circles back to press a second lingering kiss to your forehead. You watch him go all the way around the house to double check the locks, the front door, the garage, and the back door. Finally, after sending you two finger guns, Jake drags himself up the stairs, humming Anchors Aweigh.

"Until we meet once more, here's wishing you a happy voyage home!" You loudly hear him sing. You listen to Jake as he hums his fight song while randomly peppering in other lyrics. When you finally hear him close his door, your mind makes a decision on the war it's been having.

You are going to do whatever it takes for Jake Seresin to agree to be yours. Potential consequences be damned; Jake is worth the risk.

Tags :

jake seresin x reader hangman x reader top gun x reader top gun

2K notes View Post

lovesleclercs

2 years ago

So obsessed

Filet Mignons and Parking Spots

Summary: Against your better judgement, you agree to have dinner with the human equivalent of a Hangnail, aka Jake Seresin. A follow up to Matcha Lattes & Parking Spots!

Warnings: Language, lots of banter, Jake getting turned on by women who are mean to him.

This was ridiculous. Absurdly so.

He clearly wasn't taking you to dinner because he actually wanted to learn how to park better. He was hoping he could win you over with that small town billboard dentist ad-smile and be allowed into your pants.

Which wasn't happening. No way in hell was he coming near you.

You refused to give him your address. Like hell he was going to learn where you live.

You: I've listened to way too many true crime podcasts to give you my address. You've already shown signs of being a psychopath with how you got a Matcha latte with zero sweetener.

Hangnail: ooo what's your fav podcast? :) :)

You couldn't tell what was more annoying: his insufferable overall being or the fact he responded to every insult with a question whose goal was to learn more about you.

Like he actually wanted to get to know you.

As your grandmother would say, "His cornbread ain't done all the way in the middle."

And yet, here you were, outside the restaurant, waiting to see if this douchebag could show up on time. You didn't have high hopes, considering his parking skills.

"Hey gorgeous."

Fuck, right on the dot.

Your lips couldn't help but part when you turned around and saw the bouquet in his hands.

He brought flowers. The red roses popped against the anemones and white narcissuses. A yellow satin ribbon wrapped around the stems.

"Figured the goddess of love deserved some gorgeous flowers," He grinned.

You wanted to gag.

"You're supposed to take them." You couldn't decide what was worse: that stupid, nearly blindingly white grin or the Texan accent that laced his words.

You hesitantly took the flowers. They were pretty. But they were also given to you by a dude who couldn't park.

And who drank skim milk.

"They're the flowers associated with Venus, the goddess of love," He said. He looked so proud of himself, you could see him dying to pat himself on the back.

You rolled your eyes, "Yes, I also had a Percy Jackson phase and went on Wikipedia to look up what was associated with each God. Also, these flowers are associated with Aphrodite, not Venus."

The living embodiment of a graduated frat bro shrugged, undeterred from your comment, "I mean, they're basically the same."

You took a step back, "No they are not….Jesus Christ, I have to teach you how to park and the difference between Roman and Greek Mythology?"

He just continued to smile, "Told ya I need that second date."

"You need someone to inspect that head of yours," you scoffed, trying to ignore that warm feeling swirling around your stomach as he opened the door to the restaurant for you.

The human hangover had the audacity to laugh at your comment, "My squad said the same thing today."

There wasn't going to be enough alcohol to get through this evening.

—------------------------

You were stunning, absolutely gorgeous. The soft lighting casted a soft glow across your face, highlighting your beautiful features.

Jake was surprised when you pulled out a marker and a sketchpad. You were keeping your word. You were committed.

He loved it.

"So your speed affects the angle you can pull your- are you even listening, Flyboy?"

"To you? Of course," The lovesick look that had taken over his face remained. It would be cute, if it wasn't so insufferable.

You scoffed, "Alright, then paraphrase it for me. You do know what that means, right?"

You looked ethereal as you stared up at him through your lashes. Your brows were raised to indicate your low hopes for him. The way your bottom lip slightly jutted out, forming the most adorable frustrated pout Jake had ever seen.

"Based on your calculated average of my speed, I need to decrease my that by about forty-five percent, which would put me at going thirty five and a half miles per hour. This would increase my adjustment time by," he moved his head back and forth as he paused, briefly counting, "....twelve seconds, which will allow me greater control of switching from a ninety degree angle to hundredth and twenty."

"You pulled that out of your ass," you deadpanned.

"Do the math if you don't believe me." Jake leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms as a smug grin spread across his face.

He didn't know why Javy was so worried. He was winning her over in no time.

"Wow," you looked up from your phone after toying with the calculator app on your phone, "You can do more than just count to one hundred and smile?"

"Darlin," he chuckled, "You don't become the only current generation aviator with two confirmed kills by coasting on good looks alone."

Boom. Stuck the landing. Jake was internally scoffing at Bradshaw's comments from earlier, about how he'd be lucky if he left this date with no wine thrown at his face.

Jake knew he'd have you falling for him in no time, especially after you learned exactly who you were with.

Your face remained the same, apart from a raised eyebrow, "Only two?"

The corners of your lips turn upward into a smirk as that cocky grin of his faltered.

"Within the first month at my last place, my cat brought me four mice and two birds. Just saying," you brought your wine glass to your lips, savoring the few moments of silence.

Jake was thankful he had put the napkin over his lap. It perfectly covered the semi he had been sporting since y'all sat down.

"Birds and mice are not the same thing as what I've done," he nearly huffed.

You grinned, shrugging your shoulders, "I think they're pretty comparable."

Jake huffed, "No they are…."

Oh.

You were trying to rattle him. On purpose. And it almost worked.

He loved it. It was fun, listening to your every word. The fact he actually had to try to see what impressed you. And boy, did he want to impress you.

"Um…are you two ready to order?" Your waiter asked. It wasn't the first time he had come in at an odd point in the conversation with zero context.

You were thankful, because it meant that you wouldn't have to deal with the Abercrombie and Fitch wannabe model's stupid stare. The one where his green eyes literally sparkle and a dreamy smile plastered his face.

"I'll take the hanger steak, medium rare, but with no caramelized onion butter and instead of the garlic mashed potatoes, I'll have the asparagus," you told them.

"I'll have the filet mignon-"

"You're at a steakhouse and you're ordering a filet mignon? The most basic steak?" You scoffed at him.

"Oh, so you're also a meat expert too?" Jake asked, his tone playful.

"My dad was a butcher. It's just soft, there's no other redeeming qualities about it. Ribeye or Hanger is better," you explained as you rolled your eyes.

"Alright, then I'll take the ribeye. Medium rare."

You weren't expecting him to actually listen to you. You were expecting a scoff, an eye roll, a comment about you being too smart, too obnoxious, too annoying.

As if he could sense your confusion, he elaborated, "You said your dad was a butcher. Makes you more than qualified to speak on which cut of steak is the best."

It was uncomfortable, how he hung on to your every word. How he remembered little details. When you mentioned earlier that you had walked to the restaurant, he asked what true crime podcast you listened to on your way here. The way he approached all of this like it was normal, like it was the expected thing to do.

"Also, I have mints, if you want them. No need to avoid great food."

"What the hell are you talking about, GI Joe wannabe?" That feeling of uneasiness began to morph into agitation.

"Look, Venus, you don't need to avoid garlic and onions. I got plenty of mints, so whenever you want to kiss me, just say the-"

A bread roll landing right between Jake's eyes interrupted him.

"I have IBS and avoid dairy so I don't spend the next two hours on the toilet, it has nothing to do with kissing you, you Chippendale reject!"

"So you think I'm attractive enough to be a Chippendale?" Was all Jake took from that conversation.

The second bread roll that landed against his nose made him process what you had actually said.

"So what do you eat when you're sick?"

You should have ordered an Old Fashion. Wine wasn't strong enough for this. You pressed the rim of the glass to your temple, hoping the pressure would be enough to wake you up from this nightmare.

"How did you go from me talking about avoiding dairy so I don't shit myself later, to that?" You would have thrown a third bread roll, but the look your waiter gave indicated you might get kicked out of the restaurant for it.

"It's an important question. Because you can't have Mac and Cheese, or pasta, or broccoli cheddar soup. So what do you eat when you're sick?" Jake repeated, unaffected by your comments.

He was quite impressed with your aiming skills. He imagined the two of you at the Hard Deck, laughing while you threw darts, a gold wedding band adorning your left hand-

"I mean, hard cheeses don't really bother me that much, it's pure cream and milk I really avoid," you shrugged, "Usually I order something with noodles and sauce, like Pad See Ew."

He tapped a finger against his chin, which you were pretty sure could crack a nut with.

"Good to know."

"Good to know?"

"Yeah, it's always good to know what someone likes to eat when they're sick." It was frustrating how you couldn't get a read on him. Was he truly being genuine or was just a dumbass? Or both?

You scoffed, "I don't know why, considering I don't plan on getting sick anytime soon."

"I hope not, I want to see you again sooner rather than later," He smiled, those darn dimples showing again, "but it's good to know for the future."

The future.

There were so many reasons to throw a bread roll at his stupid face. His heinous parking skills. His stupid callsign. The fact he kept insinuating that he would see you again.

It would have been easier if he was just a jerk who was looking to get into your pants. That's what you were used to. Folks who saw you as just another notch in their belt, not someone worthwhile enough to date.

Instead, he had an ego bigger than Texas, couldn't park to save his life and had questionable taste in caffeinated beverages.

“Y’know, I think I finally figured out who you look like,” you said before taking another sip of your wine.

Jake smiled before twirling that toothpick, which you really wished he'd stopped doing because it was extremely distracting.

"Oh really now?" He asked, a devilish smirk on his face.

"Yeah," a smirk of your own formed, "Pretty sure I saw your face in one of the stock images my college used for their responsible drinking course every freshmen had to take. You were the frat douche in the polo with a red solo cup, right?"

He laughed. Full on, threw his head back and laughed.

"You're fuckin' hilarious Venus. I could listen to you for hours," He told you after composing himself.

Fuck, he meant it.

You straighten your shoulders as you look across the restaurant, trying to seem as uninterested as possible, "Lucky for you, there's a lot about you I can critique. You just might get your wish, Officer Headache."

"It's Lieutenant," he corrected, though the smile remained on his face.

You put your hand over your heart, feigning guilt, "Forgive me, Lieutenant Headache."

Jake couldn't be mad. You were clever, seeing that he had picked his rank being more important than getting his call sign right.

He loved it, how clever you were, how witty you were. Talking to you was exhilarating, similar to how he felt when he was flying.

"So why did you join the Navy? Did being an Abercrombie model not work out?" You asked, taking a bite of your bread roll.

Jake chuckled as he shook his head, "Actually, I worked for Hollister."

"Wow, thanks for telling me you peaked in 2009."

"Oh, like you didn't have a less than desirable job in college?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

He was trying to egg you on, but you didn't mind. It was nice to see that he could do more than just give you heart eyes.

"I was a barista all through college because I had some dignity."

"So you are a coffee expert!" His sea green eyes lit up when he spoke. That, combined with how he pointed a finger at you, it was…cute.

Wait, what? No. He wasn't cute. He was annoying and cocky and insufferable and agitating.

He was so close. Jake almost got a smile out of you. You were warming up, he just had to be patient.

He most likely wouldn't get a kiss tonight. But that was fine, he could wait. He had a whole lifetime ahead of him.

"Guess so. Which, to me, means that I can continue to shit on your beverage choices," you shrugged.

"You say it like listening to you talk is a bad thing."

Usually it was for other folks. Why he was an exception was mind boggling.

"But long story short, when you join the Airforce, you get shipped out to the middle of nowhere. I already grew up with that, and wanted a change. The ocean was a getaway."

"Huh, I'm surprised. You can say something that's not completely insufferable."

He loved pleasing you. Jake made a mental note to text his mom later that she would soon get her desired daughter-in-law.

"I'm more than happy to keep surprising you Venus." You gagged.

Thankfully your food arrived before he could say any more. You made a mental note to give your waiter a generous tip.

The roasted asparagus looked amazing and you couldn't wait to take a bite out of-

"Wait! Don't eat that." You looked up at him, your fork inches away from your mouth.

"It has butter on it," Jake explained, causing your eyes to roll.

"I go here multiple times, it does not-"

"Excuse me! What is this roasted in?" Jake asked a nearby waiter, picking up your plate.

"Uh, ghee I believe?" Well, that explains why you always felt bloated after eating here.

Jake shook his head, pointing to you, "She's got a dairy allergy."

The waiter apologized, taking your plate away and assuring you that they'll bring something out quickly.

"Here, have some of mine while you wait." He moved his plate over to you.

"I'm not going to sleep with you," you blurted out. After all, that had to be why he wanted to play the hero, right? Lieutenant Headache could get fucked if he thought that was enough to allow him into your pants.

"I'm aware." He didn't sound broken up about it. Perhaps he already had a list of other girls he could call after your date ended.

"And that doesn't bother you?" You leaned back into your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. Your mind kept trying to think of his offensive driving skills and not the fact that no one had ever paid that close attention to your dietary restrictions before.

"I didn't do that in hopes it would let me into your pants. You said it made you uncomfortable. So….I don't want you to be uncomfortable," he smirked, "Besides, I can wait, Venus. Got a whole lifetime."

You scoffed, as this Great Value brand Captain America was unbelievable, "Is that your way to tell me that you plan to kidnap me or something?"

Jake grinned, "Nah. Just plannin' on marryin' ya."

"I think you need to get your head checked." He couldn't be serious. There was no fucking way.

Why would he? You were mouthy and sharp and loud and….he's had heart eyes ever since you first yelled at him in that fucking parking lot.

Oh God, maybe he was serious.

"Maybe you should learn how to park properly first before you think of marriage." You begrudgingly took a bite out of his steak, ignoring the soft smile that plastered his stupidly handsome face.

"More than happy to show what I've learned from you." You looked up. He was serious.

Which was how you found yourself sitting on the grass, watching the human Hangover show his newly learned parking skills.

"How was that?" He yelled, sticking his head out of his offensive Jeep.

You waltzed over, taking your time as you circled the perimeter of his car.

"You're awfully close to the line on the right," you observed.

Jake scoffed, "But I'm within the line."

"You ever tried to park when some asshat in a big car is nearly over the line? Oh wait," you paused, "you've been that asshat. Anyways, it's next to impossible. So you're still a dick when it comes to parking."

"So what you're saying….is I need more lessons?" Jake asked, leaning out the window of the driver seat.

He didn't want lessons. He just wanted another date with you. It was so obvious and-

"Definitely."

Regret hit you as soon as you saw how his eyes lit up and a wide smile spread across his face.

"So we're going on a second date?"

"It's not a date. You need lessons, that's all."

"Lessons….over dinner?" Jake was hopeful. You were reserved and he didn't blame you. But he could see cracks, a wall that was slowly but surely chipping away.

"I'm picking the restaurant as you've shown with your steak choices that you still can't be trusted. And no, you're not picking me up. The verdict is still out on whether you're a serial killer or not."

"Whatever you say, Venus." Jake made a mental note to tell Bradshaw and Phoenix to suck it tomorrow morning because he has gotten a second date with no wine thrown at him, just three bread rolls.

It was then he realized you had leaned forward and it was the closest he had ever been to you. He could see every mark on your skin, all the different shades of color in your eyes.

Man, he hoped y'all's kids would get your eyes.

You were mentally kicking yourself for allowing him to get so close. The smell of cedar wood was overwhelming, you wanted to gag. His face looked ridiculously smooth, aside from the light stubble that graced the lower half of his face.

And now you could see how his tongue and lips moved that damn toothpick, flipping it around effortlessly-

Nope, you had to get the fuck out of here. You were not about to get caught staring-

"See something ya like, Venus?" He asked, his voice low. Damn it, had he leaned in even more?

You took a deep breath before pursing your lips into a sickeningly sweet smile, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"Yeah, I do…" you voice was breathy as you titled your head up, getting closer to his face. You smelled like cocoa butter and your chest was pushed up against the car door and crap, could see the bulge he was sporting in his lap?

Fuck you were inches away from his lips. Jake mentally scoffed at his squad, what the fuck were they worried about?

"A second free dinner. Please thank Uncle Sam for me next time you see him!" With that you walked away, leaving him hanging.

After taking a few steps, you looked back and couldn't help but giggle. He was in the same position, his eyes widening as he processed what you had done.

You were going to be the death of Jake Seresin.

He couldn't fucking wait.

And thanks to that fakeout, he could see your hands up close, confirming that a pear-shaped gemstone would look best on your left hand.

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

@abibliophobiaa @wildbornsiren @maxmayfield @hangmanapologist @sebsxphia @mothdruid @stranger-nightmare @xbamboowishesx @theharddeck @princessphilly @rae-gar-targaryen @shrimping-for-all @mygyn @another-tblr-fangirl @alana4610 @cherrycola27 @annie-franny @whatislovevavy @sugarcoated-lame @ouralcohol @topaz125 @hoe-on-the-range @gigisimsonmars @verdandis-blog@mxgyver @princessofglitterland

Tags :

hangman x reader jake hangman x reader jake seresin x reader top gun x reader top gun

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lovesleclercs

2 years ago

Write that Rooster fic, I dare you.

....

If this is not it....I apologize.

Warnings: Reader is afraid of flying; mostly fluff; no physical descriptions, no use of y/n.

Not beta-read. Based on this post.

"We are now boarding any members of our military. We welcome you aboard and we thank you for your service."

Bradley shifts his bag on his shoulder, scanning his boarding pass and giving the attendant a smile and a nod. He walks down the winding walkway to board. His seat is nearly at the back of the plane—row 27, a middle seat. He'd prefer the window or the aisle—the middle is going to suck. He settles in, waiting patiently as the others board.

A few minutes later, he hears a thud in the overhead bin. He glances up to see a nervous looking young woman pushing her bag even deeper into the compartment before she lowers her hands, straightening her shirt where it's risen while lifting the bag.

She raises a hand, manages an, "Uh," as she points to the window seat beside him.

Rooster nods and stands obligingly, sliding out of the seat to let her in. She mumbles her thanks, scooting past him as quickly as possible and shoving a small backpack under the seat in front of her. Before he can even sit back down, she's buckling up and tightening her seatbelt. His brows raise a touch, but he says nothing. Maybe she just likes to be prepared, or doesn't want to scramble for it while they're taxiing.

He settles down, slouching back in his seat a little and reaching out, beginning to swipe through the tv menu. Out of his periphery, he can see her doing the same, though her hand is…shaking.

Bradley casts her a sidelong glance, brow furrowing a touch. He watches her tap on Live TV, then HGTV. Then her still-trembling fingers lower to her thighs, her palms scrubbing across the denim of her jeans as she turns to look out of the window. It's grey outside; the glass is streaked with rain. He spots her rubbing her thighs again, hears her draw a deep breath in through her nose before she pushes it out between her lips. Bradley turns back to his own screen, set on finding something to watch—and then her leg starts bouncing beside his.

He can't help but ask: "…First time flying?"

"Hm?"

Glancing over, he finds her looking distractedly out of the window again. She glances back toward him, then answers, "Oh! No. No, not first time, but um…I mean kinda! First time in a long time."

Bradley hums sympathetically, glancing up as an air host comes by with headphones. He holds his fingers up for two, thanking them before holding a pack out to the woman beside him.

"Here."

"What?" She turns to look at him finally, and spots the packet. "Oh! Thank you, I didn't hear them, uh…Yeah. Thanks."

"Sure."

He leans back in his seat, glancing down the aisle. The plane is nearly completely full. It won't be long now.

"Oh…Fuck," He hears. He glances around to the window and finds that the slight drizzle of rain has turned into a full-on downpour. The woman grasps the headphones tightly, the plastic crinkling beneath her hands.

Bradley has two options. He can plug his headphones in and let her deal with this in her own way. Or—

"…It'll be okay," He offers.

"No, sure...Probably, just…That's a lot of rain."

"Once we get out above the clouds, it'll be more chill."

The woman glances at him nervously. "It's not the being up there that worries me so much as the…Getting up there."

He nods a little. He could sugarcoat it. Or—

"It's gonna be a little bumpy," He agrees, "Ten, maybe fifteen minutes, some turbulence. And then," He raises his hand, simulating a flat line. "Smooth sailing."

She gives him a flighty little smile, one that doesn't quite reach her eyes. It's the longest that she's held his gaze. It gives him a chance to see how tired she seems—there are heavy bags under her bloodshot eyes.

"Do you fly a lot?" She asks. He chuckles, nodding.

"Oh, yeah," He admits. Her brow furrows.

"Wait, you were—You boarded when they said any military, right?"

"Yep."

"Air force?"

"Navy," He corrects. She mouths the word, nodding. She seems set the say something else, but the jolt of the plane going backward makes her eyes widen, her hands flying down the grasp the arm rests. Bradley watches her little packet of headphones fall to the floor, out of sight.

"It's alright," He offers, "We're just taxiing."

She swallows thickly, nodding.

"I always just—This is gonna sound so silly," She warns, "But I hydroplaned in my car once and I'm just imagining the plane…Spinning."

Bradley smiles a bit, unable to help it.

"That is a little silly," He admits, "But I can see what you mean. Especially with how wet it is out there."

It's the wrong thing to say. He hears the slight creak of the armrests as her grip tightens. His brow furrows a touch as her eyes dart between the window, and the screen on the back of the seat in front of her.

"If you don't mind my asking," He hedges, "Why did you pick a window seat?"

"It was the only seat available," She mumbles. Bradley hums sympathetically. He'd offer to switch with her, but it's too late for that. He glances away up as the safety announcements begin. He only half-watches. The other half of his focus is on her, and the way she gives the announcements her full attention. He can feel the plane picking up speed; he can hear her breathing becoming tighter, and shorter.

Bradley has two options. He can let her ride this out, cope alone, and plug in his headphones. Or—

Bradley gently lowers his hand beside hers, palm open, his thumb brushing her pinky. Her gaze drops to his hand, then darts up to his face.

"There if you need it," He offers with a soft smile. She pushes out a relieved breath, sliding her hand from the rest, into his. Her palm is clammy, and their fingers don't fit right the first time. He maneuvers them so that their hands are interlocked, pressed tightly together as they round to take off.

"Squeeze it if you need to," He urges over the popping of their ears, and the increased roar of the engine. She nods hurriedly, and he watches her eyes slam shut, her face screwing up as they begin to lift off of the ground.

He'll never get tired of it—the swooping feeling of lifting off, like you've left your stomach back on the ground; the force of the engines, and the brief near-feeling of weightlessness as your altitude climbs. It's freeing.

But the way she grasps his hand is grounding him again. He turns to look at her, and finds her eyes still closed. That may be for the best. Looking outside, he finds them completely surrounded by grey clouds. Beyond the wing looks like a simulation—like a video game that hasn't rendered yet. He gives her hand an encouraging squeeze in turn. He grimaces as she sucks in a tight breath when the plane wobbles, hitting a pocket of turbulence.

"It's alright," He soothes, even as her expression pinches further. "Few more minutes. It's gonna be fine."

"You promise?" She mumbles, peeking one eye open at him. He lifts his other hand, raising two fingers.

"Scout's honor," He says with all seriousness. She cracks a small smile, looses a shaky little laugh that puts him at ease.

"I'm Bradley," He offers, trying to keep her mind off of the plane giving another shake. She swallows thickly, gives his hand a thankful squeeze, and tells him her name. He grins, repeating it before he tacks on, "Nice to meet you."

"See? This isn't so bad."

She grunts in response, but she doesn't seem convinced. Her hand is still holding to his, though they're out in clear air. There's a line of pristine blue cutting over the layer of clouds.

"The wing is wiggling," She mutters.

"What?" He laughs.

"The wing is wiggling!" She points with her free hand at the slightly shaking piece. "Should it be doing that?"

"It's only wiggling a little."

"But should it be wiggling at all?"

"Look, if it does that at 575 miles per hour at 35,000 feet, about six miles off of the ground, I'm glad it only wiggles a little."

