From the moment Rooster stepped into the bar, he was second-guessing his decision to come back. Phoenix had given him a warm welcome (before jabbing him harshly with a pool cue) and there were some nice enough new guys he had just been introduced to. However, before he could even grab his first beer, Hangman was already all over him with subtle jabs and sarcastic comments. Rooster couldn’t deny the man was an excellent pilot, but he was also a selfish, narcissistic, jackass who got on his nerves more than anyone else he had ever met.
And this opinion was only reinforced when Hangman looked down his nose at the rest of the cadets and asked, “Who’s gonna be team leader? And which one of ya’ll has what it takes to follow me?”
Rooster opened his mouth to make a comeback when another voice sounded from over his shoulder. “I don’t know, Jake. Last time I let you lead we almost ended up under arrest for flying in restricted airspace. Think you can do better this time?”
All eyes turned as another cadet strolled up to the group. Rooster didn’t recognize you but there was something about the way you carried yourself that made him take notice. Though not as intimidating looking as most of the guys in the room, you stood as if you owned the space and dared anyone to try and take it from you. But while that attitude seemed egotistical or arrogant on someone like Hangman, your half-smile and the gleam in your eyes teased a more playful side to you as well. Rooster sat up straighter in his seat, instantly intrigued.
However, he wasn’t the only one taking interest in you. Hangman’s eyes grew wide and a stunned smile spread across his face. “No fucking way. Livewire? Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were coming?” He dropped the pool cue onto the table and immediately scooped you into his arms. You squealed and laughed as he spun you around.
Fanboy nudged Payback as he muttered, “Dude, Livewire’s here? I thought she was on some top-secret mission overseas?”
Rooster leaned in so you and Hangman wouldn’t overhear as the two of you caught up. “Who is she?”
“She was the top of the class our year. Apparently, she and Hangman used to be a thing a few years before that. Since our class was the one directly after your guys’, he was brought up a few times and she sort of mentioned their past. Seems they were pretty serious at one point.”
Rooster looked over at you and Hangman, his arms still around your waist as you rested your hand on his chest. “And now?”
From the moment Rooster stepped into the bar, he was second-guessing his decision to come back. Phoenix had given him a warm welcome (before jabbing him harshly with a pool cue) and there were some nice enough new guys he had just been introduced to. However, before he could even grab his first beer, Hangman was already all over him with subtle jabs and sarcastic comments. Rooster couldn’t deny the man was an excellent pilot, but he was also a selfish, narcissistic, jackass who got on his nerves more than anyone else he had ever met.
And this opinion was only reinforced when Hangman looked down his nose at the rest of the cadets and asked, “Who’s gonna be team leader? And which one of ya’ll has what it takes to follow me?”
Rooster opened his mouth to make a comeback when another voice sounded from over his shoulder. “I don’t know, Jake. Last time I let you lead we almost ended up under arrest for flying in restricted airspace. Think you can do better this time?”
All eyes turned as another cadet strolled up to the group. Rooster didn’t recognize you but there was something about the way you carried yourself that made him take notice. Though not as intimidating looking as most of the guys in the room, you stood as if you owned the space and dared anyone to try and take it from you. But while that attitude seemed egotistical or arrogant on someone like Hangman, your half-smile and the gleam in your eyes teased a more playful side to you as well. Rooster sat up straighter in his seat, instantly intrigued.
However, he wasn’t the only one taking interest in you. Hangman’s eyes grew wide and a stunned smile spread across his face. “No fucking way. Livewire? Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were coming?” He dropped the pool cue onto the table and immediately scooped you into his arms. You squealed and laughed as he spun you around.
Fanboy nudged Payback as he muttered, “Dude, Livewire’s here? I thought she was on some top-secret mission overseas?”
Rooster leaned in so you and Hangman wouldn’t overhear as the two of you caught up. “Who is she?”
“She was the top of the class our year. Apparently, she and Hangman used to be a thing a few years before that. Since our class was the one directly after your guys’, he was brought up a few times and she sort of mentioned their past. Seems they were pretty serious at one point.”
Rooster looked over at you and Hangman, his arms still around your waist as you rested your hand on his chest. “And now?”
Both Fanboy and Payback just shrugged, and Rooster sighed. Anyone who would date Hangman probably wasn’t someone he was going to get along with. Any excitement he had felt when he first laid eyes on you quickly faded. It seemed as if you were going to be just one more person for him to butt heads with.
However, as the evening passed, he noticed you weren’t like Hangman at all. You reconnected with Fanboy and Payback as the three of you swapped stories of your time at Top Gun together. You chatted excitedly to Bob about his position at the Naval Air Station in Lemore and how he felt about being here. You and Phoenix had a hushed conversation that involved a lot of pointing and laughing at the male cadets. And when Rooster had settled down at the piano to play “Great Balls of Fire”, you were right next to him belting out the song at the top of your lungs.
Yet, it still came as a surprise when you came over to him towards the end of the night and smiled brightly as you said, “So, mister piano man. You’re the infamous Rooster, huh? Jake’s mentioned you before.”
Rooster gave you a tightlipped smile. “All good things I hope.”
“I wouldn’t say that. But I know how he gets so I’m not putting too much stock into it.” You laughed softly. “Besides, I’ve also heard about you from other people, and from what they say about your skills in a plane, I think it was just his jealousy talking. I can’t wait to see what you can do up there with my own eyes.” You smiled as you trailed your hand down his arm. “I’m gonna go grab another beer. Do you want one?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks.”
You winked at him. “Be right back.”
Rooster watched as you headed to the bar, leaning across it to get the bartender’s attention. He had expected you to be just as belittling and stuck up as your ex, yet not only were you being kind and supportive to everyone here, but you were admitting you recognized Hangman’s flaws instead of supporting them. Maybe you weren’t the person he thought you were.
When you returned, you handed him his beer and settled into the seat next to him. For a moment, the two of you just sipped your drinks in silence until Rooster finally cleared his throat. “So…. you and Hangman, huh?”
You shook your head with a soft chuckle. “I guess word travels fast around here. Yeah, we were together, but it was a long time ago. We met back when we were both at the Naval Academy and we started dating. But once we graduated, it only lasted a few months. Now we’re just really close friends.”