Bradley reaches around with his free hand and tugs down the window cover. She turns to him, eyes bright with indigence as he grins. He raises to package of headphones to his teeth, ripping them open and drawing out the wires. It's only then that she seems to realize that she's lost hers. She frowns, looking around, and is just as confused as Bradley plugs the jack into her screen.

"Take the left one," He urges. She does, watching him draw the wire wide and raise the right headphone to his ear.

"So," He leans in, "What are we watchin'?"

He's never seen so much House Hunters in his life, but he doesn't mind. All of the episodes are focused on Veterans. It's encouraging, seeing his fellow service men and women retire safely, and happily.

"We can watch something else," She offers for the fifth time. Bradley glances down at where she's resting her head on his shoulder, smiling a little.

"Nah, s'alright," He shakes his head. "Gives me a chance to plan for the future."

"Mm…What do you and your partner want in your future home?" She asks. His brows raise.

"Who says I have anyone?" He plies.

"I dunno. You seem pretty sweet. It'd be nuts for you not to be snapped up." Her admission makes him prickle with flattery, his smile widening.

"Then again," She goes on, "You haven't shrugged me off, so you're either a genuinely nice guy, or you're a dick." She tips her head up to look at him, and they both go still and quiet as their noses brush together. His eyes wander her face, tracing the line of her nose, lingering on her lips as she adds:

"…I'm really hoping you're not a dick," She admits quietly, gaze darting between his eyes and lips, "Be kind of a shame for a dick to have such pretty eyes."

His lips twitch with a smile.

"Hell," He murmurs, "I can't let you down now."

Her smile widens before she repositions her head on his shoulder, eyeing the screen again.

"So?" She presses.

"I don't have anyone," He answers. She grunts, and nods.

"Do you?" He adds.

"Nope."

"Mm."

"Hm?"

"Nothin'. Just. Mm."

She gives a mimicking hum before she snuggles closer. He lowers his head to rest atop hers. His gaze darts toward the closed window. A little part of him is dying to look outside, but…

He glances down, eyeing her head, and their still-clasped hands. He hones in on the warmth of her body, the smell of her perfume, and her sleepy murmur of, "I think they're gonna pick the ranch style," And he smiles.

"Not the craftsman?" He asks.

"Pfffft. Heck no. That's way out of their price range."

"Yeah, but it has a pool."

"Pool-schmool. No way is she gonna go for that one."

As the screen flashes to the chosen house--the ranch style, he mutters, "Well, I'll be damned."

"Stick with me, Bradshaw," She yawns widely. "You'll get the hang of it."

Tags :

bradley bradshaw x reader bradley rooster bradshaw x reader bradley bradshaw top gun top gun x reader

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lovesleclercs

2 years ago

forever winter (lt. jake “hangman” seresin)

a/n: i feel like we don’t talk about Jake post-suicide mission enough, so i wrote this. honestly this has been the most difficult thing i’ve ever written and i’m so glad to be done with it. i don’t know why introspective pieces about Jake give me so much creative trouble but they do

summary: He knows, that on some level at least, he’s not good enough, no matter how much he pretends to be. So he puts on the facade, the “too good to be true” act, and hope no one sees through the cracks. The cracks though, are getting harder and harder to hide. Because he wasn’t good enough, was he? Sure, he saved them, but he still wasn’t enough. And maybe… maybe he’s not good enough to be here. With them. With the Navy. Maybe it’s time he start to figure out life outside the Navy, re-find and meet Jake, a person he hasn’t seen in so long, since the Hangman persona took over.

Because Hangman’s the reason no one likes him, the reason no one wants him around. They say they do now, but all good things must come to an end. It’s only a matter of time.

And then he meets her.

inspired by taylor swift’s “forever winter” and you should definitely listen while you read it.

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist

warnings: kissing, insecurities, swearing, hurt/comfort, angst with a hopeful ending, panic attacks, depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts (if you look very closely), PTSD, child abuse, alcohol, lowkey a character study, as in the relationship is not the main focus, my hometown knowledge pulled through for this one, the author believes men’s mental health needs more attention, gross abuse of italics, i did minimal research about resignation from the Navy

word count: 6,416

The lockers around him open and close as he reviews that day’s training over and over in his head, wondering where he went wrong.

Keep reading

Tags :

jake hangman seresin jake hangman seresin x reader jake seresin jake seresin x reader hangman hangman x reader top gun x reader

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lovesleclercs

2 years ago

NO MERCY || Mafia!Rooster AU

summary: In a game, someone is bound to get played. When set to marry Carter Wilson, you find out that he's cheating on you. Desperate to find a getaway, you rush out and practically stumble into the arms of Bradley Bradshaw. Immediately drawn to him, you're unaware of the dangerous background he holds: King of New York via the mafia. In a tale of twisted schemes, the likes of you soften the man who has no fear in his eyes nor care in his heart. But when a rival boss threatens your safety, it's up to Bradley and those around him to keep you safe.

pairing: mafia!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female!Reader

✧ Rooster masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Tags :

bradley bradshaw au bradley bradshaw top gun x reader bradley bradshaw x reader rooster x reader

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lovesleclercs

2 years ago

Fighter Town Calls

A/N: Guess who has a laptop again! Yes I know it's been a while and I am so sorry. Please enjoy this new chapter of Family Line.

Taglist: @khaylin27 - @renajimaa - @dempy - @peakascum - @luckyladycreator2 - @starkleila - @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy - @havlindzk

Warnings: Fluff, talk of canon character death, a little angst

Characters: Reader / Y/N Seresin nee Bradshaw, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, Nicholas ‘baby goose’ Seresin, Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado, Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky, Sarah Kazansky, Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell, Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw (mentioned), Dagger Squad (Present but not involved)

Summary: Upon your return to Fighter Town, you decide to take baby Goose to see your godfather while Jake and Javy head on over to the Hard Deck. While you play catch up with Uncle Ice, 2 figures from your past can’t help but show up, causing Jake to butt heads with one and embarrass himself in front of the other.

Part 1. Previous Part Next Part

Returning to Fighter Town was both a joyous occasion but also a heart wrenching moment. This was the very town that you grew up in for some time and it was the same town the training accident where your father died in occurred. But since you and Jake were both in the navy, you knew you couldn’t disobey the orders to return.

You arrived a day earlier so you could get used to the house that the navy provided off base for you three and get Nick used to the new change in his life. You managed to unpack majority of your boxes but you figured you could leave the rest for another time.

“Y/N!” suddenly rings out from the lounge room.

“Yes Jake?” You reply, sticking your head out of the kitchen.

“Javy and I are going to head to the Hard Deck to suss out who else is here” Jake informs you, heading in your direction.

“Oh that’s fine, I think I’m going to take Nick to see Uncle Ice” thinking of your godfather.

And with that, Jake kisses you a gentle goodbye before he heads off to meet Javy at the bar. You head up to Nick’s room to wake your napping baby and change him for the trip. While Nick slowly comes out of his sleeping daze, you text Uncle Ice to see if it’s alright for you to come over.

Uncle Ice: Come for dinner, Sarah would love to see you both

Grabbing your keys, you place Nick in his car seat and head on over to the Kazansky residence, a place of your most fond childhood memories. Thinking about how Jake and Javy are going, but with in that split moment Bradley also passes your mind. Shaking your head, it’s never a good thing to bring up the past.

Arriving at Uncle Ice’s, you spot Aunt Sarah at the front door steps as you unbuckle Nick and get him out of the car.

“Oh it is so good to see you dear, and hello little man” Aunt Sarah greets you with a kiss on the cheek and takes Nick out of your arms.

“It’s good to be home Aunt Sarah” you respond back, giving Aunt Sarah a side hug as you both head inside the house.

Looking around, you remember all the times you spent holidays here before the fight with Bradley.

“He’s up in his office if you wanna go see him first” comes from Aunt Sarah, snapping you out of your memories.

Thanking Aunt Sarah, you head on up and knock twice on Uncle Ice’s door. Hearing a rasped “Come in”, you quietly open the door to step through before closing it behind you.

“Hi Uncle Ice” You greet, heading over to give your godfather a kiss on the cheek before sitting on the opposite side of the desk. It hurts your heart to see Uncle Ice suffering from battling throat cancer and the effects on him, but you knew he was a fighter and always has been.

You and Ice spend a few minutes catching up before heading downstairs for him to see mini Goose and have dinner. You talk about what has been happening and if he can give you any details about the upcoming mission, to no surprise he keeps tight lipped about. Continuing eating dinner and spending time with them, you wonder what chaos Jake is up to.

At the Hard Deck

Jake manages to land another bullseye on the dart board causing Javy to groan in annoyance at his friend winning again. While this is happening, there’s a patron sitting at the bar, observing the 2 men. Jake lets out a chuckle before taking a sip of his beer before finishing the game. They both head over to a free pool table where Javy proceeds to rack the balls. While Javy sets up, Jake heads over to the bar to get more drinks courtesy of the patron who caused the free drink bell to ring.

“Penny m’dear,” Jake drawls out leaning on the bartop, “2 beers on the old timer” sending a wink.

Once receiving his order, Jake turns around and heads back for Javy, a slight chuckle leaving his lips at the thought of the man being Maverick, your supposed uncle who caused you heart break one too many times.

Javy and Jake play a few rounds of pool, before the evening rush comes in and things start to pick. Looking up as three people make their way across the bar floor, Jake chuckles.

“What do we have here?” Jake calls out, “Well if it ain’t Phoenix”

“And here I thought we were special Coyote, turns out the invite went to anyone” Jake says with a smirk on his face, waiting for Phoenix’s so loved nickname for him to come.

“Fellas, this here’s Bag man” and there it is, Jake thinks to himself.

It is 10 minutes later while Phoenix is playing a round against her new WSO, BOB,when the bane of Jake Seresin’s entire life strolls through the door without a care in the world.

Now Jake didn’t always have an issue with Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, sure he thought he was a bit of a flight risk, taking too long to make decisions in the air. But as soon as he met and married you, the love of his life, Bradshaw became a lot worse in his books especially because he cut you out of his life and hurt you beyond belief.

Jake clenched his jaw and took a deep breath before he nearly made a comment, or punch the fellow pilot.

“Bradshaw as I live and breath” Hangman strolls around the pool table taking the poolstick off of Bob.

“Hangman” Bradley greets.

Rooster and Hangman exchange a bit of rivalry banter, before Jake decides to move on.

While the juke box cuts out, Maverick's card declines causing Penny to ring the bell once more leading to customers to yell out "Overboard" repeatedly.

Jake and one of the other boys head on over, hooking their arms under Pete's armpits leading him out and tossing him onto the sand.

"thanks for the beers! Come back anytime" Jake salutes the older man, with a cheeky grin on his face.

During Bradley’s ‘famous’ piano piece, Jake decides to head on home hoping to get home and spend some time with you and Nick before tomorrow. Nodding his head to Coyote, he drives out of the car park.

By time Jake gets home, Nick is washed and put into bed asleep while you lay in your bed waiting for Jake to get home. On the drive over, Jake decides not to tell you about Rooster’s appearance in Fighter Town, wanting to spare you the old heartbreak.

You spend some time together in bed, knowing Jake has a very long day the next morning. Only you don’t know what is lying around the corner.

Tags :

jake seresin x reader jake seresin hangman hangman x reader top gun x reader

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lovesleclercs

2 years ago

Oh Christmas Tree

Summary: Bradley’s never been one to look forward to the holidays, that is until he met you. He’s excited to do everything, including getting his very first real Christmas tree.

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, allusions to smut. Minors DNI.

Length: 7.2K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

(What was supposed to be a quick fluffy Christmas fic, somehow turned into this, enjoy!)

The atmosphere at the Hard Deck was livelier than usual, the music seemed more upbeat and the voices a little louder. It was the first time in a while that the entire Dagger Squad was together in one place. News of the success of the Uranium Mission traveled fast and had been keeping them busy in the months that had followed.

Things seemed to settle down a bit as the holidays rolled around, some has dispersed home for Thanksgiving while a few others had been given last minute orders to ship out for a short mission. You’d been dying to take Bradley Bradshaw home to meet your parents in person, but he had been one of the few sent away only set to return the day after Thanksgiving.

You’re sitting across from Natasha at a high top near the pool tables in the back of the bar listening to Jake talk about his visit home, while your boyfriend next to you talks animatedly about something related to his latest mission with Bob.

“I shaved off an extra 5 minutes from the last Trot. Turns out I’m in even better shape than I was the last time I was home for Thanksgiving,” Jake brags smugly taking a swig of his beer from his nearly empty bottle.

“Wait, you come from a Turkey Trot family? That explains so much. Please tell me, you guys wear matching Seresin family shirts for it too,” you tease without remorse. “Oh! Or maybe those turkey leg bobble headbands?”

Keep reading

Tags :

bradley bradshaw x reader rooster x reader bradley bradshaw rooster top gun x reader top gun maverick

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lovesleclercs

2 years ago

Heart's getting soft (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!reader)

Summary: It felt so nice, so normal. Having you in his arms, as you laughed and chatted with his sisters and mother. For a second, he forgot it was all fake.

A dash of angst, lots of fluff, a little smut, and a Christmas fake-dating trope.

Warnings: dysfunctional families, cursing, friends to lovers, fake dating, bed sharing, slow burn, mutual pining, very brief miscommunication, smut, unprotected p in v, very brief oral (f receiving), fingering, breeding kink, not beta'd.

A/N: Finally! I started this thing back in November but anytime I opened the draft I just kept staring at it. It's finished!! I didn't plan on this being so long, but oh well. There's still 1 day left of my 700 follower celebration

Wordcount: 18K

Heart's Getting Soft (Jake "Hangman" Seresin X Fem!reader)

There weren't many things that left Lieutenant Jake Seresin terrified. Fear was a pretty unfamiliar word for him. He was raised not to be afraid of anything.

When he was four years old and cried in his parents’ room, because he heard a noise at night, his father scolded him.

Men don’t cry.

When he fell and scraped his knees, he swallowed the whimpers that were threating to escape and stood up, acting as if the blood trickling down his leg didn’t bother him at all.

You’re weak. I didn’t raise you like that.

When he was 17 and the girl he was dating broke his heart, he never showed it. He told her she couldn’t possibly hurt him, if he never loved her to start with. She couldn’t see through his lie. She couldn't see the broken pieces of his heart lying on the floor.

Love is pathetic. It makes you weak.

When his best friend’s plane was almost shot down, his eyes started tearing up and his throat got tight. He blinked the tears away, without anyone even noticing they were there in the first place. He never showed fear in front of anyone else, instead he bottled all of his emotions up. Javy was okay, after all. What was there to cry about?

Emotions were a weakness and he wasn’t supposed to be weak.

He didn’t fear heights, instead enjoying the rush of adrenaline he felt anytime he was up in the sky. He didn’t fear death, after so many brushes with it. He knew everyone would die one day and he seemingly made peace with it. Yes, there were still some things on his bucket list he wanted to experience, but he felt like he still had so much time to do them. There was no rush.

But one thing that still made the hairs on the back of his neck stand, his heart drum wildly in his ears and his blood run cold, was his father.

Commander William Seresin was a tough man.

He never cried, wanting to keep the image of this heartless, cold monster, because he thought that would make people respect him. He never told his children he loved them, never hugged them, never showed positive emotions. How else would they learn discipline? Love won't teach them to be tough.

Commander Seresin wasn’t a good father, he was far from it.

How can a father make his own children feel so worthless? He always hid his insults behind “words of encouragement”, because he wanted his children to be the best.

You should be better. This isn't anything to be proud of.

As if that made hearing those words any easier.

For this very reason Christmas was a sore subject to Jake. He didn’t spend it with his family since he moved away from home when he was 18.

He missed his mother’s cooking and decorating the gingerbread house with his sisters. He missed sitting around the Christmas tree and watching those dumb Hallmark movies in the living room, even if he complained the whole time.

His mother was pleading with him, begging him to come home this year. He had his answer ready, on the tip of his tongue: I have a mission, I won’t be able to make it there for Christmas. But hearing his mother’s desperation made his heart clench painfully.

So now here he was, having a dilemma, and there was only one person that could comfort him. You.

You and Jake met back at Top Gun all those years ago. You didn’t start off as friends. Hell, he was sure you wanted to punch him any time he as much as looked at you.

Jake was an arrogant asshole, everyone knew that. So of course he started out by teasing you and flirting with you. You didn’t take his shit and humbled him. And as hard as it was for him to admit, he’s been whipped ever since. At first it was just a stupid crush, one that made him feel like a 13 year old, who kept twirling her hair and giggling as she wrote in her pink little diary with one of those fluffy pens.

But then the years went by, without hearing much about you. He thought his luck has run out and he wasn't going to see you again. It's not like he could just reach out to you. You weren't exactly friends.

And then you got called back for the mission. After so many years, you met again at Top Gun. You were just as beautiful as before, just as feisty, but something changed. You were softer when you spoke to him, welcoming. You still bickered like children sometimes and teased each other, but you also became somewhat of a safe haven for each other. Without ever saying it out loud.

Somewhere along the line, after things started to blur between friendship and something more, he fell in love with you. You did too, but Jake was a blind man. He never believed someone like you could ever want someone so broken. If he only knew you had so much more in common, that you were just as broken, he might have changed his mind.

That didn't mean he didn't hope. His eyes lit up anytime you hugged him, or called him over to your place to watch a movie and cuddle. He felt like he was going into cardiac arrest anytime you were near him. He’s pretty sure everyone figured it out by now; not like he could do much to hide it anyway.

Jake’s tired mind wasn’t able to catch up with how fast his legs took him to your house. You didn’t know about Jake’s family issues, nor his own. But just being close to you could bring him a peace of mind like nothing else could.

He found you sitting on your terrace, in a warm Christmas sweater with Rudolph on it, what he presumed was hot chocolate in your hands and a fluffy blanket wrapped around you to protect you from the cold. You looked so cute. He smiled unconsciously, before he realized he was staring at you. He cursed under his breath, realizing just how fucked he was. Running a hand down his face, he walked up to you.

When you finally noticed him, you grinned, pulling up the blanket so he could sit down next to you.

“Hi.” Jake swore his heart skipped a beat, hearing your tired, soft voice.

“Hi, Angel.” you smiled, rolling your eyes affectionately at your callsign.

Of course, you got it from Jake. He was always teasing you with cheesy nicknames, but for some reason, this one stuck. You were mad at him at first, but you got over that with time. He found the death stares you gave him absolutely adorable.

He still kept telling people, very proudly, that he gave you your callsign.

Jake sat down next to you, pulling you closer to him, wrapping the blanket around the both of you. You handed him your cup and he took a sip.

“God, how can you drink that?” he asked, grimacing. He knew you had a sweet tooth, but this was too much, even for you.

“It’s hot chocolate, Jake.” you scoffed.

“It’s too sweet.”

“It is not.” you protested. He loved how defensive you got over the smallest things. Teasing you was always fun.

“You’re gonna get diabetes.”

“Well, it will be worth it.” He shook his head at your antics, but his smile gave him away.

A comfortable silence took over, before Jake frowned, looking at you. “What are you doing out here?”

“It's supposed to snow.”

“So you decided to freeze your ass off?"

“Why do you always have to ruin my fun?” you pouted, trailing your nails down his chest, the action making Jake’s heart beat faster. It was unbelievable how easily you turned him on. He had to bite his tongue in order not to tell you how much he wanted to take you on this fucking bench, before he ruined everything.

“I mean look at it, it’s beautiful.” you said, nodding your head towards the view in front of you. Jake hummed, running a hand down your arm.

You started telling him about the movie that you watched, which you thought he would also enjoy. Small things like this always made his heart leap, knowing that you were thinking about him just as much as he was thinking about you.

But halfway through he stopped listening to you, instead turning his face to look at the sky. The moon was full, illuminating the street even through the slight fog. Every house on the street was decorated with Christmas lights, some more than the other, and he realized how right you were. It was indeed beautiful. He didn’t think there was anywhere he’d rather be than here with you in his arms, right now.

When he didn't respond, you realized he wasn’t listening to you, and although you wanted to be offended, you sensed there was something bothering him. Jake didn’t want to admit it to anyone, but you sometimes knew him better than he knew himself.

“Okay, talk.” you said, putting the hot chocolate (that was now cold) on the table, turning your body towards Jake. He whined at the loss of your body warmth against him, reaching his hand out to pull you close again. You sat farther away from him, dodging his attempt, and gave him a stern look.

Jake sighed. “Talk about what?”

Your gaze softened when you heard his defensive tone. “What’s going on, Jake?”

“What do you mean? Nothing is going on.” He deliberately avoided looking into your eyes, hoping you wouldn’t push it. But you just looked at him, your eyebrow raised, your face screaming something along the lines of Cut the shit. He still didn’t know how you figured him out so easily.

“My mom wants me to go to Texas for Christmas.” he said quietly, so quietly you almost missed it.

Although Jake didn’t talk about his family, you could sense there was some tension. Anytime his father was brought up, his jaw clenched, his eyes void of emotions. It was just a fleeting moment, so short you wouldn’t have even noticed, if your eyes weren’t always on him.

“And you don’t want to?” you asked, shuffling closer to him.

Jake let out a humourless chuckle. “Not really.”

“Why not?” you asked, instantly noticing how his body tensed next to you. You winced, regretting your previous question. You didn’t want to push him too much, scared that he would just build those walls you were pretty sure you already knocked down back up. “If I’m pushing, you don’t have to answer.”

“No, it’s-it’s fine.” he let out a shaky breath, running his hands through hair.

“I don’t really have a good relationship with my father. He’s not really the loving parent type, y’know?” If that wasn’t an understatement.

“Yeah, I get that.” you said, thinking back to your own parents. You knew exactly what he meant. “You don’t have to go. You can just make something up.” You reached your hand out to wrap it around his wrist, rubbing his skin with your thumb.

Jake nodded. “I know, I thought about that. But my mum will be sad and I haven’t spent Christmas with them in years.”

You hummed. “How can I help?”

Jake caught your hand, intertwining your fingers with his, still avoiding your eyes. “I didn’t come here because of this, I just-“ He couldn’t find the right words to express how much you helped him without even knowing it. “You-“

“I what?” You caressed his hand with your thumb, hoping to soothe him. You knew Jake was shit with words, especially when it came to talking about his emotions. Sometimes he got frustrated with himself for it and you wanted to let him know that it was okay.

“There's just something about you that makes me forget about everything else when I'm with you." You looked at him, a little surprised at his admission. He turned to look at you, knocking your knees together. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice I always come to you after a hard day or if neither of us can sleep.”

You smiled softly, your heart clenching in your chest with the affection you felt towards this man. “I did notice. I’m honoured.”

You bit your lip, thinking about something. “Would it help if I was there with you?”

You spending Christmas with him? He would definitely say yes. You spending Christmas with him and his mother and sisters? He would also say yes. You spending Christmas in his childhood home, with him and his whole family, which included his father? Hard pass. The last thing he wanted was for you to find out what kind of a childhood he had, so you had just another reason to write him off as a lost case. As if he didn't already give you enough of them.

Jake shook his head. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. Don’t you have plans with your family?”

You sighed. “You’re not the only one who’s family sucks.”

“I’m sorry.” he said sincerely. You did mention that you weren't on the best terms with them, but he didn't know it was so bad you weren't even going home for Christmas.

If you weren't spending Christmas with family, would you be spending it alone? Maybe he should tell his mom that white lie and just stay with you. Hang a few mistletoes around the house so he could kiss you at least once and then laugh it off afterwards.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s okay. If I have to deal with your issues, at least I can ignore mine.”

Jake pouted at you, acting offended. “Mean.”

You grinned. “I am.”

As much as he would've loved to say yes, he shook his head. “Still. You don’t know what you’d be getting into.”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “Jake. Just answer the question.”

He sighed. “Yes, it would help me immensely if your cute ass was there to calm me down.”

“Then I can come.”