“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
You shrugged. “Everything was fine while we were physically together at the academy but as soon as we got separate assignments far away from each other, things sort of fell apart. I thought he was cheating on me, and he thought I was cheating on him. So, in the end, we just broke up. It was insanely messy. But about a year after that, we ran into each other at a Naval banquet, talked things out, and we’ve been close friends again ever since.”
“Wow, I’m sorry he didn’t trust you.”
You laughed. “Oh no, neither one of us should have trusted the other. We were both sleeping with a lot of different people.”
“What? Really?” Rooster stared at you in surprise, both at the fact you were a serial cheater and the fact that you would so freely admit that to someone you had just met.
You shrugged again. “We were both in our early twenties, traveling all over the world, meeting new people all the time and we were never in the same location together. Plus, we thought we were pretty hot shit back then.” You glanced over at Hangman and chuckled. “Well, Jake still thinks that.”
“And you don’t?”
“Nah. I got knocked down a few pegs when I was trying to show off on a mission. I almost got shot down and that would have compromised everything. Luckily, my wingman was able to cover my ass and he completed the mission for me. After that, it kind of sobered me up and I straightened out. That’s when I got into Top Gun originally and the rest is history. But I still have a wild streak every once and a while in case you were wondering.” You winked at Rooster as you took a sip of your beer, and he couldn’t hide the smile that spread across his face.
It seemed as if he might have judged you too quickly based on your relationship with Hangman. You weren’t like him at all. In fact, there was just something about you that was unlike anyone else Rooster had ever met. You were confident yet not cocky. Snarky yet not cruel. Intelligent yet not belittling. You were a mess of contradictions, and Rooster needed to figure them all out.
But before he could ask you another question, a voice cut him off. “Bradshaw! Are you flirting with my number one girl over here?” Hangman appeared at your side and threw his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in close to him.
You rolled your eyes and shoved him away playfully. “Oh, come on, Jakey. Calm down. We’re just talking. Don’t get jealous.”
“Jealous? Of Rooster here? I doubt it. Besides, I wouldn’t hold your breath with him. By the time he works up the courage to make a move, we’ll all be old and retired. Rooster has a tendency of waiting for the right moment even though it never comes.” Hangman narrowed his eyes slightly with a smirk.
But it quickly faded as you smacked his arm. “Well, who says I need him to make the first move? Or are you forgetting I’m the one who kissed you first? Besides, maybe I need someone a little more cautious and less reckless in my life.” You smiled at Rooster, but Hangman wasn’t letting it go.
He scoffed, “He couldn’t handle you. There’s a reason they call you Livewire.”
“Yeah, and there’s a reason they call you Hangman. So, drop it, Jake. You don’t have a say in what I do with my life anymore or who I become friends with.”
Hangman opened his mouth to respond, but Rooster cut him off. “Listen, I don’t need to be in the middle of whatever this is between you two. I just came here to relax, meet up with some old friends, and grab a drink before things start getting intense in the next few weeks. But since that doesn’t look like that’s going to happen anymore, I’m just going to head back to base. See you tomorrow.”
Rooster downed the rest of his beer in a single gulp then turned and walked out the bar, ignoring the arguing he heard coming from behind him.
However, he was only to the side of the building when he heard you calling after him. “Hey, Rooster! Wait up!”
Reluctantly, he stopped walking as you hurried to catch up to him. “Hey.”
“Thanks for waiting. Listen, I know there’s already some tension or animosity between you and Jake and I totally get that. Jake can be…. a lot. Well, more accurately, he can be an asshole.” You rolled your eyes. “But I’ll talk to him and get him to back off some. He’s just being a little protective over me because we still care about each other, and he just really doesn’t like you. However, from what I’ve seen tonight, you seem like a great guy. I just don’t want my friendship with Jake to sour the chance for us to get to know each other a little better.”
Rooster nodded softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “No, I wouldn’t want that. I like what I’ve seen of you so far too.”
You grinned, a playful glint sparkling in your eyes. Gesturing down to your outfit, you said, “If this is impressing you, just wait until I’m out of uniform. You ain’t seen nothing yet….. but I have a feeling you might soon. Goodnight.” You winked at him and slowly backed away, leaving Rooster standing there stunned and not quite sure what had just happened.
But as he stood there trying to figure it out, he realized he never paid you for the beers. Quickly hurrying after you, he skidded to a stop as he heard familiar voices coming from just around the corner.
“Hey, we need to talk.”
“Hey, Jake, what’s up? Is something wrong?” you asked.
Rooster carefully peeked his head around the side of the building to see you and Hangman standing close together at the edge of the parking lot. Hangman reached out and took your hand. “We need to talk about us. Now that we’re gonna be here together for the next month, maybe we could try working something out. Maybe this time-”
However, you cut him off with a sad sigh as you pulled your hand away. “Jake, just stop, okay? We both know that’s not gonna work. I love you and I will always love you. But…. I don’t think I can ever be in love with you again. And if you’re honest with yourself, I don’t think that’s really what you want anyway. You like the idea of us together, but the reality is so much different than the thought. We just don’t work as a couple. When we tried it again last year, we almost ruined everything we had built between us and I don’t want that to happen again. You were too jealous, I was too controlling, and it’s all because neither one of us really trusts each other after what happened the first time. We need to just be friends, best friends, but nothing more.”
“I know.” Hangman stared down at the ground, his hands shoved in his pockets. “You’re right. I do love you, but not in that way. Not anymore. I think I’m just afraid of losing what we have if you find someone else. And I do want you to be happy, really I do. But do you seriously have to go out with Rooster of all people?” Rooster’s head snapped to attention. Since when was that decided?
You must have had a similar thought as your brow scrunched in confusion. “Who said anything about going out with him? We just met tonight and all we did was talk. You were the one who brought up him making a move!”
“Yeah, but you like him, I can tell.”
Now it was your turn to look shyly down at the ground. “I mean, it wasn’t a long conversation or anything, but yeah, I do. He seems to know who he is, and he owns it. I like that. And I know you two have your differences or whatever, but if something were to happen between us, I’m not going to not see him because of that. I respect your opinion, Jake, but if I didn’t date any guy you had friction with, I might as well join a nunnery.”
“I’m not that bad!” Your ex scoffed.
“Of all the people here, the only people you like are me and Coyote. That’s it. And I heard you tell Coyote that he better not try anything with me. So, who does that leave me with?”
“Fine. I get your point. I’ll try to behave.”
You grabbed his chin between your fingers and squeezed it playfully before planting a kiss on his cheek. “That’s all I ask.”
Hangman sighed dejectedly. “But could you at least not try rubbing it in my face. I don’t need to see you guys making out or whatever in front of me all the time.”
“Oh, come on, Jakey! Don’t spoil all my fun! I was planning on sneaking in tonight and making out with Rooster on your bed. Then having sex with him in the cockpit of your plane in the morning.” Rooster knew you were joking, but he still felt his face grow red as he shifted, flustered at the mental image you had just created in his head.
Hangman pretended to gag. “Ugh! Don’t even make me think about that! Just…. don’t do that and I’ll deal with whatever else you want to do.”
You smiled and placed another soft kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, Jake. And I know seeing me possibly with someone else can be tough, so I will try my best not to flaunt anything that might end up happening between me and anyone else.”
“Thanks,” Hangman grumbled softly. Then he dug his keys out of his pocket and said, “It’s late and we have an early morning tomorrow. We should both probably get some sleep.”
“Good idea.” You took his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “It’s good to see you in person again, and I’m glad we’re able to go through this together, whatever this mission is.”
Hangman smiled. “Yeah, I’m glad too. But watch your back because that team leader spot is mine!”
“We’ll just have to see about that,” you chuckled. “Goodnight, Jake.”
“’Nite, Livewire.”
Rooster stared at your back as you watched Hangman disappear into the darkness. Then, without turning around, you called out, “So, now that we have his blessing, what do you think, Rooster? Dinner tomorrow night after our training? Just the two of us?”
Rooster froze as he realized you must have known he had been here the whole-time listening in. But you were still asking him to dinner so that was a good sign… he guessed. In a hesitant, yet excited voice, he said, “Yeah. I would really like that.”
And though you still didn’t turn to face him as you started to walk away, Rooster could hear the smile in your voice as you said, “Good. It’s a date.”
I might do a Part 2 for this if there is interest. So, let me know!
The first time Jake laid his eyes on you, it seemed as if everything else in the room faded away until you were the only thing left in his world. You were behind the bar wiping down the bar top, a cheeky grin on your face as you exchanged a few teasing back-and-forths with some of the other patrons. Jake had only been to The Hard Deck a few times before, but he knew you mustn’t have been working those days because there was no way he could ever forget your face.
There were a lot of beautiful girls in the town around the Navy airbase, but he had never seen someone like you. And as he walked up to the bar, all he could think about was how much more beautiful you were going to look later tonight in his bed.
You smiled as you saw him approaching and asked, “What can I getcha?” Your voice was sweet yet there was a playful edge to it that just drew him in even further.
Jake flashed you a toothy smile that usually had the ladies swooning and flustered. “How about your number?”
However, instead of seeming flattered as expected, you just rolled your eyes as your smile withered. “Wow! You know that’s the first time someone has used that line on me….. tonight. Unfortunately, that’s not on the menu. So, I can either get you a drink or you can make room at the bar for someone who actually wants to order.”
You stared at him for a long moment, and Jake could see you weighing all scenarios in your mind. But finally, you said, “You’re right. That did sound like another line. But damn it, it was a good one.”
Hello I’m actually swooning
(reading this helped a lot, thank you Vee)
Aww! Thank you Sam! I really liked this exchange so I am so glad you pointed it out!
And it means a lot to know this helped even in some small way
Jake paced back and forth in the control room as he frantically waited to hear your voice over the coms. He was supposed to be out there with you. He was supposed to be your wingman. But all because of a faulty compressor, he had been forced to return to the aircraft carrier almost immediately after take-off.
Ever since the two of you had met when you had been called back to Top Gun for a special mission, you had been close friends and trusted wingmen. When that mission was over, you both had been overjoyed to learn you had been reassigned to the same unit and your partnership could continue. And every mission you had flown together since had gone perfectly. Up until now and all because of that stupid compressor!
Jake scrubbed his hand across his face as he glanced over at the monitor. You were supposed to go dark as part of the mission, but not for this long. According to the plan, they should have reestablished radio contact 15 minutes ago. But there was only silence. And Jake didn’t know how much more of it he could take.
Suddenly, the comms crackled to life. “Control, this is Clover. Mission was a success, and I am on my way home.” A cheer went up through the room but as much as the sound of your voice sent relief flooding through Jake’s system, he could tell something was wrong. Your voice was breathy and there was a jittery, tense quality to your words.
Being my whump queen, I expected the worst. And as it progressed, I gotta admit you had me at the edge of my seat, muttering a soft ‘please… don’t’..
But oh God, that ending
“Yeah. I wasn’t there for you today, but I’m never leaving my wingman to fly solo again. I swear.” I’m swooning hard over here! ❤️
I mean, I do enjoy a cocky Hangman, but this softer side to him is just
I like to keep people on their toes! I am not above killing the reader-insert or any character, so you never know what you’re gonna get! But I’m not always heartless!
I also love cocky Hangman, but I do think he would be sweeter with someone he really cared about. Especially in a situation like this. I’m glad you liked it!
Jake paced back and forth in the control room as he frantically waited to hear your voice over the coms. He was supposed to be out there with you. He was supposed to be your wingman. But all because of a faulty compressor, he had been forced to return to the aircraft carrier almost immediately after take-off.
Ever since the two of you had met when you had been called back to Top Gun for a special mission, you had been close friends and trusted wingmen. When that mission was over, you both had been overjoyed to learn you had been reassigned to the same unit and your partnership could continue. And every mission you had flown together since had gone perfectly. Up until now and all because of that stupid compressor!
Jake scrubbed his hand across his face as he glanced over at the monitor. You were supposed to go dark as part of the mission, but not for this long. According to the plan, they should have reestablished radio contact 15 minutes ago. But there was only silence. And Jake didn’t know how much more of it he could take.
Suddenly, the comms crackled to life. “Control, this is Clover. Mission was a success, and I am on my way home.” A cheer went up through the room but as much as the sound of your voice sent relief flooding through Jake’s system, he could tell something was wrong. Your voice was breathy and there was a jittery, tense quality to your words.