“What should I even tell them? Hey this is my friend Y/N, she’s here because I don’t want to deal with dad’s bullshit alone this year?” That sounded ridiculous and weak. His father wouldn't even let him step through the threshold if he told them that.

“Lie and tell them I’m your girlfriend. We’ve been dating for a while, but you didn’t want to tell them unless we knew it was serious.” Jake was taken aback a bit at how quickly you came up with a cover story, before he even really realized what you said. You wanted to play his girlfriend.

Girlfriend. Which meant there would be hand holding and hugging. Not that you've never done that. But you've never done that while pretending to be his girlfriend.

This would be different. And maybe...maybe he would finally get to kiss you. But now wasn't a good time to think about all the things he'd like to do to you as part of your little plan.

Oh, you were good. It was getting harder and harder to say no.

You sensed that he was contemplating, thinking about this whole thing. You knew Jake enough to know what would work on him. “Tell them I don’t have anyone to spend Christmas with either. And since you’re such a lovely boyfriend, you don’t want to leave me alone, so you’re bringing me home with you.”

Jake groaned, closing his eyes. “God, you’re so good at scheming. It’s so hot.”

You giggled, the sound stirring something deep inside him. He wanted to make you laugh all the time.

Jake sighed then, finally nodding. “Okay. I will call my mom tomorrow.” It's not like your suggestion was so bad. He just hoped it wouldn't end in a catastrophe. He looked at you one last time, wanting to make sure that you thought this through. “Are you really sure you want to do this?”

“Absolutely.” He looked at you, still not convinced. “Let me be a little selfish." You smiled softly, sadness passing through your eyes for only a brief second. "I don’t want to be alone either.”

“You won’t have to be ever again.” When you looked into his eyes, you knew he meant it. You looked down at your intertwined hands, your cheeks flushing with warmth.

Both of you stood up, as the night got a little colder. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a warm hug. “Thank you, sweetheart.” You buried your face into his chest, inhaling his cologne that you loved so much, before finally saying goodbye. You watched as he walked away, disappearing into the night.

That night, Jake lied awake in his bed, unable to sleep, his mind too occupied with you. He thanked the Gods he didn't even believe in, and his lucky star, that he got to meet you.

The next morning, Jake woke up to a text from you, reminding him to call his mother. He smiled, sending you a short response.

Javy, like the amazing friend he was, was hyping him up through text messages, reassuring him that this was an amazing idea. Wasn't spending time with you alone exactly what Jake craved?

Maybe Javy also had a selfish reason for doing this. He just couldn't watch you two dance around each other without either of you making a move, while Jake whined about how much he liked you. It was becoming unbearable to the point he was thinking about spilling Jake's biggest secret to you in order to help his friend (and himself).

Jake clicked on his mom's contact, finger hovering over the call button. He found at least 20 reasons why this was a bad idea and 20 reasons on why this could go terribly. But those 10 reasons on why you playing his fake girlfriend was the best plan you ever came up with were enough for him. There was no one else he would want to do this with. So he called her and waited anxiously, before she picked up.

“Jake, sweetheart. Is everything alright?” He could hear the worry in her voice, which made him smile.

“Hi, mom. Everything’s fine.” he reassured her, making her let out a breath. “Oh, good. Made me panic a little bit there.”

She always worried. He might've been an adult, old enough to take care of himself, but that didn't mean her mind was at ease. Jake could still remember her cries when he told her he was joining the Navy.

At least one of his parents cared.

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine. Just wanted to ask you something.”

“What is it, honey?”

“I was wondering if I could bring someone home.” Jake closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. Why was it so hard to say those words out loud? He practiced those exact words so many times in the past hour and he still couldn't get them out. Maybe if his father didn't teach him his whole childhood that loving someone would make him vulnerable and that it was a bad thing, maybe then it would be easier.

He sighed shakily. “My girlfriend. I wanted to ask if she could come with me.”

He heard as she took in a sharp breath. Was she shocked that he was dating someone? Was she shocked that he was bringing them home? Or shocked he was going home at all? “Oh, honey. You didn’t even tell me you were dating someone. What’s her name?” He could hear the smile in her voice, which made him smile in return.

“Her name is Y/N. We’ve been together for a few months, but we wanted to keep it quiet until we figured out where we’re heading.” It's a good thing he got pretty good at lying about anything by now. It came completely natural. At least this lie wasn't going to hurt anyone.

“Oh, of course. Is she not spending Christmas with her family?”

“She doesn’t have anyone to spend Christmas with, mom.”

She cooed sympathetically. “Oh, poor thing. Of course she can spend Christmas here. You never brought anyone home, I’d be so happy to meet her.” I'm happy you're going to meet her too. It's not you I'm worried about.

But Jake knew there was no point in making his mother sad, so he didn't say those words out loud. “That’s great. Thank you, mom. I will tell her that. How are you?”

“We’re getting by, baby. The last few months have been chaotic thanks to our newest family addition.”

Ah, yes. His little nephew, Noah.

“I can’t wait to meet him.” Jake smiled, thinking about the little boy. He got his sister's eyes and her personality. At just two months old, he was already just as stubborn as her.

“I’m glad you’ll be home for Christmas.” His vision blurred slightly as he teared up. “Me too, mom. I have to go now, we will talk later, okay?”

“Bye, honey. Tell your girlfriend I said hi too. Love you.”

“I will. Love you too.” He ended the call, letting out a breath.

That part was done. Now he just needed to make sure both of you would survive the holidays.

“So you’re going home with him for Christmas?” Phoenix asked, while you were sitting and drinking at Hard Deck. Rooster was sitting next to her, munching on some peanuts, giving you a questioning look.

He was way too judgemental for someone who was sitting in a Hawaiian shirt in the middle of December.

“Yeah, why?” you shrugged, acting like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was and you were freaking out. You were about to go to Texas with Jake, meet his family, all while pretending to be his girlfriend.

Rooster and Natasha looked at each other, before giving you the are you serious look.

Rooster spoke up. “That doesn’t sound very friendly.”

Natasha agreed with him. “His parents were okay with him bringing a stranger to their home? On Christmas?”

Oh. Right. You forgot to tell them the most important part. “He told them we’re dating.”

Their eyes widened, mouths hanging open. “What?!”

You rolled your eyes, groaning. You should've guessed they would make a big deal out of it. “I told him to say that, there’s no need to panic, jeez.”

Phoenix turned to Rooster with a smirk. “I bet you 20 that they’re going to fuck at some point.”

“At this speed, it will take them 20 years to get there. You will get a dollar for every year.”

Bradshaw thought he was really fucking funny with that quip. He didn't even realize he was in love with Natasha yet, so you're one step ahead of him.

“Can you guys stop? Me and Jake are friends.” Just friends. Unfortunately, that was true. And it didn't bother you at all. Nope.

Rooster raised an eyebrow. Were you really that blind? “Friends my ass. You’re way more than friends. Don’t tell me you didn’t think about banging him. I saw how you looked at him when we were on the beach.”

Of course you were drooling when you saw him running in the sand shirtless, skin all shiny as if someone poured a whole bottle of baby oil on him, which made him look like a model during a calendar photoshoot.

You groaned, exasperated. “He’s hot, you can’t deny that. But you know Jake. He doesn’t do relationships.”

“He didn’t do them before. Have you not noticed that he didn’t sleep with anyone for months now?” Matter of fact, you did notice. You kept looking at him at the end of every night you spent at the Hard Deck and he never once even looked at another woman. Maybe he just got bored of meaningless one-night stands? But Bradley didn't share that opinion. “Unless he's practicing celibacy, I'd say he's waiting for someone special."

“Why wouldn't he tell me then? He's the most confident person I know, if he wanted me he wouldn’t keep that a secret."

Bradley shrugged. “He's probably just as scared to lose you as you are.”

You were about to tell him just how dumb that sounded, because this was Jake you were talking about. Jake, who wasn't scared of anything. But what if there was at least a small chance that they were right? Before you could overthink it, Rooster spoke up again. “Anyways, we will see after you come back. Trust me, there is something going on there.”

Natasha smirked teasingly. “Pack some pretty lingerie, I feel like you will need it.”

“Fuck off.” you grumbled.

That's when Jake walked over to the table, putting down your drinks. “Did I miss something?”

You shook your head, sending your annoying friends a death glare. “They're just being asses.”

“Say the word and I will fight them.” Nat and Bradley looked at each other, as Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“My hero. But there's no need for violence.” Jake grinned at you, before getting into a conversation with Rooster.

Natasha nudged you with her foot under the table, while you shrugged innocently.

Throughout the days leading up to your flight, Jake was restless. He wanted to make sure everything would be perfect. He warned his family not to bring up any embarrassing stories, hide all the baby pictures, not be too pushy or overbearing. Everyone reassured him that it would be okay. They never saw Jake like this, so concerned about what someone else might think of him. His mom teased him, telling him how cute it was.

And then there was you. He wanted to make sure you weren't nervous, or that you didn't change your mind. So the next step was to talk about boundaries and make up a story on how you got together, all while hoping that one day, he could take you home and you wouldn't have to pretend anymore.

"So, I assume we can do all the things we usually do, like hugs, hand holding and cuddling?" Jake asked, sitting on your couch as you both ate the take-out he brought. You nodded in agreement. That wasn't too much PDA. You could definitely do that.

Jake hummed, digging his fork into the rice. "What about kissing?" he asked, looking at you to gauge your reaction.

You stopped chewing, as you looked up at him with wide eyes. "Kissing?"

He shrugged. "Cheek kisses, forehead kisses. Maybe a small peck here and there." You were just imagining what it would be like, finally being able to feel his lips against yours, when you felt his foot nudge yours to bring you back to reality. "But if you want we can fully make out in my room, I don't mind."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. But you agreed to the kisses anyway. How could you not?

"And how did we get together?"

"Obviously, you fell in love with me as soon as we met the first time years ago. After lots of begging from your side, I relented and finally went on a date with you." He grinned at you, wiggling his eyebrow.

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Not a chance in hell you're telling that to someone."

Jake laughed but nodded. It didn't take him long to come up with a better story. "We met again after a couple years and I finally had the balls to tell you I've had it bad for you since we met for the first time." If only the whole sentence was true.

You nodded, smiling a little. "Yeah. That's a good story."

After that night the days went by in a blur, before the calendar was showing the big X, the day of your flight.

You were squeezing his hand the whole flight, trying to take his mind off the things that made his thoughts race. But before either of you knew it, the taxi was turning into the street, his house visible in the distance.

“It’s gonna be okay.” you reassured, giving him a soft smile. If his heart wasn't already beating out of his chest, it would definitely sped up right at this moment. You were almost there. Inside his childhood home, where his parents and siblings would all meet you and welcome you with open arms. Except for his dad. And isn't that exactly what he's been terrified of since you brought this up? It's terrifying, knowing that you might look at him differently once you find out what kind of a person his father is.

The car stopped in front of a big 2 story house, decorated from top to bottom. Jake took in a shaky breath, squeezing your hand briefly. “We’re here.”

He handed the money to the driver, as you both got out. Like a gentleman, he took your luggage, and lead you inside.

You heard the rushed footsteps coming towards you, before you saw his mom standing in the doorway with tears in her eyes. "Oh, I can't believe you're here." She hugged her son, as you quietly watched, taking in the peaceful expression on Jake's face. You knew he missed his family. He talked about them a lot. You were glad you could be here to support him as much as you could.

His mom pulled away, looking at you. "Mom, this is my girlfriend Y/N." Jake introduced you with a smile.

"It's so nice to finally meet you." you said politely.

As it turns out, the Seresin's are huggers. "Come here." She pulled you into a tight hug, before looking you over. "I'm so glad my son brought you home."

"I'm glad I can be here, Mrs. Seresin." you said, hoping you were making a good first impression. You really wanted them to like you.

"Call me Pam." She waved her hand with a chuckle. "Go and unpack. I prepared everything you might need, but if I forgot anything just let me know."

"Thank you, mom." She nodded, looking at her son one last time, before leaving you two.

"Come on, sweetheart." Jake took your luggage and lead you upstairs into his room.

You whistled, surprised at how not-Jake his room was. "I definitely imagined your room with a bit more playboy posters."

Jake put his hand on his heart, acting insulted. "How judgemental of you."

If his father wasn't so strict, he definitely would have had them, but you didn't need to know that.

You took your time to look at all the medals hanging on his wall back from his school days, before looking at the only picture he had framed in his room. It was of him and his sisters, back when they were younger. You smiled, putting the picture back down, before unpacking your stuff.

Jake kept stealing glances at you, still in disbelief that you were really here, in his home. He was about to spend Christmas with you.

Once you were done, you went back downstairs to wait for his sister. Jake made you sit down on the couch, after his mom assured you she didn't need any help in the kitchen. He brought you a tray of cookies, as you quietly watched some Christmas cartoon playing on the TV.

The door opened, both of you looking up when you heard someone complaining under their breath about the snow. You instantly recognized Jessica from the pictures Jake showed you. Jake took your hand, both of you standing up to walk over to her.

She looked up, her eyes twinkling with the reflection from the Christmas lights. She had a big smile on her face, showing her excitement. Jake let go of your hand to hug her, but she shooed him away, looking at you expectantly.

Jake rolled his eyes. He knew his sister would instantly love you, why was it surprising that she was more excited to meet you than to see him? “Jess, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is my younger sister, Jessica.”

You smiled at her, a little unsure if you should shake her hand or hug her. So instead, you just stood there awkwardly. “It's so nice to meet you.”

Luckily, she didn't seem to mind. Instead she took charge, walking towards you with open arms. “Oh, come here.” She hugged you tightly, like she was really looking forward to this. Which was surprising considering that Jake only told them that you were dating two weeks ago. “It's nice to meet you too. I can't believe he kept you away from us for so long!” she looked at her brother, scolding him, before she let you go to hug him.

“I had my reasons.” Jake whispered, not wanting to think about that right now. He was just happy to see his little sister.

She sighed, nodding with a sad look in her eyes. “I know you did.”

She turned back to look at you, while taking off her coat and scarf. “How are you finding Texas?”

“It's nice.”

“She's lying, she hates Texas.” You rolled your eyes, silently thanking Jake for throwing you under the bus like that. Traitor. He just couldn't let go of that time when you told him (after way too many tequila sunrises, so it's not like that should count) that you despised his accent, country music, cowboys, and all of Texas.

One of those was a lie and that was his accent. You only said you despised it because you didn't want him to know the effect it had on you.

Also the cowboy thing, was maybe half a lie. He was wearing that stupid fucking cowboy hat and looking so good, it took a lot of self-control not to do what Big & Rich were saying. You didn't really know where you would find a horse to save, but you had already picked the cowboy you wanted to ride.

And okay, maybe you didn't hate country as much as you said, especially when Carrie Underwood was playing. You knew some of her songs word for word. But he didn't need to know any of that.

She scowled jokingly. “How did he convince you to get together with him, then?”

“His good looks and charm?” If she only knew that the only reason you became such good friends was because her brother was absolutely unbearable and wouldn't leave you alone and maybe you kind of liked it. And now, years later, you weren't strong enough to resist his charm.

Just then, a man walked through the door, holding a baby car seat. Jake shook his hand, exchanging a few words, before Jess introduced him to you. “This is my fiancé David and our son, Noah. David, this is Jake’s girlfriend, Y/N.”

“It's nice to meet you. She hasn’t stopped squealing the whole way here, she couldn’t wait to meet you.” You laughed, happy that Jake's family was so welcoming and kind. You heard a small cry coming from the car seat, as you both finally looked at the baby. He was covered in a fluffy blanket, only his little face visible. Both you and Jake cooed, as you saw his little pout transform into a grimace, before his cries got louder.

You wrapped an arm around Jake's torso, leaning your head on his shoulder. “He's so adorable.”

Jess chuckled, shaking her head. “Want to borrow him for a day?”

“If you guys want to have a night off, you can leave him with us.” Jake offered, looking at you for approval, as you nodded.

“Okay, we're definitely taking advantage of that offer.”

David nodded, grinning. “As cute as he is, we're exhausted.”

Jess looked a you pointedly. "We should definitely have a girls night. Leave the kid to the men, go out, have fun. Drink.”

Pamela walked in, interjecting. “If Jake can let go off her for more than 5 minutes, that is.”

All of you laughed, except for Jake, who found it very not-funny. “Stop.”

His mom shrugged. “It's true. The poor girl hasn’t had a second to breathe since they arrived.”

Everyone slowly left the hall, leaving you two behind.

Jake groaned, burying his face into your neck. “I'm regretting this already.” His breath tickled you, making you squirm in his arms as you laughed.

“I'm not. They're nice.”

He sighed, pulling away from you slightly. “Yeah they are.”

You could feel how tense he was the whole time, knowing he dreaded the second his father would walk through that door. Your heart broke for him, as you wanted nothing more than to hold him in your arms and comfort him.

You held his face in your hands, making him look at you. “Hey, everything's gonna be fine. I'm here.” He nodded reluctantly, really wanting to believe your words.

“Come and eat, you're probably all starving.” Pamela shouted, getting your attention.

You walked to the dining room, before Jake spoke up. "We're not waiting for dad?"

She shook her head. "No. He said we should start without him."

You sat down next to Jake, who reached out to hold your hand under the table, making you smile. You all chatted, as everyone kept asking you all about your relationship.

It felt so nice, just sitting there with Jake. You got a glimpse into what it would be like to be his girlfriend and you loved every second of it.

The laughter died down when the front door opened, all of the Seresin's getting uncharacteristically quiet.

You saw the change in Jake the second his father walked in. He pulled away his hand from yours, his smile vanished, his relaxed posture became tense as he straightened out, almost like the person wasn't even his father, but his superior in the Navy. It made sense. He did mention he followed in his father's footsteps. Just like he mentioned that he was a Commander. You should've realized this sooner from everything he told you. Jake probably never had a father, a parental figure. Instead he had a military man, who wanted to form a mini-me out of his child. A perfect soldier.

Which was why he wanted to be perfect at everything, why he was the most competitive person you ever met. Why it was so hard for him to let anyone in.

He didn't want anyone to see how imperfect he truly was. If only he know that was exactly what you all loved about him. Hangman was a selfish, egoistical bastard. Definitely someone his father would be proud of. But Jake Seresin was the sweetest, kindest human, with the biggest heart. That's why you fell in love with him.

You frowned when you saw his jaw clench, wanting to reach out, so he would know he's not alone. But you were scared he would get defensive and that would only hurt and embarrass you. So instead you just gave him space, hoping that he would tell you if he needed you.

His father walked towards his seat, sitting down. Jake gulped, swallowing the nerves, before speaking up. “Dad, this is my girlfriend Y/N. Y/N, this is my father.” His voice wasn't soft or carefree like a few minutes before. It was monotone, almost harsh.

His father finally looked at you two, eyeing you quietly.

“It's nice to meet you, sir.” you smiled, lying through your teeth. You were sure he knew that though, if not even his children were happy to see him.

William hummed, but didn't do anything else to acknowledge you. He looked at his son, sneering. “I'm surprised you’ve found someone that wants to put up with you.”

The fake smile on your face disappeared, your blood boiling as the man sitting opposite you started to eat his dinner as if he didn't just insult his child. What a piece of shit.

You could feel your heartbeat ringing in your ear, too scared to look at Jake. You didn't want to see the heart-broken look on his face. But once you had enough courage to face him, what you saw was even worse. Your Jake was gone, in his place was sitting a man drained of any emotion, his face blank, almost like he was detached from reality. Cold and distant.

It almost made you cry, with how much your heart ached.

You decided to reach out your hand, intertwining your pinkies. His finger twitched, making you think he would hold your hand, but he didn't make any move. He just sat there, staring ahead.

It was a defence mechanism he developed in his childhood. Act like you don't feel anything, make everyone else believe you don't feel anything and maybe one day, you can make yourself believe that it doesn't hurt.

Everyone continued to eat their dinner in silence, except for Jake. He couldn't eat, feeling like he was going to throw up any second. He could already picture it; once you got up to his room, you would tell him that this was too much for you. There was no way you could ever love someone like him. He was going to lose you.

You hoped the tension would die down eventually, but his father didn't share your sentiment.

"You would think that at thirty years old, you would at least have a higher rank. As my son, it's your duty to make your family proud. You need to be better." he grumbled bitterly, disdain coating his voice. "I didn't raise you all to be disappointments." Did this man hate his own children for him to talk to them like this?

You really tried to bite your tongue and keep it in, but you couldn't. Not when you heard how he talked to his own son. So you took a breath, trying to keep your voice steady, but to no avail. You were too angry for that. “Your son was one of the top 12 graduates from Top Gun. He has 2 confirmed kills.” you said through gritted teeth, your voice laced with venom. “He's an amazing pilot and an even better person.” You hoped Jake knew how much you meant that.

You stood up, trying to form a smile as you looked at his mom apologetically, before looking back at that poor excuse of a father. "If you will excuse me. I lost my appetite."

You needed to calm down, before you ruined anything even more. But you had more than enough things you still wanted to say.

As soon as you were out the door, Jake's fist clenched, nails digging into his palm, as he looked at his father with anger. "Can I be dismissed?"

He nodded, before making sure he knew he already formed an opinion about you. "You should teach your girlfriend some manners." Jake knew what that meant. He couldn't even keep his girlfriend in line? What kind of a man was he?

Jess joined the argument, having much less patience than her brother. She didn't try to keep her voice low like him, didn't try to hide the tears in her eyes. At least she learned how to handle her emotions, unlike him. "She's right and you know it. You should learn to appreciate your children before you end up all alone."

"Like there would be anything to miss." his father said, without any anger in his voice, which was felt even worse. It meant he has already given up on them.

Of course. One of his daughters had a child out of wedlock. His other daughter was dating a woman. And his only son wasn't man enough in his eyes.

Jake stood up from the table abruptly, knocking his glass over. His hand was shaking, jaw clenched as he tried to control himself, before he did something he would regret. Instead he tried to think about you, about what you've done for him. He looked at his sister, to make sure she was okay. She nodded for him to go, as she also stood up from the table, before he left.

The door to the room opened and you heard Jake’s footsteps coming closer and closer to you. Your back was turned to him, as you watched the snow that was falling.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice hushed.

Was he really asking you if you were okay? You sighed, turning to face him. “I’m sorry for that. I just couldn’t listen to him berate you.” You lasted exactly two minutes. Not too bad. Usually, you would have been much harsher if someone insulted the people you cared about.

“Come here.” he said, outstretching his hand. You hesitated for a second, before taking his hand and stepping closer towards him. Jake pulled you into his arms, your palm coming to rest on his chest to feel his steady heartbeat. His hand came to rest on the side of your face, thumb caressing your cheek softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Don’t think that even for a second.” he assured you.

“You stood up for me, that was…” He could never find the right words. But they weren't needed. You understood. You always did.

“Of course I stood up for you. He was talking bullshit. You’re great at what you do, Jake. You know that. Don’t second guess yourself.”

He smiled, kissing your forehead. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

No matter how dysfunctional his family was, you knew there was no place you would rather be than here with him. “Me too.”

As it turns out, his father barely stayed at the house. The marriage between Jake's parents had been crumbling for years, the love long gone.

The good thing was, after you and Jake calmed down, you could return to the living room knowing that his father would be gone.

You were ready to apologize to everyone as soon as you stepped in, but they didn't even acknowledge what happened at dinner.

Jessica looked up, Noah in her arms. "Look who woke up." She stood up, walking towards you two. "Wanna hold him?" She looked between you and Jake, waiting for you to decided who should hold him first.

You looked at Jake, nodding at him. "He's your nephew."

"And you're my girlfriend." Jake grinned, the word rolling off his tongue with ease. He loved the feeling in his chest whenever he called you that. He also loved the way you looked up at him with wide eyes, flustered. "You can hold him first."

You nodded. "Hi." You took the baby into your arms, sitting down on the couch with him. You booped his little nose, while he looked at you with wide eyes, mouth open as he let out little gurgling sounds. "You're so cute!" He grinned at you, as if he understood what you just said. You caressed his chubby little cheek with your finger, feeling content just sitting there with the little one.