Yet another great read!! I’m past the point of caring, I’m just here for all of this now. I’m already into him too, and I’m into your fics so it’s obviously a combination that works
I loved how he went like “oh shit she heard me”, but I looove those kind of love confession scenes❤️ perfect
Haha! Well I am so glad you are enjoying it even without context! Thank you for reading it!
And I also really love accidental confessions or “you weren’t supposed to hear that” confessions. I thought it would work really well here given the situation and his character so I’m glad to know it did!
jake “hangman” seresin x bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!reader (Doc) x robert “bob” floyd
You’re part of the new team prepping for the opening of Jurassic World. A former Army Medic, you’re head of the Medical Team on the island. You form a relationship with the Head of Security, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, the head of Public Relationship and the face of Jurassic World, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, and one of the youngest and brightest paleontologist currently in the field, Robert “Bob” Floyd. Can your team open a successful entertainment park filled with actual dinosaurs? Or will it fail - just like Jurassic Park?
word count: 7.9k+
warnings: established poly!relationship (m x m x m x f). fluff. smut: unprotected sex (p in v, p in a), oral sex (m and f receiving), hand jobs/fingering. violence. some gore. death.
note: this story starts with an established relationship. this also contains nick “goose” bradshaw. i am so excited for this series.
thank you very much to @a-reader-and-a-writer for helping me with the story and concept, but also for looking this over for me! ilu.
OMG!!!! This is amazing!!! The concept is so fantastic and you execute it perfectly! The interactions between all of the characters is excellent and the smut at the end? It was both insanely hot as well as tender and loving. I cannot wait to read what happens next!
Notes: Thank you to @loverhymeswith for beta reading for me! And a HUGE thank you to everyone who supported Part 1! The response has been amazing and it really means so incredibly much to me!
Rooster… It had been a faint sound, feeble and hoarse, but he had heard you whisper his name across the coms. You were alive. For now at least. And Rooster was determined to do everything in his power to keep it that way even if that meant risking his own life.
He had seen the look of pain that flashed across your face as the missile that was aimed at his plane suddenly slammed into yours instead, and he had managed to catch a glimpse of your limp body as it hung beneath your parachute after you ejected. As much as he had screamed into the coms for you to turn on your beacon, as much as he kept insisting to the others that you were alive, part of him didn’t believe it. So, the second he saw your location beacon flicker to life on his radar, his heart leaped in his chest.
Now, as he ignored everyone’s incessant calls for him to return to the aircraft carrier, he was circling the area around your beacon. It seemed luck was on his side because, while he was unable to spot where you landed amongst the trees, he was able to find an old service road that had been recently cleared of snow. It wasn’t his best landing, and he knew takeoff would be tricky on the uneven surface, but at least it was something he could work with.
His engine didn’t even have time to sputter to a stop before he was out of the cockpit and jumping to the ground. The signal from your beacon had placed you not too far from here, but as Rooster sprinted towards the location, he saw no sign of you. A million thoughts spiraled through his head. Maybe you had been captured. Maybe the beacon had fallen off your suit and malfunctioned, turning on by itself. Maybe he wasn’t going to reach you in time, wasn’t going to have the chance to tell you….
But just then, he spotted something to his right. You were laying on your side with your back towards him, crumpled at the base of a tree with your parachute tangled in the limbs high above you. As he rushed to your side, he noticed your entire body was shivering but whether it was from the cold, the pain, or some sort of shock, Rooster couldn’t tell. Normally this fact would have worried him, but at the moment, he was just relieved for a sign that you were alive. As carefully as he could, he eased you onto your back, before gasping in alarm.
Watched Top Gun Maverick and shoutout to the group of teens behind me who just went “are hangman and rooster about to kiss or fight” “are they love interests” “are they flirting” welcome to the homoeroticism of top gun!
pairing. jake ‘hangman’ seresin x female pilot (cs majesty)! reader do not copy or plagiarise my work.
an.no one look at me. i know i said that blonde men don’t deserve rights but you know, opinions change and we move on. pls reblog and comment if this tickles ur fancy ok bye <3
synopsis.it’s always been easy to resist hangman’s charm – until one lonely night, when it becomes the hardest task you’ve ever had to complete.
warnings. 18+ minors exit stage left. swearing, sexually explicit language and description, forward sexual advances, female masturbation, spit as lube, almost being caught, male receiving oral, and public(ish) sexual acts. not beta’d. you copy my shit i’ll find out.
Fuck Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin – and you mean that in all of the possible ways.
Fuck him and his little cocky attitude. His attitude that borders on complete and utter belligerence. He’s ignorant. Full of himself. Freaking narcissus and you want to drown him in the river donning his reflection.
So why are you laying in bed right now, staring up at the ceiling, and all you can think about is him?
About him, and his arrogant slant and the way he’d flirt with you. Flirt all damn day if he could. Seemed like that anyway. Seemed like sometimes, he wanted you.
Like earlier tonight, at the bar – you swear, he wanted you. Dragged your body against his and danced with you. Whispered into your ear and touched you with a delicate, pointed touch.
Your subconscious swoops in and squishes the thought down: No way in hell Jake Seresin likes you like that.
But then again, why not? He likes all the other girls.
Why not? You think, as you lift your fingers to your mouth and spit into them, stuffing them under the elastic of your pants and spreading it over your aching clit.
Why not? You think, whimpering as you slide your wet fingers lower, pushing your pointer into your hole and god, you sigh, head pushing back into the pillow with your eyes clenching closed.
Why not? You think, as your slick coats your finger, squelching around the digit in the silence of the night.
Hangman’s saying dance with me into your ear again. He’s patting your hip as you drag your finger against your clit, and he’s resting his crotch against your lower back just as you push up into the nerve, rolling – slowly, gently – a sigh of relief hushing out of your lips.
I’ll walk you back to your dorm, he’d said, and you’d thought about opening your door and taking him with you.
You can’t fuck him.
Can’t, and you shake your head at your white ceiling, thinking, I can’t fuck Jake Seresin, as you speed your fingers up, whimpering, now. Think, I can’t fuck Hangman, can’t fuck my teammate, but it’s the only thing you can think about.
Think about taking his vest top off, letting you see the lines and scars there, and the little tuft of hair near his belt that you’d seen at the beach one time. Think about climbing on top of him and unbuckling his belt, hearing him groan as you tugged his pants down and pulled him, hot and hard, from out of his boxers.
You imagine how big he’d be.
Imagine him whispering your name as you leaned down, spitting onto the head of his leaking cock, and using it to rub at him, coating him in your salvia. Seeing the little slither of come that’s already leaking from him. Tasting it, too, as you take him into your mouth.
“Jesus,” you whisper, hitching your hips up into your hand. You have to kick the duvet off, body burning hot, now, and the cool air hits your wet cunt, adding to the feeling building at your groin as you press harder.
Couldn’t bring anything with you to the Navy, so you had to settle for your hand, but you’d gotten good at it, at this point.
Not the first time you’ve got yourself off to the thought of Hangman, not the first time you’ve spread your legs and stuffed your spare hand against your mouth to stifle the sounds that start coming out.
“Fuck,” you sigh, biting down onto the skin of your palm. Then, “Oh shit,” you huff, as your fingers slip, pussy dripping.
You catch the right spot eventually, pressing hard enough, moving in tight, controlled circles and it’s got you whimpering. Got you spreading your legs wider and imagining Hangman slotting himself between them, pushing your hand off and saying, lemme do it for you. Kissing your mouth, mumbling, you’re soaking, baby, this all for me?
He’s right next door.
You move your hand off of your mouth and he’s hearing you say his name.
He comes in and he’ll see you nodding, going please, as you fidget, grinding your pussy against your hand, throwing your head back.
Your eyes meet the wall you both share, just as the familiar feeling starts to spread over your back, under your thighs and across your groin, dialling down to your clit, and you carry on, carry on rolling it under your finger until it hits all at once, and you’re yelling “Fuck!” before your hand is coming out and slamming against the wall.
The shared fucking wall.
You gasp. A quick, sharp sound, then your orgasm is hitting you, causing you to clench and whimper, hand covering your mouth again. It’s cut short, because you’re too busy panicking, twisting your body around to stare at the wall.
You freeze, body aching, waiting for footsteps and his door to slam closed.
You ignore the throbbing between your thighs – the feeling you never got to fully feel because you’re stupid and reckless and…the sound of footsteps fills your ears.
You wait, eyes wide at your wall. Try to picture Hangman moving across the floor, try to tell yourself that he’s just getting up and moving, but then – his door closes.
“Shitshitshitshit,” you curse, jumping up from your bed. Spinning around wildly, you have about two seconds to find your underwear before he’ll be knocking at your door.
Finally, you find them, and you tug them up to your aching thighs, the friction making you hiss as it hits your sensitive heat. But you have no time to think about it, as Hangman’s knocking at your door.
“Majesty?” he asks, tone sleepy and concerned as he uses your call sign. “You okay?”
You snap the band about your waist and look around for your trousers. They’re nowhere to be seen. “Maj?” he knocks again.
“Fuck,” you spit, throwing your hands up. You grab the handle and yank the door open, trying to hide behind the wood. He’s shirtless. Sleep trousers handing around his hips and the lines are there, the hair, trailing down under the fabric.
“You good?” he asks. You snap your head up to his face. There he is, with his swollen lips and eyes and his hair, standing up in blonde tufts. You have to clench your thighs together, swallowing down the sound that whispers out of your mouth by grabbing onto the side of the door – digging your nails into the wood.
“You hit my wall,” he says. He sleepily itches his lower stomach. You have to push your bare, wet thighs together tighter to stop the ache from growing. “Did I?” you innocently question.
Yeah, you did – when you came by thinking about him fucking you, but no biggie.
“Yeah,” he laughs, mindlessly itching his fingers lower. You give yourself a second to glance at them, then begrudgingly pull your eyes back up, briefly smiling, trying to soothe the throbbing between your legs, your orgasm ruined and now, here he is.
You watch his eyes flick to your ajar door, and he frowns. “Must have done it in my sleep,” you shrug. He’s not listening though. He motions to the door. “You got someone hiding in there?” Confused panic fills your heart. “What? Who?” “You’re hiding behind the door,” he explains.
“Oh, well, I’m not…wearing pants.” The cool air is fluttering at your legs, at the damp that’s drying. Hangman glances down at where your legs would be. His eyes go dark for a second. “Oh.” “Yeah.”
He awkwardly plays with his fingers. “Hey, um. I’m sorry if I was…too forward, earlier.”
Oh, that is not what you expected him to say. Is he still drunk? Hangman has never apologised to you. But, no, he looks and seems perfectly sober as he starts to do that mindless talking thing that you like so much. “I was lying in bed, and I just thought, thought about it and I—"
The hand that was at his bare chest moves to his neck, and as he nervously itches there, you see his arms stretch, bicep curling.
“It’s okay,” you quickly soothe, trying to get him to leave. Jesus, his pants are low. You’re trying to be subtle with your glances, but you’re gawking, staring at the lines and his tan and…is that?
He gears up to talk again, but you’re shutting him down, putting your hand up and shaking your head. “Hang, honestly, you’re good. I didn’t…” you have to pick your words carefully. “I didn’t think you were too forward.”
Hangman visibly relaxes. His broad shoulders loosen, and the tense tick that was throbbing in his jaw -disappears. You conclude that he’s tired – he’s acting different, nice because he’s tired. Then guilt hits you again – you woke him up.
“Okay, good,” he smiles, then pats his chest and nods to you, “you have any more nightmares, just knock, okay?” “Nightmares?” “Your hand hitting my wall.”
“Oh!” you exclaim, and you let go of the door, forgetting that it was hiding your bare legs and underwear from view. Hangman gets a good look before you grab it and yank it back. Blood-coloured blush blooms at his neck and cheeks. You give him a big, thankful smile.
“Sure thing, Hang.”
The next day, you can’t think straight. Keep on thinking about him, half-naked and waking up to your hand hitting his wall because you can’t control yourself. He’d been genuinely worried, too, and all because you’d come to the thought of him between your thighs.
When he left, you tried again. Tried to dispel the ache from your ruined orgasm – and seeing his bare chest and low-hanging pants – but it wasn’t working, so here you are, trying to clip your helmet with shaking fingers, tense and turned on, trying to ignore Hangman.
He looks especially good today.
Tanned and glorious, he looks brilliant in his green flight suit. Your eyes sweep down his form, taking in the gap of skin at the top, the roll of his shoulders as he laughs at something Fanboy says.