Jake watched as you cradled little Noah in your arms, his little fingers wrapped around your finger. As if he needed another thing to add to the list of things that make him soft for you. He was whipped. He could hear Javy's voice in his head, the one that was always telling him to finally make a move. But what good would it do if you would kill him soon anyway? Because if you kept looking at him with those eyes, while grinning at him, his heart would eventually give out.

“You're in love.” Jessica teased, coming up from behind him suddenly.

“What?” he scoffed with an incredulous laugh. Was he really that transparent?

Who was he kidding? Of course he was.

Jess knew her brother. He never looked at anyone the way he was looking at you. But she also knew how hard it was for him to accept his feelings. He never knew how to handle them. She hoped he would realize he deserved to be loved, just like everyone else. And if there was one person that could make him realize that, it was you. You were strong and stubborn, keeping Jake in line. It was like you were made for each other.

She had half a mind to just let it go, knowing that Jake wouldn't admit it, but decided against it. There was no fooling anyone. “I've seen the heart eyes you've been giving her.”

“Well, she looks good with a kid on her arm.” That at least wasn't a lie.

Jess smirked, a knowing look in her eyes. “You just wish it was your kid, don’t you?”

Jake shook his head, but the smile on his face was enough to prove her right. “Maybe in a few years.”

Her smirk softened into a smile, as she patted his shoulder. “You would be a good dad.”

He looked at her, surprised. “You think so?”

“I know. You always took care of us. Of me, Kim, mom. You wouldn't be like him. I know that."

He didn't really think about fatherhood that much, but when he did, he thought about his own father. Jake's biggest fear was always that he would turn out to be like him. What if he became a coward like him? What if he couldn't love his child right? What if his kid grew up to hate him? Hearing those words coming from his sister meant more to him than she would know. “Thank you.”

She smiled at him, before nodding in your direction. “Go after your girl, she looks like she needs the help.” Jake looked at you, chuckling when he saw you trying to pry your hair out of Noah's hands.

"Need some help, baby?" Your heart almost burst out of your chest at the nickname, while Jake, oblivious to all that, reached out to help you untangle your hair from Noah's fingers.

"Thank you. You wouldn't believe the strength these babies have." Jake wrapped an arm around your waist, leaning into your side. "Here, hold him." You handed the little boy over to Jake and regretted it instantly.

Did seeing Jake with a baby make your hormones go crazy? Did it make you feel absolutely feral, because you wanted him to put his baby in you, while your heart also beat wildly because it was the most adorable thing you've ever seen? Yes, yes and yes.

You blamed his big, strong arms and the way he used that soft, baby-talk, while holding the little one so carefully, like he was scared he'd break any second. His protective nature always made you a little horny, but god, this was new. It was too much. If he continued on like this, they'd have to sedate you, before you started acting like a rabid dog.

Jake caught your eye, smiling at you. You hoped he didn't see the drool in the corner of your mouth.

You were thankful he didn't call you out on your obvious staring, instead, he just smiled at you. "Want to go for a walk?"

You nodded, as he passed his nephew over to his sister.

Jake took you out to walk around the streets, both of you admiring the beautiful Christmas decorations. He wanted to reach out and hold your hand, or wrap his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him, but he decided against it.

Instead he tried to take his mind off of how much he wanted to hold you and started a conversation. “So? Did you enjoy today?” Except for the part where you went toe to toe with his father, of course.

His soft smile got bigger as soon as he saw your contagious grin as you practically started skipping next to him. “Are you kidding me? Your nephew is the cutest baby I’ve ever seen.”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. “I bet we could make a cuter one.”

You swore your heart stopped for a second when you heard those words, but you tried to not let it show. You hoped to god it didn’t show. Instead you grinned again, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Wanna be a daddy, Seresin?”

He really had stop getting affected by you so easily, but hearing you say that word…let’s just say he wouldn’t mind hearing it a few more times, in a different situation. Not like talking about you having his baby wasn’t making him feel some type of way either.

He tried to clear his head of the dirty thoughts and get back to the conversation at hand, but with him thinking about you all pretty and round, while pregnant with his child, it was hard.

“Yeah, one day.” he smiled and you could feel the happiness radiating off him as he thought about it. “I always wanted to have kids, a big house, a happy family.” He looked at you for a second, then back at the ground. With you was left unsaid. “Something that I never had.”

You wrapped your arm around his, leaning your head on his shoulder, while continuing to walk. It wasn’t comfortable at all, but you were yearning to be close to him so bad, it didn’t matter.

Jake leaned his head on yours for a second, kissing the top of your hair.

“I’m just not sure if I could be a good parent though.” he sighed. “I didn’t really have the best example growing up.”

You shook your head, squeezing his arm to make him look at you. Both of you stopped walking, turning to fully face each other.

“You’d be amazing.” you reassured him with a smile. “I’ve seen you with Noah. You’re amazing with him.”

“Yeah, but having your own is different after all, isn’t it?”

You nodded. “It is. But I know you, Jake. You just have to let people in. Work past your issues. I feel like you talking to me about this so freely means you’re on a good path.”

He looked at you, not believing that a person like you really existed and chose to be friends with him. Every day you surprised him more and more, and he should’ve gotten used to it by now, but he still couldn’t help but feel surprised about how amazing you were. “You’re so incredible, you know that?”

“I try.” you giggled, the sweetest sound he ever heard. Was there anything he could ever find at least slightly irritating about you?

He pulled you closer to him, his cold fingers caressing your cheek. “You're way too good for them. They don't deserve you.” he said in the softest voice you’ve ever heard him talk in, and you saw the unshed tears glistening in his eyes. It made your heart thump wildly in your chest.

At first you were confused, before you understood who he meant. Your family. What did you do deserve someone like him in your life? You weren’t sure, but you were grateful nonetheless.

You smiled, biting your cheek to stop your lip from wobbling. “Let’s go back inside, I’m freezing.”

Jake nodded, turning around to walk back towards his house, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. He let out a breath, closing his eyes for a second to savour how good it felt to have you this close. “Want me to warm you up in our bed?”

You glared at him jokingly. “Stop pushing your luck.”

The words just kind of went over your head. You haven't really thought about what he meant. Which meant you didn't understood why he was acting so weird once he closed the door to his room behind you.

“So.” Jake started, looking awkwardly around the room, which was very out of character for him.

“So?” you looked at him confused.

He motioned to the bed and you realized why he was acting the way he was. Of course, there was only one bed. Of course, you were going to sleep in one bed, because you were dating. Not like you’ve never shared a bed with friends before. But you were never attracted to those friends.

“Are you cool with sharing?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck. He hoped to god you would be. This was the thing he’s been looking forward to the most. But if you didn’t want to, he’d respect your decision. It’s not like he’d ever do something you weren’t okay with.

You just chuckled, rolling your eyes playfully, trying to act like you weren't about to jump out of your skin. “If you can keep your hands to yourself.”

Jake sighed, looking you up and down. “Can’t promise anything when you look like that.”

You shook your head, turning away to hide your grin from him.

“Wanna take a shower first?” he asked, switching on the light in his en-suite bathroom, before he looked back at you with a smirk. “Or we can share.”

“I will go first. Thanks for the offer though.” You gathered everything you needed, before walking to the bathroom. As soon as the door closed, Jake let out a breath. The day turned out better than he expected. He had you here with him and that was all that mattered.

Minutes later, you walked out of the shower. Jake wanted to make a joke about how long you were inside and that you probably already used up all the hot water, but the words died on his tongue the second he looked up at you. He felt like a cold shower was exactly what he needed right now.

You, oblivious to what was going on inside his head, wrapped a towel around your head. “The shower’s all yours.”

Jake stood up, clearing his throat. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

He couldn't look away from you. The way his shirt (which you denied stealing from him after an impromptu sleepover at his place) barely covered your thighs, leaving your legs exposed. He could see your hard nipples through the material, and as you turned around to look for a pair of socks in his drawer, the shirt rid up enough to expose your black panties and your round ass. He had to bite his lip to not let out the groan threating to leave his mouth, as his hands itched to touch your soft skin.

He walked over to you just as you found the perfect pair of fluffy socks, but instead of heading to the bathroom like you thought, he paused in front of you. He reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. Your legs moved on their own accord, a little wobbly.

He wanted to kiss you, touch you, pull you on top of the bed and show you just how much he wanted you. Goosebumps rose upon your skin, as you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down. You could hear his heavy breathing, before he swallowed and let go of you. He looked you over one last time before leaving to the bathroom. You were tingling all over, confused, but really turned on.

How were you going to survive this week?

Once Jake got back, he saw you laying there in his bed, wearing his shirt, looking so cute and hot and his heart and dick both agreed that it was the best sight he's ever seen.

Meanwhile you were just about to lose your mind, seeing him only in his boxers and knowing that he would be sleeping like that next to you.

He laid down next to you, turning the light off. His arm was behind his head, as he laid on his back, while you were on your side, facing him.

You cuddled before. He could just shuffle closer to you, pull you into his chest. No big deal.

He turned suddenly, so he was also on his side, before putting his hand on your waist and pulling you closer to him. He could hear your steady heartbeat, as he ran his hand up your bare thigh and side. He inhaled sharply when he heard a small noise coming from you, before clenching his fist into the hem of your shirt.

Your hand was on his warm chest, his heartbeat steady under your palm. You had to fight the urge to ran your hand down his abs, as his soft breathing slowly lulled you to sleep.

The last thing you remember before falling asleep, was Jake pulling you flush against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

Waking up in Jake's arms for the very first time felt so good, you were questioning if you were really awake.

When you looked at him, you were mesmerized by how pretty he looked. You were looking at the way his eyelashes kept fluttering softly, when he suddenly spoke up, spooking you slightly.

“You're staring.” he said, his voice deep and hoarse, as he opened one eye to look at you.

Flustered, you looked away from him, rolling your eyes. “Can't help it.”

Jake grinned, pulling you closer to him to kiss the top of your head. He hummed, nose brushing along your jaw. "Good morning, beautiful.”

His good mood was contagious and there was no stopping the smile forming on your face. “Morning, handsome.”

“How did you sleep?”

You haven't slept that good in years. His body kept you warm all night, like your personal heater.

“Good, and you?”

Jake sighed, content. “I woke up with the most beautiful woman in my arms, so.”

You had to bury your face in his chest, hoping he wouldn't see how flustered he made you. “Shut up.” You pulled your face away, looking into his eyes when you felt how empty your stomach felt. "Breakfast?"

Jake thought about it for a second, before he caged you underneath him, careful not to put his whole body weight on you. "Or we could stay here, like this."

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him, caressing his back. "Until?"

"Forever."

"Forever sounds good." If only it was that easy. You smiled softly, kissing his cheek. You didn't even realize what you did, but Jake did. He was surprised you couldn't feel his heart beating out of his chest. "But I'm hungry."

He groaned, kissing the side of your neck where your face was buried, before standing up. It was your turn to get all worked up over how good his lips felt on your skin, even for that brief second.

"Stay here." he said, putting on some clothes, before running downstairs. He came back a few minutes later with a tray.

“Breakfast in bed?” you asked, sitting up.

Jake hummed, kissing the top of your head. “My girl deserves the best.”

You smiled, shaking your head, as you both ate, content to just sit with each other in silence. That was the best thing about your friendship with Jake. There was no awkwardness when neither of you talked, you just enjoyed each other's presence.

When you got downstairs, you were instantly ambushed by Jessica and Kim, who arrived in the morning.

Kim gasped, looking you over, before looking at her sister. "You were right, she's gorgeous."

You were looking between them, a little embarrassed, while Jake only stood there, proudly showing you off.

Kim noticed you standing there, playing with the sleeve of your hoodie, before she realized she hasn't even introduced herself. "Oh, I'm sorry, manners. I'm Kim. Welcome to the family." she said, pulling you into a hug, which made you laugh. "Hi, I'm Y/N. It's so good to finally meet you."

"You're telling me!" She pulled away, punching her brother in the shoulder. “Jake talks about you so much. We had a little bet going on about how long it will take him to ask you out.”

Jake talked about you to his family?

Jake froze for a second, his mind going blank. He told them not to bring those things up. "Can you not-"

Kim waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, hush. You're already dating, what does it matter."

“Mom told me about the dinner yesterday." She gave her brother a sad look, before looking at you with an appreciative smile. "What you did was very cool."

You felt Jake’s arm curl around your waist, as he rested his chin on your shoulder. "I just couldn't listen to the bullshit he was saying." You shrugged, like it was no big deal. You had no idea that it meant the world to Jake.

"Still. I'm sure Jake appreciates it." As if to show she was right, he squeezed your hip, before kissing the top of your head affectionately.

Jess cleared her throat, changing the topic. “Anyways, mom is already planning your wedding. Speaking of which, summer or winter wedding?”

You were taken aback, as you stuttered out a response. “I-I think fall?"

Jess cursed under her breath, turning to leave. “We will have to re-plan everything from the start.”

You looked at Jake with a raised eyebrow. “They're just kidding, right?”

He gave you a look, before taking your hand and leading you to the living room.

There were presents and wrapping papers scattered across the floor, as Jess and Kim sat next to the Christmas tree, wrapping the presents.

Jake pulled you into his lap, as Pamela sat down next to her daughters, to help them.

"You guys are so cute." Jess cooed, as Kim nodded. "I've never seen Jake so in love. I'm happy he found you."

Indeed, Jake was a very good actor. You almost believed him yourself. You smiled. "I'm happy I found him."

It felt so nice, so normal. Having you in his arms, as you laughed and chatted with his sisters and mother. For a second, he forgot it was all fake.

You turned to look at Jake, noticing how quiet he was. “Tired?”

He had a far-off look in his eyes, as if he wasn't present in the room at all. “Hm?” He rid himself of the thoughts swirling aimlessly in his head, before looking at you. “Oh no, just thinking.”

You hummed. “About?”

“Stuff.” he shrugged and you knew you wouldn't get anything else out of him right now.

“Fine, keep your secrets.” you teased.

“You two would have really cute kids.” Kim spoke up.

“I know, I said that too.” Jake grinned, thinking about it. You and him having children. You having his children. The thought always made his heart race. He felt you squeeze his hand, as you relaxed against his chest.

The hand that wasn't holding yours was laying on your ribcage, dangerously close to your belly. He wanted to put his hand on it, just for a second, to imagine what it would be like. The perfect life with you.

“Well, when am I gonna have another grandchild?”

Jess rolled her eyes. “Mom, leave them alone.”

Kim squealed, agreeing with her mother. “No, I need another nephew or a niece to spoil.” She looked at you two expectantly, waiting to know when you were planning to take your relationship a step farther.

You looked at Jake, raising an eyebrow jokingly. “Well, Jake?”

He scoffed. “Why are you looking at me? You will be the one that has to carry the little spawn for 9 months.”

“And you're the one that has to make the spawn.”

While you were having a little staring contest, his sisters already started talking about how they would spoil your child. Since the attention wasn't on you anymore, you found enough courage to lean closer and whisper into Jake's ear seductively. “Wanna go upstairs and practice, daddy?”

You felt his whole body tense, his fingers digging into your ribs. You looked at him innocently. “Did I say something wrong?”

Jake chuckled, but there was no humour to it. “You know exactly what you said.” he rasped, voice so low it sent chills down your spine. “You'll be the death of me.”

After David and Noah got back, you spent most of the time with Noah in your arms, which made Jake pout like a little kid. He just wanted to hold you and have you to himself for a few minutes.

All of you were having an amazing time, but the good mood only lasted so long.

His father arrived, making himself known by slamming the door so loud you were sure even the neighbours heard it.

You squeezed Jake's hand, hearing his shallow breathing in your ear.

His father walked into the living room, eyes searching the room, until he found Jake. "Son." He motioned for Jake to follow him and you reluctantly let him go. You watched as he walked out of the room with a worried expression and the way everyone else was acting didn't really help you calm down.

Jake closed the door to his father's study, not bothering to sit down. He knew his father wouldn't have anything nice to say to him.

"She's a pretty one. Mouthy but pretty." Jake's first clenched, as he gritted his teeth.

"Is that why you called me here?" He didn't want to ruin Christmas for his family, but if his father insulted you once, he couldn't be held accountable for whatever he'd do next.

"How long do you think this one's going to last? How long before she decides you're not worth it?" It felt like Jake's been stabbed in the heart, as his father brought up his greatest fears without any regards to how it would make him feel.

"She's not like that."

William shook his head. "You have so much potential. She's only going to slow you down. Kids, marriage, love. That won't make you happy."

Jake chuckled humourlessly, licking his dry lips. "Stop acting like you care about my happiness. You don't even know me."

"I know enough. You're my son. We're not good with emotions." Jake clenched his eyes shut, trying not to think about his father's words and how true they were. "She's going to leave and it's going to hurt. Better end it now before you can get too attached."

He didn't say anything, just stood there leaning against the door with his head hung low.

"Do you really think, that once she gets to know who you are inside, she's going to stay?"

Jake looked up, shaking his head. "You don't know Y/N. She's going to stay."

His father hummed, raising an eyebrow. "Is she?" He didn't even try to hide the disappointment he felt for his son. "She's going to find someone better. There's always someone better."

"You're just bitter because there's no one left in this world that cares about you. But I won't let you ruin this for me." Jake stormed out, angry. You stood up, reaching for his arm as he rushed out the back door, but he shook you off.

"He's going to the tree house." Kim said, giving you your coat. The words you wanted to say died in your throat, as you swallowed. I'm not sure he wants me to follow him.

As if Kim saw your inner struggle, she smiled. "Trust me, he needs you."

You put on your coat and boots, before following him. Behind their garden, there was a small forest filled with trees. You followed the path, noticing a big tree house in the distance.

Once you finally got there, you climbed up the ladder, finding Jake sitting on the old, worn-out carpet.

You sat down next to him, putting your hand on his shoulder. “Jake?”

He smiled, leaning into your touch without looking at you. “When I was younger, I always sneaked out past my bedtime to come out here.” He could still remember the stinging sensation his father's palm left behind after he came hoke covered in mud and rain one time. He climbed down the stairs quietly, in his pyjamas and slippers, before running out of the house, only a small flashlight to in his hand. He wasn't scared of the dark or the animals that were lurking there. He knew who the real monster was. “It was always so peaceful and calm. I didn’t have to listen to my parents fight, or my sisters cry in the other room.” His voice broke a little, as a tear fell from his eye. “This was my safe place.” He smiled, before it turned into a grimace as the tears kept coming. He finally turned to look at you apologetically. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’m so sorry for all of this.”

You shook your head furiously. “Hey, none of that.” You reached out, brushing his tears away. “I want you to know that whatever he said was a fucking lie, okay?”

He looked anywhere but at you, trying to pull his face away, but you didn't let him. “No, Jake, look at me.” you begged quietly. “Please, look at me.”

It was hearing your voice break that made him finally look at you. You smiled, caressing his face. “You’re amazing. You’re so brave and courageous and kind when you want to be.” Both of you laughed at the last part, knowing it was true. “I don’t regret coming here, because the thought of you having to go through this alone scares me more than whatever your father can do or say. You achieved so much and everyone else is so proud of you. Don’t let him ruin you.”

You pulled him into a hug, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you could. “He’s not going to scare me away from you.” you added, hearing the pained whimper escape from his throat as he buried his face into your neck. “I’m so glad I met you.” he whispered against your skin softly, as you smiled, thinking back to the first time you met.

When you got back, after everyone made sure Jake was okay, he pulled you away from them. "I'm going for a run to clear my head. Will you be okay here?"

You nodded. "Yeah, go. Just be careful, the roads are slippery. It was freezing all night." He always got butterflies when you acted so protective and caring. It was just one of the reasons he fell in love with you. He wanted to pull you in and kiss you breathless, right under that fucking mistletoe you were standing under, obliviously. Instead he nodded, giving you a tense smile. "I will be."

While your boyfriend went for a run, you decided to help his sisters bake some cookies. Somehow it evolved into you sharing embarrassing stories about each other, but mostly about Jake.

When Jake got back, he found you all laughing in the kitchen, an album with his baby photos open in front of you. He groaned, ready to tell everyone off for breaking their promise, but then you looked at him, your eyes twinkling and your smile so big it was hurting your cheeks. You walked up to him, kissing his cheek. "Did you have a good run?"

He nodded dumbly. "Yeah."

You grinned. "Good. Go shower real quick and get ready. We're going to the Christmas market." He shook his head with a smile, but did as he was told.

You decided to facetime with Nat and Bradley while Jake showered. You didn’t really have time to keep them updated, which was probably for the better given the last 12 messages you had that were all asking if you have already banged.

But right now you needed to get some things off your chest.

“So, how are things?” Nat asked.

“Tense.”

“Between you and Jake, or his family?” You wanted to tell them about the previous night, the way Jake looked at you and how he acted, but ultimately decided against it.

“Between me and his dad, between him and his dad.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair frustratedly.

“But the rest of the family loves me.”

Bradley scoffed. “Of course they do, who wouldn’t.” But that wasn't why they've been dying to talk to you. He bet Natasha another 20$ that you would be the one to make the first move, while Nat's convinced it's going to be Jake. Both of you are stubborn as hell, so it can be either, really. “What about you and Jake? Come on. Don’t leave us hanging. That’s your boyfriend’s job.”

You ignored the fact that he called him your boyfriend, because in the last two days you got so used to calling Jake that, you barely even noticed it anymore. Before you could decide where to start, the words were spilling out of your mouth. “He told me we would have cute kids.”

Nat punched Bradley in the shoulder, telling him she was closer to getting her 40$ than before. “Jake wants kids? Jake wants kids with you?”

“I’m sure he was joking.”

“Come on, stop doing that."

Just as you were about to answer, the door to the bathroom opened, Jake walking out in just a towel wrapped really low around his hips. You couldn't pull your eyes away from his Adonis' belt, as you imagined just trailing that V shape with your finger. Or mouth. You moved your eyes up, over his very nicely shaped body, over his six-pack and his pecs and that definitely wasn't the outline of his cock under the white towel, right?!

“You okay?” Nat asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah, just uh-” Everything was fine. Your brain just stopped working, because it got overheated.

Bradley knew who you were looking at like that. You were going to kill him for this but it would be worth it. "Is that drool?" he yelled out, making you screech as Jake laughed in the background.

"Fuck off!" you said through gritted teeth, before ending the call. You were mortified, unable to look Jake in the eyes. Instead, you were already drafting the message you were going to send to your best friend for being a dickhead. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping you would just die on the spot, so Jake wouldn't get to tease you about this.

You opened your eyes, rather reluctantly, when you felt his hand on your chin, as you met his green eyes. Your eyes strayed, again, but it's not like he could blame you for that. The towel was like, really, really low. Like, you were scared it would fall off low.

“See something you like, sweets?” Jake teased, his face so close to you you could feel his hot breath on your face. You gulped, nodding. “You know I do.”

Jake's smile widened, his face leaning closer-

"We're leaving in five minutes!" Kim shouted, before you heard her footsteps disappear as she ran down the stairs.

Jake swallowed, nodding his head with a small smile, before he picked out some clothes and went back to the bathroom to get dressed.

You just kept sitting on the bed, wondering what would have happened if Kim didn't interrupt you. Was he really about to kiss you?

You couldn't get that thought out of your head even as Jake pulled you through the crowd of people an hour later. His hand was holding yours in a tight grip, as you walked next to him. You got separated from his family halfway through, almost as if Jake did it on purpose. Which he did. He wanted to spend some time with you alone, without anyone else.

“Jake?” You were both admiring the lights, when you heard a feminine voice somewhere from behind you, making both of your head's turn. You found a pretty blonde looking at your boyfriend, an unfamiliar feeling in your chest. You should've expected to run into a few of his exes or one-night stands. Why was it even bothering you?

“Stacy?” Jake asked, almost like he didn't believe the luck he had to meet her here. You had to ignore the urge to roll your eyes, as Stacy ignored your presence. Maybe she was too busy ogling Jake and didn't even notice you were there. Who could blame her.