You get to his thighs, and your fingers slip at the plastic. “’ fucks sake,” you frustratedly spit. A concerned voice grabs your attention. Hangman.
“Need any help?” he asks, stalking towards you. Your eyes widen in panic, and you twist, saying, “No! – I-I got it.” “Yeah, sure you do Maj, give it to me,” and he’s pulling your hands away and taking the plastic before you can complain again.
Can’t look at him.
Can’t look up at him and see his tanned neck, hard jaw, and his stupid soft pink lips that you’ve grown far too attached to. You can feel his fingers, though. He hasn’t gloved up yet, so it’s the skin of his digits brushing under your jaw. He clicks the clip together embarrassingly fast.
“How’d you sleep?”
Oh, he’s being lovely, too. Unusually sweet. And here you are, staring down at the patches on his jumpsuit because you can’t look him in the eye. “Yeah,” you shrug, squinting at a random wall.
“Alright, up in the air in ten!” Maverick hollers; relief courses through you. You begin to walk away before Hangman can say anything else, but as you brush past him, he grabs your hand.
“Hey, Maj—” he starts, but you forcibly tug your hand away, making his face split and eyes widen.
“Whoa— “he starts, but you’re stopping him by pushing your palm out and shaking your head. “Just leave it.”
“Majesty, Hangman, come on!” Maverick yells, and you turn to see him motioning his hands out of the hanger. You go to walk towards him, but Fanboy is cutting in, “yeah, stop flirting.”
Panic seers through you. Despite actually wanting Hangman, you never wanted people to know that. You thought about last night, about how forward you were being with each other. You had hoped that everybody was far too drunk to notice, but…
“Hey, stop that,” Maverick spits, giving Fanboy a pointed finger. Hangman pipes up from behind you, “Yeah, fuck off and get onto the runway, dude,” and he says nothing to you as he brushes past you.
When you get back to the hanger, you dash your helmet onto the floor. Hangman follows you, his voice calling, “Hey, hey – what’s the matter?” but you ignore him, making a b-line for the changing room nearby.
Hangman grabs your hand again and the feeling of it shoots through you, zapping up your arm and across your belly. “Maj, hey, what’s up?”
You yank your hand away, frustration a beating fist at your skull. You explode. “Can you just fuck off for a second?”
It wasn’t meant to come out like that. Wasn’t meant to be as mean, but he keeps on touching you and your body can’t take it.
You couldn’t even fly straight, Jesus.
Landed the plane and Maverick asked if you needed medical attention. “I think she’s just hungover,” Bob had shrugged innocently, and he’d cowered back from the look of sheer rage you’d given him.
“You hungover?” Maverick had asked. “No, I’m not – I promise,” and you’d looked him in the eye as you said that. Repeated it, and said, “I promise.”
Your captain’s face had softened. “Hangman, take her to medical for me.” “I’m not—” you start, but Mav shut it down. “Somethings up with you. Both of you, go.”
You kick the door stop out of the wood and push your shoulder into the heavy changing room door, hoping it’ll slam and hit Hangman before he can get in. But he manages to get in before the self-locking door can close. Grabs your hand, again.
This time, he tugs you around so you can see him, “Okay, white flag – what the hell is going on?” he questions, but that feeling is there again and you want it gone.
You yank your hand back, “Stop – stop fucking touching me, Hangman! Always, always fucking — there! Dancing with me, knocking at my door, grabbing my hand and I can’t – can’t.”
Hangman freezes.
He stands there, watching you shake your hands and head at him, spilling out truths with a frustrated tone.
You slap your hands up, “I’m just. I’m just so fucking tense, I can’t…do anything! Since…” it comes out breathy and desperate, tinged with a sobbing sound. You’re so embarrassed that you have to turn around. You meet the locker and rest your forehead against the metal. Hangman is silent.
“So fucking embarrassing. How am I supposed to fly a plane when you’re just…just touching me, just there, just, Jesus.”
Well, you’ve said it now. Hangman stays silent though. He lets you have your moment. Let’s you wring your fingers out, breathing deeply against the cool metal of the locker as you calm yourself down. That’s when the guilt hits you. “God, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for I’m—”
Hangman cuts you off. He moves quickly, coming up behind you and this time, you let him move you. Let him slip his fingers across your hips and turn you around, your arms automatically going around his shoulders for a hug. You bury your head into the warm skin of his neck, smelling him. Hangman begins to rub your back.
“Shhh,” he soothes, and you do.
You relax against him, holding onto his shoulders, and your body begins to calm down until you imagine the light dusting of freckles he’s got there. You clench your eyes closed, hoping it’ll go away, but his body is warm and hard against yours, fresh from the fucking sky.
His neck is soft, though.
Soft as you get onto the tips of your toes and burrow your head into it, your fingers sliding into the buzzed hair at the bottom of his skull.
Hangman pushes his body into yours. Relaxes into it, his mouth blowing hot air against your ear, the shell of your throat. Soft, delicate, and warm. Caring, as he caresses your back with his wide palms.
Too bad you’re thinking about fucking him, though.
“God,” you groan, pulling away from his body. Hangman watches you in confusion – frowns at you as you wring your hands out, resting your head back on the metal behind you.
His hands are still wrapped around you. Slowly, he slides them around your waist. Your body warms to his touch, to his slow and delicate movements and he settles his palms at your hips and flexes his fingers, looking at you with his green eyes.
“Tell me what I’ve done so I can fix it.” You shake your head, saying, “I can’t.” “Why not?”
“Because it’s—” you start, before exhaling and scrunching your face together. How do you tell him that the problem is that he exists? He is a problem, just by existing. It’s fucked up. The guilt you feel is all-consuming. “It’s unfixable.”
Hangman laughs, “don’t be silly.” He pulls you back into him, settling his hands onto your lower back. Yours come up and flatten against his chest. His fingers are dangerously close to the top of your ass, and it makes you sigh, sound insulated by the fabric of his jumpsuit as you lean your forehead against his chest.
Then, they do slide lower.
Just an inch, but enough for it to be deliberate and you freeze, thinking he’s gonna pull back, but he doesn’t, just – stays there. Until he’s moving further and you’re clutching onto his suit.
“I thought you said it was unfixable?” he asks, mouth brushing against the top of your head. He squeezes fist fulls of your ass into his palms and you gasp, flexing into his body. He kisses your temple. “There’s an easy fix to this, sweetheart,” he boasts.