“Hi. Oh my god, it’s been so long since the last time I saw you. How have you been?”

You could feel the jealousy running through your veins like lava, setting everything on fire, when you heard him chuckle. “Great, great actually. I just came home for the holidays with my girlfriend.”

It was over as soon as he looked at you with that heart-stopping, panty-dropping smile, as he wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you into his side. You guessed that Stacy and him didn't end on good terms, otherwise why would he keep up the charade when his family wasn't near?

You saw her smile drop when she saw you, turning into a bitter grimace, which made you smile. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“Yeah, I’m so happy she finally got to meet my mom and my sisters.”

“Have you been dating long?” She wasn't giving up. Damn. How desperate can one person be to try and get with someone's boyfriend in front of them? You eyed her, hoping she caught the judgy stare you gave her.

“Few months. Definitely not long enough for me to say that I’m looking forward to spending forever with her, but…” Jake spending forever with you? That almost got a laugh out of you. You needed to admit though, he was a good actor.

“I’m so happy for you.” she said in a high-pitched voice, something you both knew was overly-affectionate and fake. Her face screamed something entirely different. “I have to go now. But hopefully we will see each other again soon.” Hopefully not. She kept her eyes on Jake the entire time, as if waiting for a response. But she didn't get any. It did make you feel a little smug. You leaned into Jake's side, smiling into his coat.

When she realized Jake wasn't going to say anything, she looked at you. “It was nice meeting you…” she trailed off, realizing she didn't know your name. “Y/N." you introduced yourself with a grin. "Likewise.” Not.

She said her goodbye, before leaving.

You looked up at Jake. “Ex?”

“Something like that.”

You nodded, looking away from him, a bitter feeling taking over as you thought about her. You were envious of whatever they had together.

“You okay?” Jake asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Mhm.” Oh yeah, just peachy.

He was looking at you with an unreadable expression, a smile on his face. He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “Let’s go, we still have to buy the best gingerbread cookies you’ll ever eat.”

“The best? You’re setting the bar a bit too high, don’t you think?” you teased.

“Trust me on this. You’re going to love it.”

And he was right. They were the best gingerbread cookies you ever had. He also bought you hot chocolate with little marshmallows in it.

You moaned as you took a sip of the drink, savouring the sweet, chocolatey taste, while it warmed you from the inside. "This is the best hot chocolate I've ever had."

“Can I get a taste?” Jake asked innocently.

You stopped walking, handing him the drink. “Here.”

Instead of taking it, he pulled you closer with an arm on your waist, not giving you any time to panic before his lips were on yours. He sucked on your bottom lip, before you felt the tip of his tongue asking for access to your mouth. You almost dropped the cup when his tongue met yours, the moan he let out starting a Niagara Falls in your panties.

He pulled away not long after, giving you one last dizzying kiss. “You’re right.” he said breathless, staring into your wide eyes. “Taste’s amazing."

Were you just supposed to go about your day as usual after that? Because it was definitely affecting you more than it was affecting Jake.

So the first thing you did once you were back at their house was locking yourself in the bathroom to call Natasha. To no one's surprise, Bradley was there with her.

"He kissed me!" you said as soon as she picked up, not giving her the chance to even say hello.

"What?" she exclaimed. "Tell me everything."

What was there to tell, really? That was pretty much the whole story. "He just...kissed me. And now he's acting like nothing happened. It was probably part of Jake Seresin's fake-girlfriend premium package." you groaned frustrated.

Bradley, the voice of reason, spoke up. "Just talk to him about it." And if you were braver, you would have agreed because you knew it was the easiest way to find out if Jake felt the same way. But you weren't so talking to him wasn't an option.

"I don't want to ruin our friendship over a meaningless kiss."

Bradley sighed, fed up with you two dancing around each other, but understood. "Jake's head over heels for you. I'm sure he's going to bring it up later."

"I hope so." you said with a sigh, as you listened to Nat and Bradley while they told you everything that happened in the last few days that you missed.

But neither of you actually brought up the kiss. Jake acted as if nothing happened and you were doubting yourself too much to ask him what was that about. You were scared he would dismiss it, find out that it didn't mean to him nearly as much as it meant to you.

But the tension could have been cut with a knife. It was unbearable. And everyone noticed.

"Are you two okay?" Jess asked, once she caught you alone.

Were you okay? You weren't sure anymore. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

"Both you and Jake have been acting a little weird ever since we got back." You felt like you were backed into a corner.

"No, it's-" It wasn't okay. You sighed. "It's going to be okay. This has just been a bit much for the both of us." you smiled, trying to make yourself believe your own words.

She bought it though, nodding with a small smile. "Yeah, I get that." Before she left the room, she looked at you one last time. "Don't let him push you away."

"I won't." you promised.

But it was hard when Jake refused to meet your eyes. When he left the room as soon as you stepped inside. How he spent way longer in the bathroom than you knew was necessary, just so he didn't have to talk to you.

"Jake." you called out his name as soon as he walked back into the room, but before you could say anything, the words you dreaded were coming out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry." he sighed, not even looking at you as he pulled back the covers and laid down on the bed. "About that kiss." he clarified, like you didn't know what he was sorry for. Was that all it was? An action he regretted doing? As a final stab, he answered your silent question. "I shouldn't have done that."

So you were right. It really meant more to you than it meant to him. You nodded. "It's fine. We talked about the boundaries, so it's-" You took in a sharp breath, your eyes tearing up. "fine."

You laid on the bed as far away from him as possible, turning your back to him. Jake's heart clenched in his chest. He wanted to reach out and pull you into him, but he couldn't. He tried to ignore the way you trembled as you tried to hold back your sobs. He tried to pretend he didn't hear the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. Tried to make himself believe he didn't want to wipe your tears away and comfort you.

No weaknesses. No weaknesses. No weaknesses.

Maybe his father was right. Still, he didn't regret a single second of loving you.

He stayed up for a long time, long after you fell asleep, just watching you in silence. And if a few stray tears fell, wetting his shirt, no one needed to know that.

But what else was he supposed to do after what he overheard? You found the kiss meaningless and didn't want to ruin your friendship over it. He would make sure it wouldn't get ruined.

When Jake woke up the next morning, your side of the bed was already empty. For a second he panicked, running to the closet to look if your stuff was still there. He let out a sigh, when he saw that dumb Christmas sweater he bought you last year, before putting on his sweats and running downstairs. He found you sitting in the kitchen, alone.

You looked up at the sound of his footsteps, startled. "They went shopping for some last minute Christmas stuff." you explained, when you saw his confused look.

Jake nodded, trying to ignore the palpable awkwardness in the room.

"I made you breakfast." you said, voice so quiet, like you didn't want to be heard.

"Thank you." You nodded, standing up to leave. Jake's hand reached out for you, pulling you back.

Just tell her you're sorry. Tell her the truth. Tell her you love her.

But Jake was a coward. He didn't say any of those things.

"Want to help me devour those gingerbread cookies?" A quiet peace offering. It wasn't much, but it was a start. You nodded with a small smile, as he put the plate on the kitchen counter, both of you eating in silence. Until your phone pinged, the screen lighting up to show a new text message. Before you could reach out and take it, Jake was already smirking, having read it. "Natasha wants to know if you brought that lingerie and if you put it to good use?" He looked at you, raising an eyebrow.

Oh.

You were going to kill her.

You jumped, reaching for your phone, but Jake put his hand behind his back. "Give it back."

"No, no, no. What lingerie and why haven't I seen it yet?" You were back to joking and teasing each other, that was a good sign at least.

"Jake, give me my phone." you groaned, knowing that there was no way you were getting it form him. "She was just teasing me, that's all. I didn't bring any lingerie."

He hummed, eyes trailing over your body. "What a shame." His voice was low, sending chills all over your body.

You and Jake were now chest to chest, as you tried to reach for your phone, your hand landing on his lower back. “Hey, don’t get handsy now.” he scolded you jokingly, making you roll your eyes. “I’m pretty sure it was you that said no inappropriate touching.”

“Shut up.” you grumbled, taking a step back.

“In the kitchen, none the less.” He shook his head. “And to think I thought you were oh so innocent.”

You scoffed. “Just because I don’t do one night stands doesn’t mean I'm innocent.”

Jake smirked, straightening out. “Prove it.” he challenged, knowing you wouldn’t back down.

You were taken aback for a second, your heart pounding in your chest, before you nodded. “Fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

Jake wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to him. You gulped, hands shaking slightly as you put them on the side of his neck, before leaning up. You had to stand on your tiptoes, about to grumble about how Jake wasn't making this easier for you, when he leant down, connecting your lips. It wasn't soft, like the one in the Christmas market. It wasn't slow. No. This was passionate and hungry, rough, teeth clashing and tongues caressing each other. Jake kissed you exactly the way you dreamed about being kissed by him.

You inhaled his scent, your lungs filling up with his cologne, as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling on the strands. This earned a groan from him, his fingers digging into your hips so hard they were about to leave bruises. His hands explored your body, trailing up and down your back, before settling on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh.

You whimpered into his mouth, hands trailing down his pecs, playing with the chain of his dog tags. Jake pulled away suddenly, looking into your eyes intensely.

"What I said yesterday..." Oh. Here it comes again. You shut your eyes, trying to block everything out as you prepared for the blow from his next words. But it never came.

Jake held your face so gently in his palms, knowing that this might be the last time he has the chance to have you this close. "It's not that I didn't want to kiss you, I did. So badly." He took in a shallow breath, swallowing the lump in his throat. "But I heard what you said and I don't want to ruin our friendship either. If you don't want me, I will deal with that, but I can't lose you."

Your eyes opened, widening as you thought back to the conversation you had with Natasha and Rooster. Of course the idiot only listened to the worst part and misunderstood it.

You shook your head, clutching at his shirt, scared he was going to walk away from you and disappear any second. "You won't lose me. I thought the kiss was meaningless for you." You put your hands on the side of his neck, pulling him down so you were on eye-level with each other. "I wanted that kiss. And I want you to kiss me again."

And Jake did so without a second thought.

You were so occupied you didn't hear the front door opening, nor his family walk in.

“Oh, are we interrupting?” Jess asked, as you pulled away from each other, embarrassed at being caught making out as teenagers.

You could feel your body flush with warmth, scrambling to say something. You just kept opening and closing your mouth, stuttering, before getting out something that finally resembled a sentence. “No, I'm sorry.”

Were you sorry? Because if they haven't interrupted, you're pretty sure you would have ended up pressed up against the kitchen counter and you wouldn't be exactly opposed to that. Still, you were sorry for being caught, sorry that they had to see you like that.

You looked at Jake, trying to see if he looked at least half as embarrassed as you, but you found him looking down at you, with a look in his eyes you couldn't really describe. It was soft and loving, and for a second you thought that maybe you should've listened to Natasha sooner.

His mom waved her hand dismissively. She was young and in love once upon a time too. “Don’t apologize, darlin.”

Jess nodded, amused. “Yeah, I mean Noah was conceived on the couch here so.”

That got Jake's attention, making him look at her horrified. “Ew, what?”

“Hey, don’t act like you weren’t groping her ass when we walked in.”

You hid your face in his shoulder. “Oh my god.”

Kim shook her head with a smile. “Still wanna help with dinner, or would you rather make out with my brother?”

You pulled away from Jake, avoiding his eyes. “I will help with dinner.”

Jake on the other hand couldn't keep his eyes off of you. If Javy was there, he would tease him for that look he had on his face. He was smitten, whipped and he couldn't even try to deny it anymore.

You felt him stare at you, as you looked up to find him smiling at you. You tried to hide your own smile, but it was hard when he didn't even try to make his staring subtle.

Jake couldn't take the tension anymore. The way you were looking at him from across the room while biting your lip was driving him insane.

You were only half listening to what Kim was saying to you, especially when you felt Jake's presence next to you.

You caught his eye, raising an eyebrow. He caught your wrist, pulling you out of the kitchen and up the stairs. "Jake. Your family-"

"Trust me, this is better than them having to watch us eye-fuck each other across the room." he said, closing the door behind him.

He pushed you against the closed door, eyes gazing into yours with a hunger you never saw in them before. He was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling rapidly, as his hands gripped your clothes. He wanted to tear them off you, but not before he could make sure that you knew what you were getting into. Because he was in it for the long run, and he hoped to God that you were too. So he licked his lips, putting his hand on your face to lean your head up. "Do you want this?"

The tip of his thumb was caressing your bottom lip, making your lips part. You nodded your head, not trusting your voice. But Jake shook his head, not moving an inch from that position. "I need to hear you say it." His tone was desperate, pleading. "I need to know that you want me." He leaned his forehead on yours, not breaking eye contact.

In that moment you saw the person Jake was trying so hard to hide. The scared, insecure man, that wanted to be loved so badly, but was terrified he wasn't good enough to be loved. You saw him now; all of him. The good and the bad parts equally and you loved all of them.

"I want you, Jake." Your voice was just as breathy, just as desperate. And all it took was one kiss and the promise of something more to come.

Jake let out a disbelieving huff at hearing your words. "I want you too, baby." The second his parted lips touched yours, you were opening your mouth for him. Jake walked you blindly over to his bed, your hands pushing on his shoulders until he sat down on the edge. You pulled away from him to take off your shirt, as Jake looked at you in awe. You climbed on his lap, connecting your lips again, as he trailed his hand down your body, touching you everywhere he could.

As good as your ass looked in the leggings you had on, he wanted them gone to get more access to the one place he desperately wanted to touch right now. Jake turned, pressing your back against the mattress, his fingers gripping the band of your leggings and pulling them off. He threw them somewhere carelessly, not pulling away from your lips for a second.

He felt like he needed your lips on his to keep living. He needed you to breathe, like you were his oxygen.

And in a way, maybe you were.

You let out a breathy moan when you felt his hand sneak into your panties, as he found your clit with ease. "Jake."

He loved the way you sounded saying his name, while he pleasured you. He buried his face in your neck, revelling in the small sounds you were making as he played with you.

"Need your fingers." you whimpered, tangling your fingers in his hair. Jake let out a shaky breath, nodding. His minds still hasn't fully caught up with what was happening. Like it was just one of his dirty, wet dreams that would end with him waking up painfully hard.

But your hands on his body reassured him this was all happening. It felt too real, too good to be a dream. There was no way his unconscious mind could come up with this.

He helped you take off your bra, before pulling your panties down your legs. You climbed up the bed to lay on the pillows, Jake going after you with a predatory look in his eyes that made you shiver.

Once he was face to face with you, as he caged you under him with his arms on either side of your head, he started kissing your neck, biting, before soothing the soft skin with his tongue.

Your hands were gripping his dog tags and the shirt he still had on. As you started pulling it up, he broke away to pull it over his head, before getting back to work. He kissed down your chest, licking and sucking on your hardened nipples, his big hands palming your breasts.

You never really felt anything when guys did that, but you were convinced you could've cum just from watching Jake's tongue tease your nipple. It felt overwhelming.

He kissed down your sternum and stomach, until he was face to face with the part of your body you really wanted him to lick. You whimpered as his hot breath hit your wet pussy, while he put one of your legs over his shoulder to get better access. You were writhing on the bed, silently begging him to do something.

Jake was too mesmerized to notice just how much you needed him. His fingers slowly spread your wetness, as he pushed a finger inside you. He watched as his finger disappeared until only his knuckles were visible, before pulling it out. It was slow, he wanted to explore your body, before giving you what you wanted so badly. His pace was steady. In and out. In and out. Then he curled his finger up, hitting your sweet spot. You thought you were going to lose your mind, a conviction which only got stronger once you felt his tongue on your clit.

"Jake." you moaned his name, sounding so sweet for him. He added a second finger, picking up his pace. He was watching your face contort in pleasure, your hands gripping the sheets as you tried to silence your moans.

"You're taking my fingers so well, pretty girl. Let's see if you can take three." He looked in awe as your pussy swallowed his fingers up, the other hand coming to hold your hips down so you wouldn't move around that much. "Looks so pretty. You're gonna look so good full of me."

You could feel your wetness gush out of you every time he pulled his fingers out, before thrusting them back again.

He pulled out his fingers, replacing them with his tongue. His hands were on your thighs, nails digging into your skin as he lapped up your sweet juices.

"Jake. Please." you begged, needing more. When he didn't as much as look at you, you thought about the reaction you got for him to another word, and decided to play dirty. "Daddy." you moaned.

Jake groaned against you, eyes catching yours, before he pulled away. "That's so hot." He wiped his chin with his hand, gaze darkening. "Say that again."

"Please, daddy." you begged, breathing heavily. "Fuck me."

Jake smirked darkly, unbuttoning his jeans. You sat up, pulling down the zipper, before he finally took them off. You could see the prominent bulge in his black briefs, your hand reaching out to palm him through the thin material. He threw his head back in pleasure as you dipped your hand into his boxers, swirling your thumb on the head of his cock.

"Sweets." he warned in a low voice, knowing you were teasing him on purpose. You bit your bottom lip, grinning, as you pulled down the final piece of clothing, revealing the leaking tip. He saw the way you licked your lips, groaning, before he pushed you to lay down on the bed. "Want that mouth next time. But I need to be inside you now."

"Want to practice now, sweetheart?" he asked, voice raspy, bringing up the conversation you had a few days ago. You moaned, nodding your head furiously.

Jake let out a whimper as he swiped the head of his cock through your folds, getting his cock nice and wet. "Yeah? Want me to put a baby in you?"

You whimpered, tears threatening to spill from your eyes because of how badly you wanted this man. "Yes, please."

"Beg for me, sweetheart. Beg for my cock."

"Please, please fuck me, Jake. I need your cock."

He finally pushed the head in, putting his hands on either side of your head to hold himself up, as his lips found yours again. You whimpered from the slight pain, as Jake slowly pushed his whole length in, bottoming out. He gave you a few minutes to adjust to his size, before he started moving.

He couldn't believe he was finally inside you. You were naked, moaning and writhing underneath him.

He set up a steady pace, thrusting his hips so roughly, your moans were now a constant noise in the room. That, and the wet, squelching noises your pussy made, along with the slapping sounds of skin on skin.

You wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing his mouth to yours in a heated kiss. His dog tags were cooling your warm skin, and the sight of the metal with his name engraved on it laying between your tits as they bounced with every move, brought out something possessive from somewhere very deep inside him. He growled, a deep, low sound, that made your walls clench around him.

"I love you." His mouth was moving, the words coming out without him having any say in it. That didn't mean he meant them any less. Your breath got caught in your throat, your eyes watering at his confession. He buried his face in your neck, moaning when you clenched around him again. "I love you so much, baby. You're so perfect for me."

Your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest from the happiness you felt, your hand going to the back of his neck to make him look at you. You could see the slight insecurity in his eyes, as if he was scared you would tell him you didn't feel the same. Like that was even a possibility. "I love you, Jake."

He whined, kissing you, pouring all of his emotions into it.

"You're close, baby, aren't you?" he asked, feeling your walls flutter around him. You nodded your head with a hum. His hand trailed down your body, his fingers playing with your clit.

"Come for me, sweetheart." he whispered into your ear, grunting when you dug your nails into his shoulders. "Cum so that I can fill you up."

"Jake." Your walls squeezed around Jake, as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. You've never cum so hard before, your vision going black as you let out a loud moan.

Jake groaned into your neck, thrusts becoming erratic and unsteady. "Fuck, baby."

"Cum inside me. Please." you whined. Jake thrusted into you a few more times, before you felt his hot cum fill you up, his hips stilling.

Once you both came down from your highs, he pulled out of you, making you whine at the emptiness you felt. He laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest.

"That was..." Jake started, not finding the right words to describe just how good it was.

But you understood. You nodded your head, letting out a small laugh. "Yeah."

Jake never thought that the holidays would end with him dating the girl of his dreams, but life always throws a few surprises your way. A real Christmas miracle.

To make everything even better, his mom decided to ask for divorce. The relationship was dead anyway, and if that meant the holidays would be peaceful from now on, it was worth it.

“I like her.” Pamela told her son, as you were both saying goodbye to his family, ready to go back home.

Jake smiled, looking at you affectionately. “Yeah, me too.”

"Don't let her go."

He chuckled, as you walked back towards him, leaning into his side. "There's nothing that could make me do that. She's stuck with me." he joked, kissing you.

“Come here." His mom teared up, bringing you into a hug. "Thank you for making my son happy.” she said sincerely.

“Thank you for raising such an amazing son.”

You were meeting at Bradley's place to celebrate Christmas together and exchange some gifts with the rest of the squad. Neither of you talked to your friends about what happened yet and you knew Nat and Rooster were both waiting to ambush you as soon as you stepped through the door. Just like Javy, who's been pestering Jake ever since you two got back. Every head turned to the front door, as you and Jake walked in, laughing.

Jake stepped under the doorway, pulling you into him with a grin. You raised an eyebrow questioningly, as he looked up innocently. You followed his line of sight, noticing the green plant, tied with a red ribbon. "Oh look. A mistletoe."

You smiled, rolling your eyes at his antics. Still, you leaned closer. "I guess, it's tradition." Jake grinned wider, pulling you in for a slow kiss. Your friends whistled, not one bit shocked that this was happening. Once you pulled away, he smiled at you lovingly, before intertwining your fingers with his.

Rooster and Natasha ran towards you first, looking between the two of you.

"You owe Natasha 40 dollars." you told Rooster with a grin, earning a laugh from Nat as she pocketed the money.

Javy patted his best friend on the back, before giving you a hug. "I'm glad you two finally got your shit together, because this was becoming a little tiring."

Both you and Jake laughed bashfully, as he pulled you into his side, arms wrapping around your waist. He kissed your temple, finding your eyes. “This Christmas might’ve been a disaster, but I’m glad I could go through this with you.”

“I’m glad I could be there.” You smiled, squeezing his hip. “I forgot what it’s like to be a part of a family.”

Jake smiled softly. “You will always have a family while I’m alive. I mean, my mom already calls you her daughter-in-law.”

You grinned. “Can’t disappoint Pam, now can we?”

“Definitely not.” he agreed, pecking your lips.

Taglist: @shawnsblue @imahoeforchrisevans @eddiemunsonownsme

Tags :

jake seresin jake seresin x reader hangman x reader jake hangman seresin x reader top gun maverick top gun x reader

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lovesleclercs

2 years ago

Angel by the Wing - SEVEN

Chapter Warnings: drunk idiot at the bar grabs the reader once but that’s it, mentions of domestic abuse

A/N: I have two more finals to go and they’re both essays. It’s the end of the semester/seasonal/clinical sad girl hours. This fic is consuming my brain. I will get to other requests soon but for now, enjoy our three sluts.

Series Masterlist

“Polynomials suck,” Amelia Benjamin declared as she slapped down her pencil on the counter. You chuckled at her declaration and pushed a bottle of Coke towards her. You were counting inventory at the bar while Penny and Gary worked in the back organizing the kitchen.

“When am I ever going to use this stuff?!” she moaned and buried her head in her hands. Rolling your eyes at her melodramatic display, you patted her hand and then ruffled her hair.

“If it makes you feel any better, I had to learn that stuff too. And look, I never use it.”

She let out a triumphant battle cry and dove back into her work, leaving you to grab the two chipped glasses you found. You pushed your way into the kitchen and deposited them in a trash can before leaning up against the counter next to where a very flustered, very stressed Chelsea stood staring at a mixology cheat sheet.

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Tags :

bradley bradshaw x reader x jake seresin jake seresin x reader hangman x reader rooster x reader bradley bradshaw x reader bradley rooster bradshaw x reader jake hangman seresin x reader top gun maverick top gun x reader

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lovesleclercs

2 years ago

Seeing Red | Masterlist

According to the Red Queen hypothesis, a species needs to evolve and adapt in order to survive because its competitors are doing the same.

Or how a young woman who wanted to be a lawyer ended up being a well-known naval aviator, hiding a big secret.