“Cocky asshole.” “Is this why you can’t fly straight? Too obsessed with me?” “Fuck off.” “You don’t want me?”
He hoists his body forward until you’re pushed flat against the locker, then pulls away from you, tugging your hips against his crotch by the grip he’s got on your ass. He looks down at where you connect, then glances up to your dilated eyes with a slow-moving grin. “I can’t leave you high and dry again.”
“Wha—” you start before he’s pushing his head into your neck, running his nose against your ear. Smiles and you can feel it spread across your skin like a fucking rash. You can feel him everywhere.
Consuming you.
Gripping you, locking you against him and god, his crotch is brushing against you, and you swear you’d be able to feel him if it wasn’t for the bulky suit he’s wearing.
“You know, I swore someone was with you last night. From how cagey you were being, knocking on my wall, opening the door looking so fucked out and in a daze. I went back to my room and thought, she wouldn’t lie to me. You and me, we got a good relationship going – you’d tell me, wouldn’t you? Tell me the truth?”
“I-I guess so.” “Yeah, that’s what I thought. So, when I got into bed, I thought about all the things you could have been doing.” The hand he had on your ass slides across your waist, flattening against your lower stomach.
He flexes his fingers, the tips of them hitting your crotch. All you can do is dreamily stare across the changing room, fingers holding onto his broad shoulders.
“and I concluded…that you’d been touching yourself.” “Fuck you.” “Is that what you were thinking about, fucking me?”
His hand completely lowers, sliding between your thighs and against your crotch. You gasp, fingers tightening on his shoulders as you clench your thighs together, trapping his hand there.
Hangman smiles against your ear. “You can tell me, sweetheart, I won’t judge.”
God, you think, shaking your head. You rest your face against his shoulder, sighing out, “You’re such an asshole,” and he laughs. Fucking laughs and slides his hands up, one hand resting at your hip, the other tugging at the zip of your jumpsuit.
“Lemme make it better,” he whispers, tone deep and heavy, the words brushing against your earlobe – at the delicate, heated skin of your throat – as his fingers pull at your zipper.
You gulp.
Swallow down the desire to agree, but it doesn’t go very far. Your back is aching from how you’re arching your hips into his chest, your body subconsciously drifting to his touch.
“No,” you whisper, shaking your head with a stuttering breath. You catch Hangman’s gaze. His pretty green eyes have gotten darker. “Can’t,” you manage to breathe, shaking your head.
Hangman stops.
He rests his fingers on the zipper, and they rise with the swell of your chest, your breathing coming out in long, deep inhales. There’s tension in your body, waiting to be snapped.
Hangman gazes down at you.
His lips are a soft pink under the shine of the evening sun coming in from the slither of a window near the ceiling. His hair a golden blonde, bleached brighter in some strands.
You don’t want him to stop.
Hangman. Arrogant, cocky Hangman who can get any girl he wants has gotten you. What a cliché.
“I won’t tell anyone – I promise,” he gifts, and God, you know he wouldn’t, but he knows that you need to hear it. “I promise,” he goes again, teeth tugging at his bottom lip.
You watch as he looks down at where your bodies meet, green eyes fluttering over that skin of your neck that he’s revealed. He looks back to your eyes, his stare waterlogged.
You don’t stop him when he starts pulling at the zipper again.
“I promise. Just wanna release the tension, okay?” Hangman whispers, pushing his forehead to the side of your throat so he can watch his hands move. You nod, chest shuddering as the zip dips lower, stopping just below your waist.
“Don’t like seeing you upset,” he mumbles, and it pricks at your heart just before his big palms are pushing the fabric open, revealing the white vest top you’re donning. Spreads it wider and he can see the top of your underwear.
The cool air hits your chest, making your nipples harden and skin pimple.
“You wanna stop? You tell me and I’ll stop.” His lips brush against your throat as he rubs his hands together to warm them up.
“You just say the word baby,” he says, before his hands begin trailing down the fabric of your stomach, sliding towards your underwear. He catches your gaze just as his fingers pinch at the white band.
“Okay?” he asks, and he’s looking at you far too intently. For a second, that joking edge that he’s always got is gone – serious, now – and it’s overwhelming. Makes it far too real for you. Too intimate. So, you grab at his jumpsuit and pull his mouth to you – your kiss his answer.
You’re somewhat thankful that you chose this route, as you have no time to be nervous before his hand slides across your underwear, a skilled finger trailing the line of your damp, clothed slit before pushing at the bundle of nerves at the top.
Your mouth opens against his mouth, a startled sound spilling out. Your eyes blink open, and Hangman’s grinning, eyes alight as he oh sooo slowly circles it just once.
Your head rolls back against the lockers.
“There?” he questions, and fuck him because yeah, it is. Usually, it would have taken a little longer to get you going, but your body has been begging for this for about 12 hours now. When you don’t answer, he does it again – adds a bit more pressure – and you nod, lips twisting into a pout. Hangman grins stupidly.
“Aww,poor thing,” he teases, “look at you.”
He’s annoying you, so you try and push the feeling away, grumbling out, “shut up,” but he just laughs. Laughs, and starts to roll your clit in tight, controlled circles, making your eyes flutter closed as he sinks into a steady rhythm.
For a second, he’s quiet, as if he knows you’re focusing on the feeling, body warming up to his movements and god is it. The warm sensation builds across your aching clit, swelling towards your thighs.
He pushes harder, adds more pressure, and makes your eyes shoot open as you desperately grab at his arm. Turns out he’s been watching you the whole time. Been eyeing the way you take it, the way your body reacts to him.
If Hangman was arrogant before, shit, watching you react to him – he’s a god damn king.
When he slips his hand away, you open your mouth to interject. But instead of making a noise, you watch him spit into his fingers and slide it under the band of your underwear, spreading it across your swollen clit and fuck, you lose it.
Your body jolts into his palm – the contact needed, as if you’ve finally reached god damn nirvana. If you tell him that, the feeling will go straight to his head, but you say it in less than a few words anyway. “Please,” you breathe, resting your forehead on his arm. You immediately blanch.
“Please?” he teases. He tuts at you, and shakes his head, feeling you clench his arm tight as he starts swirling his finger quicker. “I don’t think you’ve ever said that word to me.” “D-don’t—don’t ruin this by talking.”