Please note that half of these 'texts' were written as sneak peeks of future events that are subject to changes in case the writer decides to explore a different path or idea. Thank you.

Chapters

Conversations from the past: Red - Jake

Conversations from the past: Red - Javy

Ch. 0.5: Off with his head

Dagger babes - 1 - 2

Jake - Red

Ch. 1: A war between us

Ch. 2: Used to it / Dagger babes - 3

Little Mitchells

Liam's Protection Squad

Jake - Red

Red - Jake

Tags :

top gun maverick top gun x reader jake hangman x reader jake seresin x reader hangman x reader jake hangman seresin x reader jake seresin hangman jake hangman seresin

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lovesleclercs

2 years ago

I Want My MTV 🎤 | Jake Seresin Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Jake Seresin x popstar!reader (romantic), dagger squad x reader (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, implied suggestive content if you squint | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 8.6k

Premise: glitter and writing love songs are her favorite things in the world…..and also music that gets people dancing and wishing they were a fictional character in a fan edit. When she meets Lt. Jake Seresin, he becomes not only the light of her life but also the source of her inspiration because every love song has to have a muse. And for international popstar Y/n L/n, the man they call Hangman is the muse that keeps her going.

Requested 📨 yes/no (by the lovely @avaleineandafryingpan w/ some suggestions from @gizmodear on this post)

Note: I’m so sorry this took a bit (forgive me, school has been crazy) but I really really enjoyed writing this and i hope its everything you imagined @avaleineandafryingpan 🥹♥️ I made sure to add all the little hc’s you sent in & added some things of my own I thought would be great so I hope you don’t mind! Please let me know what you think!

Songs headcanoned by popstar!reader: ‘34+35’, ‘Love Me Harder,’ ‘Break Free,’ & ‘Imagine,’ by Ariana Grande + ‘Rain On Me’ w/ Lady Gaga. ‘Summertime Sadness,’ ‘ Young & Beautiful,’ ‘Norman Fucking Rockwell,’ ‘Video Games,’ & ‘Love Song,’ by Lana Del Rey. ‘Last Friday Night,’ ‘Teenage Dream,’ & ‘Firework,’ by Katy Perry. ‘Power,’ ‘Secret Love Song,’ ‘ Between Us,’ & ‘Salute’ by Little Mix

———————————————

August 2026

“Deep breathes, darlin’,” his hands were smooth against her shoulders, instantly calming her nerves. Y/n took a deep inhale, nodding as she slowly let the air leave her lips. Jake beamed at her, “This ain’t the first time you’ve been on stage. You got this.”

“I know, but performing on live television for millions of people is different than a few thousand in a venue,” she reminded him, feeling the anxiety return causing her to close her eyes. “It’s been six years since my last VMA performance, Jake. Also,” she nervously laughs, “This is the Vanguard award they’re giving me—I’m, quite literally, shitting my pants. I want this to be amazing.” To be fair the reason for her not being invited back to the VMAs was a mini break from music she went on after they got married in 2021. The birth of their children was another factor so it wasn’t until late 2025 that Y/n had released the music she’d been working on.

The break was much needed, but she was missing the stage, the touring, the fans. It was what kept her going and made her career worth it. Music was her life, but so was her family which is why she took so long to release an album. Now here she was years later about to step foot on the VMA stage for the first time in six years. Another thing that made it worthwhile was she was being honored with the MTV Video Vanguard Award. Leading up news outlets were covering her return and on the red carpet reporters were eager to know what Y/n was cooking up.

“And it will be,” he told her, cupping her face in his hands, careful not to mess up the gemstones and glitter around her eyes. She could feel the cool metal of his wedding band against her skin. “You are one of the best vocalists of our generation—the High Note Princess. One of the best stage performers of all time—it’s gonna be an amazing show. You’ve been working so hard for months,” he gives a comforting squeeze to her shoulders. “So just breathe with me and then you’ll go out there and sing your pretty little heart out. And it’s gonna be the best performance of the night.”

As she mentally prepared while waiting for the stage manager, Y/n leaned more into Jake’s arms and let her mind wander. Memories started to appear, reeling back to when her career kicked off all the way to when she met her husband and finally to the present day.

February 2008

Like any aspiring star, Y/n L/n made the rash decision to quit college and move to Los Angeles in hopes of achieving her goal of becoming a singer. Hollywood was calling her name, so she spent months applying to jobs in the area before finding a small studio apartment and packed up her little Honda and set sail for the city where dreams are made. Time would be the make or break factor if she stayed or retreated back home with her tail between her legs.

One year.

That was her deadline. One year to get a job at a label, get discovered, or possibly find something worth renewing her lease. Working as a singer at a jazz bar could possibly have one of the options come true. Again, it would take time before something happened.

Y/n wasn’t the only singer at the club. Another girl was on stage Monday’s, Wednesday’s, and Saturday’s whereas Y/n was booked Tuesday’s, Thursday’s, and Friday’s. The club was closed Sunday’s and the nights Y/n didn’t sing she was a server or bartender. The pay was good for the most part with her tips racking in more income than the biweekly check for singing and serving. Sometimes she’d get compliments from patrons, especially the older crowd saying, “You have such a unique voice—the way you have control and range makes me think you should be on the radio and not some little jazz club like this. Your talent shouldn’t be wasted, dear.”

The words and support always boosted Y/n’s confidence. Truly did it make her feel she could make it big. Actually break through into the industry. But that takes time and sometimes the opportunity arises when one least expects it.

Maybe she could audition for American Idol. Maybe she could upload videos on that new website YouTube. Maybe she could be bold and send some demos to labels, praying it would land on someone’s desk.

Or, someone important from said label would wander into the club.

That idea seemed like a far stretch. But just three months shy of Y/n’s deadlines she was approached by a gentleman after she finished her number one Friday night. A business card in his hand, he said, “Give me a call Monday morning, I’d like to set up a meeting to talk with you about your potential. Bring some demos if you have any.”

A notebook of songs in her hand and a CD of demos she spent the whole weekend working on, Y/n left Capitol Records that morning with a copy of her contract in hand and the promise of bringing forth the best music of her life. There were tears shed as she relayed the exciting news to her family back home. Her coworkers whom she adored threw her a party at the club in celebration that night. She wouldn’t leave the club just yet. Just because she had signed didn’t mean she would make it big in the long run. No, she decided to stay at the club until she at least was at the level where she could financially afford to.

The first time Y/n heard herself on the radio she broke into tears. It happened unexpectedly too. After packing up her car with two weeks worth of groceries that cost her entire paycheck Y/n switched the the radio to the pop station and was singing along to the tunes when she heard the beginning chords to her song, ‘Teenage Dream.’ Cars honked around after she slammed the brakes and abruptly pulled to the side of the road, eyes wide with her hands covering her mouth.

“You think I’m pretty without any makeup on. You think I’m funny when I tell the punchline wrong. I know you get me, so I let my walls come down, down.”

Y/n literally changed the channel just to change it back to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. That it was actually her song playing.

“Before you met, I was alright, but things were kinda heavy. You brought me to life, now every February, you’ll be Valentine. Valentine.”

“Let’s go all the way tonight. No regrets, just love. We can dance, until we die. You and I, will be young forever.”

“Oh my God!!!” She got out of her car just to scream while jumping up & down. People on the sidewalk were looking at her crazy but she didn’t care. Not when her own song was blasting from her car on the radio.

“You make me, feel like I’m living a Teenage Dream. The way you turn me on, I can’t sleep. Let's run away and don’t ever look back. Don’t ever look back.”

Y/n’s entire life took a 180 after that very day. Her talent agent and manager from Capital Records were calling her saying she was on the Billboard Hot 100. They were planning on releasing her second single earlier than planned in order to push up the release of her album. Every radio station was playing ‘Teenage Dream,’. There were days Y/n would be in a store and would hear in playing, causing her to break out in a grin.

Before long Y/n was getting calls left in right with her manager and publicist securing television appearances and interviews. Her second single ‘Firework’ was an instant hit, becoming a gold certified record in just a few weeks. People auditioning for X-Factor and American Idol were covering it. Videos being posted to YouTube. Then Y/n released ‘Last Friday Night,’, becoming a popular song for teenagers and young adults. The full album shot her off into stardom.

“SNL?” She dropped her muffin, staring wide eyed at her manager. “SNL wants me to perform?”

“I got Lorne Micheals on the phone—I literally have him on hold—and he’s awaiting your answer.”

“Tell him my answer is ‘fuck yeah!’”

“I’ll tell him…you said yes.”

The appearance on SNL only increased Y/n’s popularity. Following it was invitations to the Kids & Teen Choice Awards, the Billboard Music Awards and the MTV VMAS, in which she won Best New Artist at all shows and Song of The Summer at the TCA’s. The first time she won she was a stuttering mess, thanking the fans and people who voted for her and her family, managers, execs at Capitol Records all while trying not to cry on live television.

Then the 2009 Grammys happened. And she won Best Pop Album and Record of The Year for ‘Last Friday Night’. Her hands shook as she accepted the award from none other than Usher, trying not to fangirl as she approached the microphone. She was never gonna get used to meeting the people she admired.

“O-oh wow,” she stuttered over the screams, feeling the cool surface of the award in her hand. A Grammy. She was a Grammy Award winning recording artist. “This is the greatest honor I’ve ever received—bigger than when I graduated with high school honors,” she laughed nervously, causing people in the crowd to smile at her. “Huge thank you to the Recording Academy for this award. It’s an honor to be part of a group with so many artists I admire—some of whom I’ve listened to for years a-and I can’t believe I have the privilege of being in your presence. I-I wanna take a moment to thank everyone at Capitol Records, my managers Raven and Paul. To everyone who helped me on this album who put their heart and soul into it—this award is not just mine it’s yours. To my family watching at home, I know you’re all losing your minds in front of the tv,” she grinned at the laughs around her, “I love you all so so much and thank you for your support—helping me get to where I am. I’m sorry if I forgot anyone else—t-there telling me to wrap up—b-but thank you—thank you so much for this, I’m so blessed and honored—I can’t even put it into words. Thank you!”

All of 2009-2010 was dedicated to her second album. Y/n was in the studio, writing songs on napkins when she was out with friends, mentally hearing the tunes in her head. She presented and performed at award shows and she went on tour. The goal was to have the songs ready and written by the time the tour ended. Luckily she achieved that goal with at least twenty potential for an album. Anytime Y/n found inspiration she made sure to write it down as quickly as possible.

Now with two Grammys under her name, one of which was for her debut album, the pressure was on.

“This is totally different from what you’ve been doing,” her producer said to her after reading the songs.

“I know, that’s the whole point,” she gave a pointed look, “I don’t want everything to be or sound the same. This is gonna have a different sound than what we did last year. Trust me it’s gonna be big.”

Might as well call her psychic cause that’s exactly what she was.

“It’s been a great week for popstar Y/n L/n, her recent single ‘Summertime Sadness,’ has shot to the top spot of this week’s Billboard Hot 100. A new sound that’s more mellow than her previous work, it’s been well received by fans and critics. L/n is finishing up the American leg of her world tour and is set to release her second studio album in the fall. Just two years ago L/n became an international star after winning two Grammys for her debut album and appearing on television such as Saturday Night Live, Ellen Degeneres, and The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. With her unique voice and style she’s been viewed as the next pop diva, joining that of Madonna, Britney Spears, and Lady Gaga.”

‘Video Games’ was released when the tour concluded and it became her best single to date. The music video was played on MTV early in the mornings and predicted to be nominated for every award one could think of. It was that single combined with the critical acclaim from her album in 2011 that had Baz Luhrmann calling Y/n to write a song for his upcoming 2013 movie ‘The Great Gatsby.’

“And the Oscar goes to….” Y/n’s hand clutched her manager’s, keeping a calm face since the camera was panned on her and the other nominees. In Halle Berry’s hand was the envelope with the winner of the 2014 Oscar for ‘Best Original Song.’ Heart pumping out of her chest, she barely registered her song and name leaving the actress's lips. “Young & Beautiful,’ by Y/n L/n.”

Baz jumped from his seat, as did her manager and producer, the latter of whom she was sharing the Oscar with. A hand flew to her mouth, feeling her arm tugged as they lifted her from her seat while the theater erupted in applause. It felt like she was floating when she approached the stairs, taking the arm of her producer when he offered her help.

“Congratulations,” Halle said, opening her arms for a congratulatory hug before handing the gold statue to the singer. Y/n let out a mix of a sob and laugh as she replied, “T-thank you.”

Another statue was presented to her producer, Y/n waiting for the applause to end until giving her speech.

“O-oh my God, I just met Halle Berry,” there were some chuckles, the singer pausing to hold a hand to her thumping heart while the other clutched the Oscar. “I-I don’t know how to start. First, thank you to the Academy foremost—it’s an honor to be receiving this recognition. Shout out to the other nominees and their incredible work—you all are amazing and we’re so lucky to be almost you all. We all have one major thing in common, and that’s music. Music and movies bring people together—it’s a universal language that we get to be a part of and I am so grateful everyday for being a part of it. Thank you to Baz for allowing us this opportunity—it was so fun working on this song for you and your spectacular film. This Oscar is for you, Baz,” she saw the director blow a kiss from his seat. “Thank you to my producer, Tim—who’s standing right next to me. The magic behind Young & Beautiful, Tim you are a genius and I love you so much. Lastly, to my family back home—ah!” She waved the trophy like a little kid, “Look! I love you all so so much—thank you and I can’t wait to celebrate with you when I come home. Thank you everyone!”

Each year came with more success. The rest of 2014 going all the way to 2016 was nonstop energy. She was working day and night, touring, performing on talk shows, collaborating with other artists—like Taylor Swift, Nicki Minaj, The Weekend, & Justin Bieber—and dabbling in acting jobs. Y/n secured roles in films like The Greatest Showman, The Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials & Death Cure, & The Shape of Water. Some television roles included MTV’s Teen Wolf, American Horror Story and guest appearances on Criminal Minds, Greys Anatomy, and Doctor Who. Her role on AHS garnered her an Emmy for Best Supporting Actress in a Drama Series. After the award show her manager told her with a wink, “All you need is a Tony and you’re part of the EGOT club.”

EGOT. The ‘grand slam’ in show business. Where only more than a dozen people have achieved the status in which they have won an Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and Tony. The biggest awards in television, music, film, and theater.

After she heard that….well you could say Y/n was on a mission.

She continued to release music while pursuing acting. She leased her third and fourth studio albums in the span of eight months—a rare sighting for an artist. Both broke records in their own right. ‘Break Free,’ was playing in every club and ‘Imagine’ was used in Riverdale. She won the Grammy for best Pop album once again and performed ‘Imagine’ at the show. The second it was revealed she got the role of Christine in Broadway’s Phantom of the Opera, the buzz was already on if she would achieve EGOT status if she was nominated for the Tony.

The show opened in early 2017, selling out at a rapid rate with people coming from all over the country solely to watch Y/n perform. She already showed the world she was a brilliant singer and actress, now it was time to combine the two.

Never did she think she’d meet the love of her life at a show.

Jake Seresin wasn’t much of a musical man, but his sister and nieces were so he sucked it up and attended with them. Now Jake wasn’t living under a rock, he damn well knew who Y/n L/n was and frankly the man was a fan. A lot of his exes were fans of the popstar so he was quite familiar with her music and even enjoyed her acting. So of course he was more keen to the idea of going to a Broadway show if it meant he got to see her perform live.

What he didn’t expect was to—literally—run into her on his way back to the hotel. After telling his sister he’d pick food up since her daughters were too tired to go to a restaurant, Jake took a shortcut which happened to be the alley between the show venue. The bag in his hand dropped, the pilot falling to his ass when the door suddenly opened and hit smack in the face.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” A voice shouted followed by a gasp. “Are you okay, sir? ‘Please don’t have blood-please don’t have blood.’

“I’m fine,” he moaned, shaking his head a bit and feeling for any sign of a wound. Thankfully he found none. “It’s alright, ma’am.”

“Here let me,” she helped him up, Jake stumbling a bit and apologizing when he bumped into her. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance in case you have a concussion?”

“No, no,” he insisted, finally looking up which only resulted in him freezing. The woman he watched on stage not even an hour ago was standing in front of him. “Oh wow.”

Y/n was frozen too, for he was the most attractive man she’d ever laid eyes on. The glow from the street light shined down on him, illuminating his green eyes and blonde hair. His bone structure was what most Hollywood heartthrobs would die for. Come to think of it he could literally pass as a young James Dean.

“H-hi,” she smiled, feeling a bit flustered all of a sudden. It didn’t help that he was still holding onto her shoulders, and she was clutching his forearms.

“Hi.” Gosh even his voice was attractive. A southern accent could be made out with the simple word.

“I’m so sorry for not looking before pushing the door out like that. I—,” Y/n cut herself off when she spotted the discarded bag of what appeared to be food. Some of it spilled out causing guilt to fill her, “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry about your food.” Stepping away she reached into her bag to pull out her wallet. “How much was—.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jake says, but the singer shakes her head.

“No I insist,” she takes out a random amount of bills which was likely triple what he had actually paid but she didn’t care. She extended her hand out with the cash, “I rammed a door into you and made you drop your food. Please let me make it up—otherwise I’m gonna have to drag you to the place you got it from and replace it myself.”

Jake couldn’t help but smile, taking the cash and examining it before only keeping the amount he had originally paid. “No need to give me more than what it was worth. Here,” he hands back the extra, making her frown but she takes it regardless. Her eyebrows then raise when he goes, “But you could make it up to me in another way?”

Tilting her head, she can’t help but say, “How so?”

“By having a drink with me. If you’re available.”

So that’s how Y/n L/n met her soulmate. By hitting him face first with a door. He literally fell for her if one thought about it—pun intended.

What made it even better was Broadway not only gifted her future husband, but her status as an EGOT winner.

“Last night was a record breaking night for popstar Y/n L/n. The 30-year-old singer and actress has become one of just over a dozen to join the prestigious EGOT Club after winning the Tony for her Leading Actress in a Musical for her role of Christine in Broadway’s Phantom Of The Opera. L/n won the Grammy for Best Pop Album and Record of The Year in 2009 followed by the Oscar for Best Original Song in 2014 for The Great Gatsby. She then went on to appear in several television series including the popular horror series American Horror Story in which she won the Emmy for Best Supporting Actress in a Drama Series. It was rumored L/n would venture into Broadway to possibly add a Tony to her collection of numerous awards, confirming this in mid-2016 when the cast for the 2017 run of Andrew Webber’s Phantom Of The Opera was released. Classically trained as a child, the popstar showed she can belt a lyric and hold a tune. It was a spectacular night for Y/n L/n, receiving a standing ovation when her name was called for the award and dedicating the Tony to her family, friends, cast members, and managers who’ve been with her since her debut in the music industry almost a decade ago. She is one of the youngest stars to ever achieve EGOT status and the fastest ever in a career.”

Many many songs were inspired by her relationship with Jake. Her entire album released a year after they got together was basically a love letter to him. ‘Love Song’ was regarded as her most beautiful record to date, a source for many fan-made videos for their favorite fictional characters and features in movie soundtracks. ‘Love Me Harder,’ & ‘34+35’ had fans go crazy with how frisky they were. Though their relationship was a secret it was obvious the popstar was in love. It only made fans want to know who was the special man to take her heart.

Jake learned pretty early on the price that came with dating a critically acclaimed songwriter: that if messed up there would be a song about it.

Immediately speculations arose that Y/n and her secret partner were broken up with the release of songs like ‘Woman Like Me,’ & ‘Power.’ She had to get on instagram one day to settle the rumors with a picture of their interlaced hands saying, “You drive me wild sometimes, but my love for you overpowers all.”

Their relationship was eventually exposed when Jake appeared in her music video for ‘Secret Love Song,’ released just shortly before he was set to return to Top Gun. People could easily tell the chemistry between Y/n and her ‘love interest’.

Maybe a little too much chemistry.

Dedicated fans were able to find out who Jake was in less than a week. Matching up his social media post locations and dates with hers, they didn’t even need them to confirm their suspicion to know they were together.

“I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” Jake chuckled, showing Y/n his phone screen with a picture that was just sent to TMZ of the two in San Francisco.

Y/n simply shrugged, “I’m fine with it if you are. I’m happy we got to keep it to ourselves for this long. And considering people are now asking about this—,” she held up her left hand, flashing the diamond engagement ring Jake spent his entire year’s paychecks on. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

Was Jake still the arrogant, egotistical pilot amongst his peers? Yes. But was he the type to boast about how he was engaged to one of the best musical artists of the century? Surprisingly no.

He actually enjoyed keeping that little detail a secret. To Jake his personal life was for him and him only. And he didn’t want people going around saying he was a gold-digger or wanting to be that guy who got to say he hooked up with a celebrity. Nah, he was in love with Y/n with his entire being. She was the gravity that kept him down to Earth. Sure they bickered like any couple but never once did either of them cross a line.

The only time they ever had a big argument was when he did get jealous over one of her former co-stars trying to have a shot at her. Y/n tried brushing it off saying it was nothing, but Jake could tell the signs and it upset him Y/n was not taking him seriously. “I just don’t see why you’re being so childish about a dinner party that’s gonna have multiple people.”

“Have you even asked who else is coming? Or wondered why he’s started texting you more when you guys finished filming ages ago? I’m not trying to be insecure or jealous, Y/n, but I know when a guy is trying to flirt. He didn’t even acknowledge me as your date when we were at the premier party. In fact I don’t think he said hello to me when he approached. All his eyes were was on you—which I don’t blame because you’re the most beautiful woman on the planet—but trust me, I know that look because I have it every second I’m with you.”

Needless to say you didn’t go to that dinner party and instead were doing what ‘Love Song’ was about the entire weekend.

When Jake goes to Top Gun for the special detachment, he’s still the arrogant asshole the others thought him to be. But if they were being honest they could see a difference in him. Maybe it was because he wasn’t flirting with anything with legs. Maybe it was the fact he rejected the drink from a pretty blonde. Maybe it was because they caught him smiling at his phone whenever he got a text. Whatever it was, they wanted to find out.

The only person in the detachment who knew of Y/n was Javy considering he was Jake’s best friend. She met him roughly eight months after she and Jake got together after much discussion. Their relationship was still a secret by then so they were hesitant to let anyone besides her team know, but Javy was an important person to Jake. He wanted his best friend to know the woman he loved.

Natasha being the amateur sleuth she was pretty much discovered Jake’s secret in a few days, “No fucking way.”

The evidence was presented to Jake during their lunch break the day after she found out, Nat holding the phone up for him to see. She literally watched the gears turn in his head, a sly smirk forming on his lips. “What about that, Trace?” The question caught the attention of their colleagues, who were trying not to show they were eavesdropping.

“Is that not you?” Nat looked at the screen to make sure it was on the zoomed in image of him and Y/n L/n. The entire music video Jake’s face was pretty much hidden from view, but briefly his face could be made out at certain angles.

“It is,” he shrugged, going back to his sandwich. A cluttered sound indicated Nat had dropped the phone on the table, scrambling to pick it up.

“So you just casually ended up in Y/n L/n’s music video for her iconic song?” By now heads turned, expressions of absolute shock. Well all except Coyote. He just raised his brows at Jake while holding back a laugh, wanting to see what he would say.

“No, I ended up in my fiancé’s music video for her iconic song.”

“You’re what?!”

“Babe, I got a favor to ask you,” Jake’s voice was tainted with exhaustion when he FaceTimed Y/n that night. She was at their Fresno home since he was stationed at NAS Lemoore and was planning to meet him in San Diego that weekend. Raising a brow at him through the screen she could tell he looked apologetic.

“What is it?”

“You think you could come down earlier than planned?” At her reaction he explained, “My detachment found out about us and well……they’re accusing me of photoshopping the photos of you and I—even though they literally saw us make out in your music video. And I want to prove to them I’m telling the truth.”

A moment passed and then Y/n burst into laughter to the point of tears. What got her was the photoshopping accusation.