The laugh that comes out of Hangman’s mouth rattles against your chest. “How are you still being rude to me?” he asks, pressing his finger tighter for good measure. Your body crumbles and shakes, nails biting into his wrist.
“I’m too – too good at it to stop,” you say, and stretch your head back against the lockers, looking up at him from between your lashes with a dazed, innocent little smile.
Hangman’s face changes. His eyes go a tad darker, and he fumbles his finger for a second before finding his rhythm again.
“I still don’t like you,” you whine, dropping your head forward again and stuffing it into his shoulder. He laughs, searching for the sweet spot at this new angle – he knows he finds it, because you whimper and gasp into his shoulder, rocking your hips up to catch more of the friction.
“You don’t have to like me,” he explains, before brushing his mouth against the side of your head, “just let me do this for you.”
“You like me or something, Hangman?” He snorts, “you’re delusional, Maj. Just don’t wanna let these skills go to waste.” “You’re – you’re obviously, not that good, cause I’m still – talking.” “Is that a challenge, Majesty?”
“Mmm-hmm,” you hum, trying to quell the sounds that want to come out. “You want me to fuck you, is that it?” he asks, tone deep but tinged with a mock sort of tease that’s got your body all tingly. “You want me to fuck you against this locker, huh?”
“Shit,” you curse, nodding your head, mouth opening on his shoulder and god, you’ve made a wet stain on his jumpsuit with your saliva – from biting down on it. He’s too good at this. Or you were more turned on than you thought you were – either way, you’re fucked.
Body rutting against his hand and you’re talking as if that’s not happening, acting as if you don’t want it even though you’re burning up, clit aching, a white-hot feeling burning at your pussy and Jesus it’s been what? 5 minutes? Wow.
“No, when I fuck you, I’m gonna do it nice and proper, okay?” and his voice drops to a low, croaky tone when he whispers, “ruin you for every other guy.” “Hangman,” you whine, shaking your head no, then nodding your head yes.
You tug at his chest, grinding into his hand. “Please don’t stop, please. I’ll never talk to you a-again if you stop.” He snorts. “Wouldn’t that be a treat?”
You whine again, and he must hear how much you need it because he’s shushing you, saying, “okay, okay, okay. Shh. I’m only teasing.” He speeds up, using two fingers now, making you weep against his chest.
You’reso close, just whimpering and moaning against him, and Hangman’s loving it. “I think I like hearing you beg for me.”
“S-Shut up.”
“There she is. I knew she wouldn’t be far away.
“Jake,” you whine, nodding your head against him, tightening your fist around his aviator suit, and tugging at it, mouth sobbing into the patch with his call sign on it and fuck.
You’d used his real name.
Hangman is oddly silent. Then, something inside of you switches and suddenly, you don’t care. Your skin goes white-hot and tingly, body tense and begging and in your cloudy mind, you realise you’ve switched over. Gone all soft and malleable and it’s not funny anymore – it’s real.
It’s Hangman making you come in the God damn changing room and he’s mouthing at your temple, saying, “I got you, I got you, Maj. I always got you, you know that don’t you?”
“Yeah,” you sob, agreeing because you do know that. Been flying with him for years now, of course, you know that.
The thought makes you soft, makes you reach up and kiss him, sloppy tongue and teeth and he groans into your mouth, keeping with his steady, pressurised rhythm and god you’re gasping, whimpering, clenching around nothing as you fist his suit, crumpling the material.
“Hey, look at me,” he soothes. When you don’t look at him, he slows his movements, forcing your eyes open. His eyes are aflame. “I’ll do this whenever you want, okay?”
He could be asking anything right now and you’d say yes. But you hear him. Hear him and nod your head, kissing him, wanting nothing more. “Okay,” you sigh. You grab onto the side of his head, keeping him locked against you as you rut into his hand, the familiar heat building at the back of your throbbing clit.
Your body tenses up against him, preparing for the inevitable. “Hangman,” you moan, “I’m gonna.”
Your sentence ends there, as he nods, and says, “that’s it, that’s my girl. That’s my strong and smart girl, okay – I got you, I got you, let go, okay? let go for me I wanna watch I wanna see it.”
It hits you quick. Knocks the fucking wind out of you. “Oh fuck! —” you start before he’s ripping his spare hand up and covering your mouth, your sobs muffled behind the warm skin of his palm. Your own hands come up and hold his hand there, grinding your wet pussy against his palm.
He’s keeping it tense for you, keeping it locked and you use him, just rutting your shaking hips up and sliding your wet cunt against his soaking hand, hoping he sees how much you want this from how you’re riding it out.
When the shocks settle, the sensitivity seeps in. You loudly whimper, grabbing the hand that he’s got between you and gripping onto it, stopping his fingers from moving. He slides his hand away from your mouth too and fuck, your lips are swollen and covered in spit.
Silently, you settle back against the lockers, sucking in deep and calming breaths, and Hangman watches you. Takes in your fucked out, post-orgasm state.
Then, a giggle bursts from your lips.
It twists into a laugh, and you cover your mouth, giggling stupidly into your palm. “What?” he asks, smiling confusedly. You shake your head, feeling weightless, boneless – suddenly comfortable under Hangman’s watchful eye. The ache has settled into a dull throb.
“What’s so funny?” he laughs. You shake your head again, your laughter settling into a small giggle. “Nothing, “you genuinely reply. “I, um, sorry I get giggly after coming.”
“Oh—I thought you were laughing at me.” “No,” you soothe, smiling, before leaning forward and kissing him quickly. “If I was laughing at you, you’d know it.” Then you giggle again, reaching to zip up your jumpsuit. Hangman smirks, then squints an eye, “Okay, now I feel like you’re laughing at me.”
“I guess we’ll never know,” you joke, brushing past him to grab something off of the bench, but he takes your hand, spinning you into him for a big, deep kiss that surprises you.
You clutch onto his shoulders to keep upright.
He pulls away, words pushing against your lips. “I wasn’t kidding, about before – about doing this, whenever you need.”
“You wanna be fuck buddies?” you squint. Hangman’s cheeks heat up. He bashfully smiles, then shrugs, “just lemme know.” Then his mouth twists into a familiar, Hangman-esc smirk. “I got the magic touch.” “Oh, fuck off.”