“Stop laughing,” he pouted, “I’m fighting for me life out here—I could use some backup.”

“My goodness, Jake Seresin,” she calmed down, shaking her head at his butt hurt expression. “You’re something else you know?”

“So does that mean you’re coming?”

“I’ll book my flight for the morning as soon as we get off.”

One could envision the confusion on the pilots/WSOs when Jake prevented them from leaving the airstrip at the end of the work day. It was pushing five in the afternoon, they were tired and hungry, and honestly could care less about what Jake had to show them.

That was until the black SUV with tinted windows pulled up to the parking lot where they were standing. When the door opened jaws dropped to the floor with eyes bulging out at the person emerging from the vehicle. Who happened to jump into Jake’s awaiting arms. Fanboy had to rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing clearly. That it was Y/n L/n sharing a kiss with the resident asshole.

“Oh my God he wasn’t kidding,” Rooster said with a mix of awe and disbelief. Javy patted him on the chest, moving first to greet the popstar who shocked the pilots again with her warm welcome to them. None knew how to react when the couple approached hand in hand.

It’s not everyday someone meets a fucking EGOT winner.

“Hello,” Y/n smiled a dazzling grin, drifting her eyes over each of them and committing their callsign to memory. She could tell what they were likely thinking, ‘How the hell did Hangman manage to pull a fucking popstar?’ And ‘He must be brainwashing her, blink twice if you need help,’ kind of stuff.

Introductions were in store as well as explanations for how the couple came to be. In all the years they knew the pilot, none could’ve predicted that kind of secret. They quickly learned Y/n was not the typical celebrity—some of them were even ashamed to think she’d be stuck up, arrogant, snobbish. They were almost convinced the personality she had in interviews and fan interactions were fake, but Y/n was a truly genuine person. Not only did she come from humble beginnings, but she was a hard, driven worker who truly earned everything she’s gained.

And she was perfect for Jake. They were like two peas in a pod, with Y/n being the only one who could bring him back down to earth. Truly was an amazing thing to witness and the daggers were having trouble comprehending it at times. Hearing the story of how the two met brought tears to Rooster and Fanboy’s eyes by how funny it was, while Phoenix was covering her mouth to hide her smirk at how embarrassed her colleague was.

“In my defense,” he puts his hands on his chest when Bob asks why he thought to pass the side door, “I didn’t expect anyone to still be inside and potentially use that door.”

“He just hates when I tease him about how he literally fell for me,” Y/n winks, making them all smirk.

Later on in the night after going to the Hard Deck for drinks and pool, Rooster says, “You know I feel I won’t be able to use my karaoke song if we ever go cause I’ll be too flustered to sing a song in front of the person it’s written by.” Y/n couldn’t help but blush, giggling lightly.

“What is it?”

“Last Friday Night. Such a banger—really gets the crows going.”

Even after the Uranium mission happened, the daggers continued to remain in contact. Many were offered jobs of instructors but the real surprise came a couple months later from the Pentagon asking if they could remain a permanent team. Selling their San Francisco home, Jake and Y/n moved to San Diego, which was better since it was closer to L.A. The team hung out often with Friday nights reserved for the Hard Deck.

Y/n even found musical inspiration with them.

“So I have a proposal,” she hums to Nat and Callie one day while the guys are playing football on the beach. “Not a marriage one Jake claimed that one already,” she pauses when they all laugh at the joke, “but a ‘if you want to be a part of it I would love it if you did but I understand if you can't be’ kind of one.”

Nat tilts her head curiously, Callie mirroring her, “What is it?”

“I wrote a song….that you two helped inspire,” Y/n smiles at their expressions, “and I’d love for you both to be in the music video after I release it.”

Nat loses it, “OH MY GOD YOU WHAT?!!”

“Can we hear it!?” Callie blushes, “I’m so honored—oh my God I literally don’t know how to react to that.”

“Girl you cannot just drop that on us,” Nat playfully points with narrowed eyes, “If you weren’t Jake’s soon to be wife I would marry you right now.” Y/n just laughs, rummaging through her bag to find her notebook to show them the song.

“If he messes up you’ll be the first to know and we can head to the courthouse.”

“Don’t play with me now, Y/n,” Nat shakes her head. “No man has ever done something like that. Write a song inspired by me?” She gives a dramatic sigh. “Feels like I’m living in a romance novel.”

Both read the song, both fell in love with it and pretty much cried. It was empowering, motivational, a love letter to women, everything they wished they heard growing up in a field where men dominated and looked down upon them. Y/n made sure to keep them updated when she was in the studio, allowing them to hear it first before it was released.

2020 was a year no one could’ve expected.

It started off great with the singer releasing ‘Salute,’ shortly after the New Year and filing the music video in February. The song was well received from fans and critics, with people already calling it the ‘anthem of the year.’ Jake loved it and would send clips of him in the car to Y/n belting the lyrics. The guys all loved it too and loved that their colleagues were the source of inspiration.

Halo and Phoenix were part of the MV as well as women who in real life were doctors, nurses, lawyers, teachers, athletes, students, astronauts, & scientists from all ages, races/ethnicities, genders, etc. Not all of them were in the armed forces, but a couple were along with Nat and Callie. Special permission from the Navy & Top Gun was needed to put cameras in the F-18’s on the exterior and interior to capture footage of the two flying. Halo was Nat’s backseater for that day and the guys came out just to watch and support.

Released just before March, the music video hit 100 million views in less than 12 hours. It only grew from there with people praising Y/n and the women included in the project. There was talk of ‘Salute’ being nominated for the upcoming awards, Team USA asked permission to use the song for promotion for their women athletes for the upcoming Games. Y/n was over the moon, really looking forward for what the year held. Especially with her wedding around the corner.

Then the world shut down. Literally.

A global pandemic altered everything and everyone. Anything that required a group of people ranging from small to stadium level was banned. States were on curfew and not letting people cross borders, international traveling was restricted. Lockdown was mandated for pretty much everywhere to the point Jake was working from home for a couple months.

In that time Y/n threw herself into writing songs to release her next album. Her reason: she was in need of a break. Not a ‘I’m retiring from music,’ but a ‘I’m drained and in dire need of taking time for myself and start the family I’ve always wanted.’ It was always her plan for after she and Jake got married, just to have a few years for themselves and see where life takes them.

Thankfully when the pandemic hit Y/n was already done with her collaboration with Lady Gaga. The fellow popstar had been her friend since she joined the industry and it was a long time coming for the two to work together. Not to mention they were on American Horror Story together. The Mother Monster approached the High Note Princess in late 2019, both sharing ideas and writing the song together before recording to release in 2020. Filming the music video, they combed both of their aesthetics and styles to create a pop masterpiece.

Fans went crazy. They loved the return to classic pop when both singers had gone off to pursue acting careers and change their sound a bit. Many felt deprived of being able to dance to ‘Rain On Me’ in a club since going out was restricted. And you can best believe the Daggers felt the same—especially Rooster who loved to dance his ass off, “I would be tearing it up right now if Rona wasn’t such a bitch.”

Surprisingly the 2020 VMAs still happened. It was roughly six months after the outbreak and very strict regulations were in place for the show to go on. With ‘Rain On Me,’ being so popular and popstars releasing albums, Y/n and Lady Gaga were invited to perform. After prepping for weeks and self-quarantining, the daggers all gathered around at the couple’s home to watch the live show. Lady Gaga was the first to perform solely when it was their turn, then Y/n joined causing the select few in the crowd to cheer—with her friends and loved ones going crazy in their living room. All were in awe when she hit a high note, killing it with the choreography and honestly being the best performers of the night. Finally Lady Gaga left the stage with her dancers allowing Y/n’s to appear in time for the popstar to sing ‘Salute.’ At the house, Halo and Nat were dancing along and belting the lyrics with the guys while recording the performance on their phones.

“Sisters, we are everywhere! Warriors, your country needs you! If you’re ready, ladies, better keep steady, ready, aim, shoot! Don’t need ammunition, on a mission—now we hit you with the truth! Divas, queen, we don’t need no man, SALUTE!!”

2021 came with hope and breaths of fresh air. A vaccination was developed, restrictions were lifted in most locations meaning Y/n and Jake could finally plan for their wedding. It took a few months to plan, desiring an intimate private wedding at their home with their close friends and family. The daggers were all there, including Maverick, Cyclone, Warlock, and Hondo. Their families were all there as well as Y/n’s managers & agents, some cast members from the shows/films she grew close to, as well as artists like Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga, Alicia Keys, David Guetta, and The Black Eyed Peas, the Jonas Brothers, & Miley Cyrus.

A sweet ceremony, Y/n squealed when Jake tipped her back to the cheers of their loved ones as he kissed her passionately. “I love you so much, Y/n. Or should I say, Mrs. Seresin.”

“I love you too, Mr. Seresin,” she kissed him again, “Now let’s show them we’re the life of the party.”

Rings on their fingers, grins plastered their faces when they ran through the Arch of Swords the guys of the Dagger Squad set up on the aisle. Then came time for the reception. Jake presented Y/n with a sword, per military tradition, to cut the cake and Y/n poured the champagne over the tower of glasses. They had their first dance, which Javy made sure to do his best man duties and record everything.

Which came in handy when it was time for Y/n’s surprise for Jake.

Seating him in a chair at the front of the dance floor, Y/n smirked at his confused expression as she took the mic from the DJ, calling everyone's attention. “All of you know I’m one for surprises. And tonight is no exception,” biting her lip she signaled for her maid of honor, who started rounding up the bridesmaids. “I thought it would be great to give Jake a little treat tonight—do not take that the wrong way, I can already see your minds going somewhere,” she pointed at the daggers who were hollering, giggling as she continued, “Stop it. Anyways, we’ve been cooking up this little number for the past month and now it’s time to let it shine. Baby, this is for you.”

Jake slapped a hand to his mouth containing his expression of glee when the opening chords to Y/n’s ‘Power’ echoed through the speakers. Her bridesmaids got into place, the singer discarding her veil and moving to the center. Everyone was on their feet hooting and hollering, capturing the performance on their phones for memory. Javy even put the phone right up in Jake’s face, Payback slapping the pilot on the back as the others whistled and danced. Just the expression of his mother and family sent Jake into tears of laughter.

She was flabbergasted. Unlike his sister and brother who were having the time of their lives witnessing the masterpiece that was Y/n practically seducing her husband live and singer her own song.

“I don’t think she’s heard this song until now!” He shouted over the music to the phone, blushing when Y/n winked at him. To be fair, the bridge of ‘Power’ was a little on the frisky side and Y/n was edging closer to Jake until she was basically in his lap.

“Don’t be fooled, I got you wrapped up. In the arms of an animal—get you thinking that I’m all innocent. But wait ‘til I get you home. If you don’t, baby, you should know. I’m the one who’s in control.”

Hell yeah she was in control when she got home that night….well at least for a few rounds she was.

Sadness came with the announcement of her break from music. The hot topic for media outlets, Y/n had released a statement on Twitter and Instagram confirming the suspicions many had after her wedding. Fans were understandably upset that their favorite artist wouldn’t be releasing new material until further notice, but they’d rather have Y/n at her best and not give half ass energy in her work. She was burnt out. It was time for a break after 13 years with six albums, each with their own tour. Don’t get her wrong, the popstar loved to be on the road, but after a while she was ready to just stay home for some time without planning for what was next.

In the meantime she sold songs for other people, collaborated on writing with artists, and acted when filming was either in L.A or San Diego. She and Jake were happily married, little to no financial stress or personal issues, and were ready to expand their family. By mid 2025 they had/adopted two kids, two dogs, and a cat. They were a full house with no dull days whatsoever.

“Are you going to get back in the studio like you mentioned the other week?” Jake asked at dinner, helping cut his son's food into smaller pieces.

Y/n nibbled on her floor while also assisting their daughter, “Yeah I think this weekend I’m gonna call Jack up and see what his schedule is like. I got some lyrics I’d like him to read.” Sipping on her drink briefly she then asks, “How long do you think this next mission is going to be?”

“Probably a week or two. Mav is working out the details and hopes to tell us Monday. I just pray I’ll make it in time for your birthday.”

Y/n feels her heart skip, giving a soft smile, “You know I understand if you can’t, honey. If the Pentagon is tasking you then you know it’s important. We’ll celebrate either before or after you get back,” she assured, reaching over to hold his hand when he frowned.

“I just hate the idea of missing it, you know? It’s your birthday and I missed our anniversary last year,” he pauses to sigh, “I just hate leaving you guys for so long. And I never wanna make you feel like you’re always alone.”

“I knew what I was getting into when we fell in love. Don’t feel like you’re missing out or I’m going to suddenly start giving ultimatums because you know I’m not that person. If it was our anniversary or another memorable date I would still feel the same. You have a job, Jake, you’re the best there is to do it. There will be plenty more birthdays for us to be together for.”

Being back in the studio felt like a whole new world. It had been nearly five years since her last single was in late 2020. When Jake was working the kids would come with her and be the stars of the crew, playing in the mini play area they had set up while Y/n was recording. Besides the people she worked with, only Jake knew she was releasing new music. Quite literally Y/n did not announce anything until the night before with a single Tweet and Instagram post with the art cover and the caption, “Tomorrow at midnight, Between Us.”

She broke the internet to put it lightly.

@ Y/ns_microphone: WE’RE GETTING NEW MUSIC OMFG PLEASE TELL ME IT’S A WHOLE ALBUM!!

@ livinginharryshouse: y’all the High Note Princess is back I’m gonna lose it.

@ a_teenage_dream: 2025 ending on a great note 🥹 five years and the wait is over!!!!

@ dylanobrien ✔️: crying, shitting, throwing up. Thank you @ Y/n

August 2026

18 years in the music industry and the rush before a live performance had Y/n pacing backstage during the commercial break of the VMAs. Their children were being occupied by her manager while Jake helped her mentally prepare. He was going to be the one to present her the award at the end of her set, so they were just waiting for the green light from the stage manager. The performance was going to be nearly ten minutes, the longest she’s ever done live on an award show since it was going to be a medley of some of her classic hits while also including ‘Between Us’. Lady Gaga, Y/n’s close friend and who collaborated with her again on her most recent album, was going to introduce her.

“Deep breaths with me, baby,” Jake held her in his arms, kissing her forehead. “I can feel you shaking. But once you get on stage it’s gonna be like you never left.” Taking a strong inhale, Y/n let it out slowly before repeating.

“I know it probably won’t happen,” she starts to laugh, “but I can’t help but dread the idea of me falling on my ass or forgetting my lyrics.” Jake laughs with her, shaking his head while pulling away to look at her.

“Knowing you, you’d fall gracefully and make it look like it was intentional. Also you mumble those lyrics in your sleep…you won’t forget them.”

She leans more into him just as the stage manager yells, “You’re on in five, Y/n!” The commercial break must have ended. Lady Gaga was already being pulled on stage after wishing the popstar good luck with a hug and friendly kiss to the cheek. “We need you over here please.”

“That’s your cue,” Jake grins, cupping his wife’s face before bringing her in for a passionate kiss. Y/n smiles into it, nuzzling their noses together causing him to chuckle. When they pull away he says, “Go out there and have fun. Bottom line, baby, have fun out there and sing your heart out. I’m so lucky and honored to be your husband and share this life with you. Don’t start crying,” he playfully scolds when her eyes tear up, “you’ll ruin your nice makeup your team worked so hard on.” That makes her laugh. Jake kisses her again, “I love you, baby. I’ll see you at the end.”

“I love you, Jake,” she hugs him tightly, feeling comfort in the smell of his cologne. “Thank you for being by my side everyday. You’re the light of my life—,” she nods to the stage manager who was waving frantically. “Fuck okay, I wanted to be more romantic but I got to go before they drag me.”

“Go, go,” he kisses her cheek, Y/n moving quickly to kiss her children and hug her managers before waving goodbye. “We love you!!”

Running to the nearly annoyed stage manager, she throws off her robe to reveal her stage outfit and takes the microphone. Heart pounding, she adjusts her earpiece as they escort her to the spot she was needed just as Lady Gaga finished her introduction speech, “Los Angeles and to everyone watching at home, it is my honor to present to you your recipient of this year’s MTV Video Vanguard Award. Get on your feet and make some noise for the one and only, Y/n L/n!!”

It was still dark on stage where Y/n was hidden from the audience as all attention went to the giant screens all around showing the pre-recorded video montage with her face in black and white and eyes closed. The crowd was already going crazy as the camera zoomed in toward Y/n’s face while audio played of her talking about her love for music and the thrill of performing. The camera continued to pan in, the popstar on stage thinking about everything that had led her to that moment. From starting out her days singing in a jazz club, to becoming one of only 19 EGOT winners, and now the recipient of the Video Vanguard award.

The microphone went to her mouth, Y/n putting on the show of the year when the video ended with her eyes opening and voice echoing the music channel’s iconic phrase in the stadium, “I want my MTV!!”

…………

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

Tags :

jake seresin imagine jake seresin x reader jake seresin hangman x reader hangman imagine hangman top gun x reader

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lovesleclercs

1 year ago

Nice To Meet You - Guys Like You | Part I

an interactive top gun fic series! with a poll waiting for you at the end!

summary: Nat introduces you to the squad for the very first time. You expected a lot, but certainly not two of the most drop-dead gorgeous men ever to flirt with you.

6k only a tw for alcohol ig? otherwise just simping. on every and all ends.

guys like you masterlist | top gun masterlist

Nice To Meet You - Guys Like You | Part I

Nat's keys clanging onto the living room table should have been your first hint that something was not going to be normal about this evening. That she appeared in your doorway instead of vanishing into the shower next was an absolute red flag.

"We're going out tonight", she announced, not a trace of a smile on her face. You turned off your phone with a sigh and propped your head up on your pillow.

"Gee, not even a 'hello' or 'how are you' today, hm?", you asked.

"You need to go out", she went on, completely brushing over your interruption. She was dead-set on giving you a speech, you could tell. She was still sweaty, her hair slicked back, her flight-suit zipped up, but she was looking at you as though she hadn't just been through hours upon hours of what you'd probably call torture. "You've been just sitting in this room for the past two weeks and I can't stand it anymore."

You sat up with another sigh, tugging at your oversized, sauce-stained shirt that you were suddenly much too aware of.

"Nat, please, I need to get settled first."

"You settled a week ago."

She wasn't taking any bullshit today. She had let you off the hook too many times already, up until now swayed by your half-assed arguments of why you were hiding in your bedroom. "You're going out with us tonight."

"Us?", you asked, dreading the answer. Nat didn't have any friends outside of work here.

"Me and the squad", she said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to say.

"No", you laughed. "No, definitely not."

She frowned, finally moving out of the doorway and settling at the foot of your bed instead. At least it felt more like an eye-to-eye conversation now.

"It's just the squad", she shrugged.

"Just the squad?", you asked. "Just the squad? Nat, those people fly multi-million-dollar aircrafts on a daily basis, they're all ripped as hell and make thrice the money I made back in San Fran. I don't even have a job."

"First of all, you've applied for jobs, it takes time", she reasoned. (Sometimes you could have slapped her for her rationalism.) "Also I'm one of those people and my job never bothered you before."

You stared at her like she'd gone mad. How could she not get this? Yes, they were normal to her, they were her colleagues, her friends, but to you? Um, hello?

"Yeah, because I have pictures of you pooping your diapers", you said, exasperation lacing your tone. "I've known you for as long as I can remember. Those people have never met me. And I don't need them to meet me at my worst."

Even though she'd been dead-set on getting you out of this apartment, she still softened a little at that.

"You're not at your worst anymore", she reassured, smiling at you. "You're beyond that. You're starting a new life now."

"Still", you snorted. "I'm a nobody compared to you guys."

"God, don't say that!", she groaned, reaching over to squeeze your hand. "That kind of thinking is exactly why you need to get out of here for a few hours. You're coming with me, I don't care what you have to say about it. We leave at eight, we'll get takeout on the way and I promise that if you're not feeling any better by midnight, we'll go home."

You knew that you couldn't argue with her. She was determined to get you out of this apartment and even if you didn't agree, she'd drag you out screaming. She'd have no problem either - she was way stronger than you.

"I hate you", you mumbled, no real malice behind the words. She just grinned and got up to stretch.

"Great", she chuckled. "I'm gonna go shower and then get ready. If you're not done by eight I'm carrying you into the car myself, I don't care."

You just grabbed a lonesome sock from the bed and threw it at her as she turned and walked out, leaving you to yourself, your own thoughts and the realisation that you actually had to meet all those high-maintenance people. It took two seconds before you were tearing open your closet and dragging your shirt over your head. You had barely one and a half hours left to get ready and lord help you if you weren't finished on time.

...

You were buzzing with so much nervous energy when you got in the Uber that you felt like you were about to mutate into a bee. You couldn't imagine that would be any worse than what was about to happen anyway. Honestly, you'd been dreading meeting Nat's friends for months now, but it had got much, much worse when you'd moved out to San Diego. Because it had become a very real possibility. And today, well, today seemed to be the day that all those fears that had been festering for weeks and weeks would truly become reality.

You spent the entire car ride staring out of the window, thinking about how they'd surely all sneer at you, look at you with that expression just in between pity and arrogance that somehow all rich people wore. Maybe there'd be one or two decent people. Hopefully there would. Nat wasn't usually friends with absolute dickheads, but then again even back in highschool she'd got along with most of those popular jocks that wouldn't have looked twice at you. To be fair, she'd thrown some punches here and there, but you'd still rather keep to yourself than meet a bunch of snobs. At least you knew that Nat would be with you and that she wouldn't break her promise - if you weren't enjoying yourself, she'd take you back home dead on twelve.

You let out a last sigh when the car stopped, climbing out of your seat as slowly as you could while Nat paid, trying desperately to stall for as long as you possibly could. But she tutted at you and tucked her arm into yours, dragging you with her through the parking lot and over the threshold.

It didn't take long for you to realise that this was a navy bar. There were very, very few people in civilian clothes - in normal ones, you'd say - most of them were clad in uniforms. You could have rolled your eyes at that alone. Why were navy men always so goddamn eager to show off that they were navy? They couldn't seriously think anyone was going to throw themselves at them just because of their fucking uniforms. You'd much rather keep a very safe distance away from any and all navy guys - a radius of at least two miles.

"There they are", Phoenix said, a grin playing on her lips as she pointed at the corner with the pool tables. You internally braced yourself, taking another deep breath before you even dared to look where she was pointing, clutching the little purse you'd slung over your shoulder to ground you.

The bar wasn't particularly crowded yet and you could make out a group of people - not in uniform, thank god - huddled around both of the pool tables. As far as you could see, there was only one other woman. Of course. You should've guessed that Nat was flying with a bunch of testosterone monsters.

You hadn't expected much else, of course... but it still made you hyper-aware of the dress you'd picked out.

Nat whistled and let go of you when you got close enough to the squad (your skin was practically burning up and you were seriously considering turning around and making a run for it, but you'd never been too good at running and were much to scared to face-plant on the floor). The guys turned around like dogs, answering to her whistle and nothing more, and way too many pairs of eyes landed on you in the span of a single second.

"Alright?", Nat grinned, shoving you a little step in front of her. It wasn't like you were shy. You really weren't. Maybe you weren't exactly extroverted, but you certainly weren't shy. Usually. So you couldn't even be mad at her for forcing you to come out of your shell like this. "I'd like to introduce you idiots to my roommate."

One of the guys put his pool cue down and immediately your focus switched to him. You had to admit that for a moment there you forgot how to breathe. He was tall and he was blond and he had strikingly green eyes and broad shoulders and that button-up was really doing things for you. You'd expected Nat's friends to be talented and rich, sure, but not that goddamn handsome.

"You never told us your roommate's stunning", he drawled, all Texan accent dripping from his words like molten honey and sticking to your brain, and his grin almost sent you careening straight into his arms. You needed longer than you should've to really process his words, only realising that oh god, had he just called you stunning? when Nat was already rolling her eyes.

"Do not, Bagman", she hissed, "flirt with her or I will end you."

Bagman only chuckled at that and strode towards you, holding out his hand and luckily you had enough braincells left to grasp it. Normal, you told yourself. Totally normal greeting. You did your best to ignore the heat in your cheeks and the way his fingers felt.

"Hangman", he introduced himself, that award-winning grin still on his lips. "But you can call me Jake."

He winked, completely brushing over Nat's threat. She slapped the back of his head and he finally pulled his hand from yours as you stuttered out your name.

"What did I just say", Nat seethed, practically dragging him away from you. He just shrugged and chuckled to himself.

"Can't help myself around beautiful ladies, I'm afraid."

She slapped him another time for that and he brought his hand to his hair to rub over the spot that you were sure must already have been sore. Nat had a wicked right hook.

"Keep it in your pants, Bagman", she threatened again, then turned back to you. "Alright, now that the worst is over, I'll introduce you to the others."

She spun to stand next to you, eyes narrowing as she paused for a second. You could barely raise your eyebrows. All of this was so overwhelming. You'd expected everything from embarrassment to ridicule, but certainly not that anyone was about to flirt with you. And one gorgeous piece of human being as well.

But he probably did that with everyone.

He was navy, for gods sake! What were you thinking? Navy guys were toxic assholes that brought a new conquest home every night only to leave them unsatisfied and doing the walk of shame in the morning. You had enough troubles already, you really didn't need to add another man to the pile.

So you straightened and made yourself swear not to give Jake another second of acknowledgement.

Nat seemed to have finished her assessment of the group, whatever it had been, and she didn't look satisfied.

"Where's Bradshaw?", she asked.

"Probably doing what he does best", Jake sighed, snatching the pool cue up again and leaning over the table to take a shot. "Slow ridin'."

You had seriously no clue whatsoever how pool worked, but he straightened again with a self-satisfied expression and you guessed he must've done good, especially when his friend groaned. He caught your gaze and you snapped it away, cursing yourself for already fucking up on your promise. Nat huffed.

"He better have a convincing excuse", she muttered. "I thought I told everyone to make a good first impression."

Then she clapped her hands.

"Okay! Anyway. Next to Bagman, that's Coyote."

Coyote raised his beer at you and smiled. You gave him a little wave.

"Next to Coyote that's Fanboy and next to him that's Payback."

You waved at them too, laughing as Fanboy waved back with just a little too much vigor and as Payback threw you a sloppy salute. Nat turned to the other pool table.

"Over there that's Fritz, Yale, Harvard, Omaha and Halo."

She grinned, grabbed you by the shoulders and maneuvered you around, pointing at a man with big glasses on his nose, sitting in one of the few chairs that were facing the pool tables. He stopped popping nut mix into his mouth the second your eyes fell on him, his hand hovering uncertainly in mid-air.

"And that's", Nat said, almost prideful, "That's Bob."

"Ooh!", you keened, a little more confident that everybody seemed at least somewhat happy to see you and a little more excited now that you remembered a person from Nat's stories. "Backseater Bob?"

"That's me", Bob chuckled, red tinting his cheeks as he smiled, putting away the nut mix to wipe his hands off on his pants and reach one out to shake yours. You couldn't help but mirror his grin - his fingers were soft and he was gentle with you, a bit unlike Jake. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too", you nodded, already comfortable with him after all of two seconds. You understood now why Nat was so glad to have him as her backseater - he seemed like the complete opposite of the navy cliché that you despised so much.

Bob just smiled at you for a moment. His glasses made his eyes a little bigger than they probably were and honestly, you could see yourself getting along well with him. He seemed sweet and genuine and kind and you could feel your anxiety start to let go of you, start to slip away a bit.

"Oh", he let out and straightened. "D'you want something to drink?"

"She does", Nat interrupted before you could decline, as though she'd already known you would. She probably had, to be honest. She knew you well enough. "Would you get us two tequila shots and two mojitos?"

"Two tequila shots and two mojitos?", you laughed, turning around to her in surprise.

"I told you, you need to let loose", she grinned. "And we're letting loose tonight!"

"Oh yeah", you snorted, pushing her away by her shoulder as Bob got up and walked over to the bar. "Really letting loose apparently."

Nat only laughed and let herself flop down on one of the chairs, patting the seat next to her with Bob's nut mix on it. You grabbed it and sat down as well, brushing your hand down the front of your dress, smoothing it out.

You watched Nat's friends bustle about the pool tables. Watched Nat's squad as they talked and laughed. Watched Jake - just out of the corner of your eyes, really! - as he clapped Coyote on the back and you could've sworn that even though you really definitely weren't looking!!! his eyes were fixed on you. It had you fiddling with the straps of your dress.

"So?", Nat asked eventually, drawing your attention back to her. "They're not as bad as you thought, are they?"

Internally, you had to agree with her. Okay, maybe you'd been a little overdramatic. Maybe they weren't as bad. They didn't seem so. But also you'd known them for less than two minutes and you knew just how good people sometimes were at deceiving you.

"Give me a minute to get to know them and I'll tell you after", you smiled.

"That I can work with."

"Ladies", Jake's voice rang out, just before he stepped up right in front of you, leaving you practically no choice but to look up at him. He was grinning, the pool cue still in his hand. "You'll play a round, won't you?"

Nat shifted in her seat.

"Haven't got your ass kicked enough yet?", she asked.

"You know you couldn't kick my ass if you tried, Phee."

"We'll see about that."

She was up in a second, grabbing the cue from Jake and strolling over to the table as you watched her. You hadn't moved. You weren't about to.

That almost lazy kind of teasing they had going on reminded you of all those other people like Jake that she'd been friends with throughout her life. Not that you didn't make fun of each other - wasn't that practically the baseline of every friendship? But with them... You couldn't put your finger on it just now. It wasn't that they actually despised each other, you knew what Nat's hatred looked like and it wasn't this, and it certainly wasn't flirting either, you knew what Nat's type looked like and as handsome as you found Jake, he definitely wasn't it. Maybe it was just the combination of their personalities, maybe it was nothing at all. It was a bit like they still hadn't quite decided that they liked each other, even though they obviously did get on.

"What about you?", Jake asked and you blinked up at him in surprise. Sure, he'd addressed the both of you, but you'd kind of just assumed that he'd meant Nat.

"Uh, I don't play", you said carefully, still unsure if - and if, then why - he was talking to you. Hadn't Nat just agreed to play against him? Were two players not enough somehow? Was this like, a group game?

Jake raised his eyebrows.

"You don't play pool?", he asked, like he'd never met anybody who dared not play pool.

"No, I don't", you said, very slowly, as though that would somehow lessen the risk of miscommunication. "I don't know how to."

The corners of his lips tugged upwards at that, just slightly, like he wanted to hide his grin from you. Was he making fun of you? Honestly you couldn't even be mad at him if he was - you'd expected pretty much nothing else from the squad. But it did come as a bit of a surprise now that your impression of them all had so rapidly changed.

"Well we can't have that", Jake tutted, reaching out a hand again, hanging in mid-air as you looked at it sceptically. This whole situation was a little overwhelming. Or maybe it was just him that was a little overwhelming. "You're at a navy bar, Sunny. You have to know pool."

You glanced from his hand back up at his face and felt kind of daft with how much time your brain needed to process all this.

"Sunny?", you asked, because of all the questions that you had this was the easiest one to phrase. And maybe because it was the thing that had thrown you off track the most. Jake's grin only widened.

"Navy nature to give nicknames, darlin'", he chuckled while you realised that you'd still not taken his hand and that at this point it probably started being weird (and heavy) to hold his arm out like that. So despite your earlier promise, which, you had to admit, you'd already thrown out of the window a second after you'd made it, you acknowledged him very much. As carefully as you possibly could, you put your hand in his as he talked, and immediately he tightened his grip on you and helped you stand up. You were a little too close to him now, a little too close for good, and if Nat hadn't been occupied racking the pool balls she probably would have kicked Jake in the face. But he didn't seem to mind, only carried on talking, apparently not whatsoever surprised by the sudden close proximity or by how easily the pet names had slipped off his lips.

Sunny. Darlin'.

"And that's just a lovely dress", he went on, leaning in even closer, so close that for just a second you almost could have felt his breath on your ear. "I think yellow might be my new favourite colour."

He pulled back with a wink and then he was gone, just the weight of his hand resting in yours left as he led you to the pool table Nat was setting up. He let go of you the very moment she looked up, a smile on her lips, and your breath caught in your throat. Jake was playing a dangerous game and he was pulling you down with him.

He strolled around the table back to Coyote, who was still holding the other pool cue in his hands, and Nat took the few steps towards you, her smile dropping a bit.

"Bagman bother you?", she asked, genuinely a little worried.

"Nah", you said, a little shaky, and shook your head. "I'm fine."

It wasn't a real answer, but she let it slide, nodding as she watched Jake return with the second cue now.

"You just let me know if he does", she muttered and then there he was, too quick for you to respond.

Nat was usually protective. She always had been, and rightfully so. Always a little weary of guys you went on dates with, always a little weary of guys you brought home. You'd minded sometimes, like back in college when you'd had a crush on that guy from musical theatre and she had threatened so vividly to break his neck if he hurt you that he'd never talked to you again. But she had clearly been right about most of them and so you really should trust her, really, you should... and yet.

She was practically telling you to stay far away from Jake. She was doing it the other way around, for now, but you were sure she'd give you the whole speech tomorrow morning as well. And you'd just met this guy, it wasn't like you were head over heels in love with him, but he was charming and flirty and it was working on you.

He was just about to open his mouth and, you guessed, start explaining pool to you when Nat suddenly straightened.

"Bradshaw!", she called out, so loud that the whole bar must've heard her, and you turned to see what - who - she was looking at as if in reflex. The crowd nothing short of parted for him.

A ridiculous Hawaiian shirt on that caught your eye first, then those sunglasses - were that Ray Bans? Hadn't they got out of style like, a decade ago? - and then... Oh, and then.

"That's a pornstache", you said, quite dumbly, you had to admit, and Nat snorted. You turned to her and then back to him and even though you were still very much gaping, you were laughing now too. "Like, an actual 80s pornstache."

Pornstache had caught sight of his squad apparently and was making his way towards you and the closer he came, the less funny you felt about the whole situation.

Pornstache was attractive.

Maybe it was the hair. Maybe it was the swagger in his step, the fact that he was practically oozing confidence. Not that the others weren't, but he... well, you kinda couldn't look away from him as he approached. Maybe it was the moustache after all.

You hadn't ever met a man who could pull that off.

He shouldn't be allowed to either.

God, how was Nat working with all these gorgeous specimen? They should all be sued for looking like that. It was too much power in the hands of the navy.

Pornstache stopped short in front of you, a light grin on his lips, and someone - Jake perhaps? - let out a resigned breath.

"You're late", Nat said, crossing her arms like she always did when she didn't like something. His grin only widened.

"There needs to be someone fashionably late in every squadron", he chuckled, slipping off his sunglasses and hooking them into the collar of his shirt and if it had been up to you you'd have forced them back up on his nose because now you had to watch as he glanced from Nat to you and took you in. He was way too attractive to be eyeing you up like this.

Men like him didn't eye you up like this.

Especially not in yellow sundresses.

Not that the dress wasn't pretty. It was. And you weren't overdressed like you'd have been in the black one that you'd had hanging at your closet door too. But it was kind of weird to be standing in front of all these testosterone-y men in a cute little dress like that.

Though Jake seemed to have liked it.

God, first him and now Pornstache...

"Rooster", Pornstache said, reaching out a hand for you to shake. "Or Bradley. But you can call me whatever you want."

You could practically hear Nat rolling her eyes as you shook his hand, brushing back a strand of hair that had fallen into your face as heat rushed through your arm and straight to your cheeks.

"What is it with you guys tonight?", she sighed, uncrossing her arms and grabbing her pool cue instead. She turned back to the table that she'd finished setting up and nudged Jake away to take his place, apparently at her wits' end and done with the conversation. Pornstache - Bradley - wasn't.

No, he was still looking at you and you still couldn't look away.

"So you're Nat's new roommate, I assume?"

You couldn't help but admire the way his voice sounded. If it already had you melting like this within two minutes of meeting him, you didn't want to imagine how you'd react if you heard it in the morning. Or late at night. Or close to your ear. Or- Wow, you really needed to fucking stop.

"Yeah", you choked out and cleared your throat as embarrassment set in. You shouldn't be thinking about Nat's colleagues like this. You shouldn't be thinking about anyone like this. You needed a drink and to cool off. God, where was Bob with those tequila shots? "Yeah, Nat's new roommate."

Bradley nodded, that damned grin still on his lips.

"But you knew her before?"

"Yeah", you said again, a little steadier this time. "Yeah, I've known her my whole life."

You should stop saying 'yeah' that much. It was making you sound like that was the only word you knew. Yeah.

"Really?", he asked and raised his eyebrows, glancing at Nat who was now leaning over the pool table and taking her shot, totally concentrated. "She never told us, just said she was introducing us to a friend who's recently moved. If you've known her that long, she could've introduced us back at Top Gun."

"You went to Top Gun with her?", you asked, raising your eyebrows to look at Nat too. "She never told me."

"Seems like she didn't tell us much about each other", Bradley said and somehow, he seemed rather amused by it - his lip was quirking up and his moustache followed and you felt like that should rather be funny than attractive. Shame that it wasn't.

Before you could say anything more, Bob came back with a tray in his hands, balancing a bunch of glasses. He barely seemed to notice Bradley, too focused on not letting anything fall and shatter.

"Tequila or mojito first?", he asked. Nat straightened up and grabbed the two shot glasses from the tray.

"Tequila", she said, back to at least a half-grin. "Thanks, Bob."

She gave one to you and clinked them and the two of you downed your shots like you'd always done - one big sip in sync, heads thrown back and glasses practically touching your noses and laughs on your lips when you put them down again, with just a bit too much fervor on Bob's tray.

"Now the mojito", she chuckled, taking the cocktail glasses next and handing you one again.

"You ladies seem to be enjoying yourselves", Jake suddenly said, leaning against the pool table with that grin on his lips but somehow, it was tighter now and his voice was a little strained. Maybe it was the tequila just blurring up your senses for a moment. Maybe your perception was fucked.

"Have to", Nat grinned and winked at you. "After all you lot aren't any help."

Bradley and Jake started protesting like she had somehow insulted their honour, but she only laughed and turned back to the game, already taking a sip of the cocktail in her hand. You followed her example.

Bob carefully sat down the tray on one of the chairs and picked up the nut mix again. You couldn't help but smile. It was somehow endearing, the rest of them sipping beer and drinks and him just popping nut mix into his mouth like a grad student.

"So, Sunny", Jake said, suddenly so close again that you could smell his aftershave. "Your turn."

You glanced at the pool table and raised your eyebrows. You should probably say no, thanks, I can't play, goodbye and leave it be. Leave him be. Nat would probably prefer if you did. She'd probably prefer if you turned around and joined Bob and made friends with her backseater instead of let Bagman, like she so affectionately called him, teach you how to play pool. But he was an attractive man and you were only human and anyway, you imagined you'd have enough time left to talk to everybody else. So you looked up at him and his impossibly green eyes that you couldn't get over and took the cue out of his hands.

"Only if you teach me", you said, stopping short at the end to ponder if maybe, just maybe.... So you grinned and added "Bagman" and watched his face fall for a second as you pushed past him and tried to make sense of the pool table.

Alright, so there were nine balls in different colors and if you were right, you were supposed to push them into the pockets in the corners and at the sides. Right? But that couldn't be it. It couldn't be that easy.

Jake had apparently restarted his original train of thought and turned around to you, his chest almost - just almost - pressing into your shoulder.

"I was planning on teaching you, Sunny", he chuckled, straightened and turned a little more serious. "A'ight, it's actually quite easy once you got it. So we've got ten balls in total and your goal is to pocket the nine colored ones. But you're only allowed to strike the cueball, the white one. With me so far?"

"So far", you nodded. "So basically I have to like, hit all these other balls but just with the white one and not with the cue? And if I pocket the cueball then what happens?"

"That's a foul", he explained patiently. Honestly you hadn't expected he'd react so well to dumb questions. "If you pocket the cueball, your turn's over and the other player-"

He stopped short. You were just about to ask if he was alright when you heard it too.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

The music was gone. Completely gone. Someone had turned off the jukebox.

"Every fucking time", Jake muttered, running his hand over his face as you looked at him and frowned. You were missing something major here and honestly couldn't think of what. But then Nat put down her cue and her drink and maneuvered around Jake to pry your drink from your hand as well.

"You're gonna wanna see this", she chuckled, one of those rare, all-consuming grins on her lips and you could hardly do anything but stumble after her as she made her way through the crowd. You didn't think anything could have prepared you for the next five minutes.

Because okay, Bradley was sitting at the piano. Okay, Bradley could also play said piano. And okay, Bradley could sing as well. And just maybe he really wasn't bad. Maybe he was really, really good.

Maybe Nat thought the same because you hadn't seen her that carefree in a while. Maybe everyone did - almost everyone, at least, because almost everyone was laughing and singing along and having the time of their lives. Maybe you did too.

No, you definitely did too.

Bradley had popped his sunglasses back up on his nose and was clearly enjoying being the center of attention for a minute. And you couldn't help but be completely enamoured by it. By him. You couldn't help but laugh along with Nat and let her twirl you around and sing, too loud and probably much too off-key, and fall from Bob's arms into Fanboys and you really couldn't help but somehow feel like a part of the group.

And then the song was over and you were panting, your cheeks hurt from grinning and you had to brace your palm on the lid of the piano to not fall over.

Fanboy's arm was still wrapped around your shoulder somehow and you didn't know if you were leaning on him or if he was leaning on you, but it didn't really matter. You were glad now that you had chosen that summer dress - it was light and breezy and you didn't have to worry about sweating through skin-tight fabric or anything like that. No, you just had to sweep your hair out of your face and throw your head back and laugh.

And look at Bradley, maybe, whose eyes were twinkling with amusement. He looked straight out of a fever dream. His sunglasses lay abandoned on the piano lid - he had really pretty eyes. How had you not noticed before?

"Is this like a regular show you pull off?", you asked, a little breathless as Fanboy untangled himself from you, the conversation the rest of the squad was starting up now fading into background noise. You were running high on adrenaline, the tequila was finally hitting your system, the anxiety was fully disappearing and because spirits were so high, your confidence came crashing back into you like a huge wave of relief that had you collapsing on the piano bench right next to Bradley. "'Cuz it seemed like everyone was quite used to that."

He chuckled, turning his head so he could look at you. He was tall, you realised, really really tall, at least taller than you by a head and you didn't know if it was this apparent because you were suddenly sitting or just because you were suddenly so close to him. Not that you wanted to complain either way.

"Let's say it's not the first time", he smiled. You raised your eyebrows.

"i'll ignore that you're deflecting for now", you laughed, not quite caring that he was deflecting at all. (You were pretty sure you knew the answer anyway.) "And instead I'll say I'm impressed. I've always admired people that can play."

"Do you play?", he asked, genuinely interested, drawing his hands back from the piano as the jukebox started up again. You had to say you'd liked the live music a little better. A little a lot. After all, Bradley Bradshaw was a sight to behold.

"No", you said. "Not anymore. I played... Well, I kinda had lessons back when I was little, but my family- Yeah, no, I don't play."

You swallowed and he raised his eyebrows, but luckily didn't comment on your stuttering. You really didn't need to traumadump on people you'd met half an hour ago. If it had even been half an hour. (It probably hadn't.)

"I could teach you", he offered and maybe you were wrong, maybe you were stupid, maybe you were tispier than you'd thought but you could've sworn that just for a moment, he glanced down at your lips - but you probably were wrong and stupid and tispier than you'd thought.

"Slow Ride."

You looked up to see Jake leaning against the piano, a beer bottle in his hand and a forced grin on his lips, entirely focused on Bradley next to you.

"Bagman."

You glanced back and forth between them as they stared at each other in silence.

Maybe you shouldn't be here. This felt like you really should not be here. Were you missing something? You'd thought that the squad was like one big family. These two seemed more like they were about to rip each others throats out and you didn't know if you wanted to be in between them when it inevitably happened.

"So you're back in showbiz, I see", Jake chuckled, putting his beer down on the piano lid.

"Some people can actually make it there, whether you believe it or not", Bradley shot back, his eyebrows raised and his lips still twisted into that grin that you were pretty certain was an act in itself.

Jake let out a dry laugh.

"Maybe you should change career paths", he suggested. "Actually do make it somewhere."

"Maybe I should leave", you muttered, already halfway off the bench and on your way to down the mojito Nat had left on the pool table, just to get out of whatever this was. Even though whatever it was came closer than anything else had so far to what you'd expected, it threw you off track more than the rest had. You needed a minute. And you needed a drink.

"Don't worry", Bradley said, turning back to you after throwing a last glance at Jake. "Bagman's gonna go now."

"And leave the poor woman with you?", Jake chuckled, straightening up with a grin. His beer bottle clinged against the wood. "I don't think so."

Having the both of them stare at you had your skin crawling.

That confidence that you'd had earlier? Gone. The anxiety you'd thought you were done with? Back. Fun! Where was Nat to get you out of this? Where was Nat when you needed her? You should've listened to her and kept away. You should've sat down next to Bob and had a pleasant conversation, but no. No, you had to find the two troublemakers of the team and get right in between their little quarrel.

"I was about to teach the poor woman how to play piano", Bradley said, eyes still fixed on you.

"Really?", Jake asked. "Because I was about to teach her how to play pool."

He raised his eyebrows and Bradley did too and they were looking at you all silent like they expected you to say something now and oh god, what had you got yourself into?

Two of the most gorgeous men you'd ever seen - to your great dismay - who were friends, no, colleagues of Nat's, who flew multi-million-dollar aircrafts and spent their days saving the world, looking at you and flirting with you and... flirting with you.

Nat had been right, no matter how this would work out.

You'd really needed to get out of your bedroom.

...

So you've tripped and fallen right into a love triangle, it seems. What are you gonna do?

a/n: this somehow didn't really turn out the way i wanted but i dont mind? like, im quite happy with how it did turn out tbh!!!! and im so excited to finally publish this chapter ahhhhhhhh lets see what happens!

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Tags :

bradley bradshaw x reader jake seresin x reader top gun x reader bradley bradshaw jake seresin hangman x reader rooster x reader

308 notes View Post

lovesleclercs

1 year ago

SO CUTESY AND FUN!!!

Barbie Girl 💄 | Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin Imagine

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

TGM Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

—————————

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

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

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

“Hi there, Bob!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Sir.”

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

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

“What did you say your callsign was again?”

“Barbie.”

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

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

Better known to its flyers as Top Gun.

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

Shoutout to Mac cosmetics for the sponsorship.

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

Being more qualified than your superiors had its perks.

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

“Is she wearing…?”

“How the hell did they allow that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bob rapidly blinks, “uh—.”

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

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

“Daytona 500!?” Payback practically screeches.

“You were on Broadway?”

“—featured on Vogue—?!”

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

“—How in the hell—.”

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

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

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

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

She waved at Reuben, “Hi Payback.”

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

“Hiya, Coyote!”

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

“Mornin’, Rooster.”

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

“Hi, Bob! Hi, Phee!”

And for some closer than others….

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

“Famous last words.”

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

“Yessss.”

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

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

“Barbie and Hangman?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m going to the moon!!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We love you!” The voices echoed together.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Something the matter, Lieutenant?”

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

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

“What about lunch this week?”

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

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

“I beg your pardon?”

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

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

“Are you done?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…………….

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

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jake seresin x reader jake hangman x reader jake seresin imagine hangman imagine hangman x reader top gun x reader

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campbellcorner

8 months ago

Fellow Top Gun Bob Floyd Enjoyers,, I got something cooking up Fr🧎 and I really hope you enjoy it when I post it tonight 🫣

Very tempted to give a sneak peak—

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bob floyd x reader robert bob floyd x reader robert bob floyd bob floyd top gun x reader

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