– In which a trip down to the San Diego Naval base to visit an old friend turns out to be more than a simple reunion, as the reader finds herself in the presence of an infuriating, cocky blonde and an old flame she thought had long fizzled out. –
Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader
Word Count: 3.2k
Contains: Bi!Natasha | Reader is old friends with Natasha “Phoenix” Trace | Reader has a past with Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw” | Reader has a lot of feelings about Jake “Hangman” Seresin
Warnings: lots of angst/fluff, explicit language, references to drinking/alcohol & sexual activity
A/N: Part six, y'all! Tag-list is at the bottom, go ahead and send me a message or reply to this post if you'd like to be added for future parts of this story. Most importantly, I hope you enjoy! <3 If you'd like to go back and read part 1, you can do that here. Or, read part 2. Or 3. Or 4. Or 5. Also, check out my playlists for the dynamic of each guy & reader, you can do that here: Hangman x Reader & Rooster x Reader
...
6:
Hangman wasn’t kidding. He is good. Very good.
His lips are at the hollow of your neck, peppering kisses across your collarbones and back up to your jawline. He pushes you back gently against the door of one of the small stalls you'd slipped into, bracing against it, grateful the room was empty. You moan softly, your hands yanking the hem of his t-shirt up so that you can splay your fingers across his bare back, his skin hot and sweaty. He hums into your skin as you toy with him, your fingers grazing up and across his back, mapping each inch of him, goosebumps rising in your wake. He sucks harshly at a spot just under your ear, his tongue soothing the area as he pulls away a moment later.
“How’s that for a souvenir, sweetheart?” he growls. Desire pools between your legs at the sound of his voice, deep and rough, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers. His hand replaces his lips, his calloused fingertips tracing across your new mark, his eyes dark.
You laugh, shaking your head. His eyes meet yours as you jut out your bottom lip, bringing his attention down to your mouth. He slides his thumb across your cheek, running the digit along your lips, encouraging them apart. You oblige, looking up at him, those green eyes drinking you in as you take his finger between your lips, rolling your tongue around the tip, sucking harshly. He moans, letting his head fall back slowly, revealing the soft skin of his neck, his Adam's apple prominent. You take advantage of the moment, releasing his thumb to lean forward and kiss his neck, letting your lips wander across his skin. As you do, your hands work at the hem of his shirt, undoing the final few buttons that remained. Pushing the fabric back from his shoulders and down his well-toned arms, you’re able to really appreciate his physique, running your hands across his chest, feeling the ripple of each muscle.
“Jesus, Jake,” you moan, pulling back from him, your eyes dropping to his abs. His eyes light up at the way your voice shakes as you say his name, your want for him music to his ears.
He clicks his tongue in quick succession. “It’s rude to stare.” He smiles, one so smug that if he wasn’t standing shirtless in front of you, his hands on your hips, you’d quite enjoy smacking it off his lips. But this version of Hangman is undeniable, you’d do anything he asked if it meant you’d get to feel his body on top of yours.
“Let’s make it even, then.”
You toy with the hem of your top, but Hangman quickly replaces your hand with his, easing the fabric up and over your head. He exhales at the sight of you, a light moan escaping from the back of his throat as his eyes rake over your chest. You lift your hand to his chin, tilting his head back to look at you. “It’s rude to stare,” you whisper.
He groans and you laugh, pressing your body against his hotly, reconnecting your lips. He sneaks his hand between your bodies, his fingers brushing lightly between your legs. You inhale sharply, grinding your hips down onto his hand, desperate for more.
The creaking of the bathroom door opening echoes through the room forcing you and Hangman apart, the sound of footsteps across the tile floor getting closer.
Shit. You’d totally forgotten where you are, so caught up in Jake — and the tequila — any ounce of responsibility or logic gone from your mind. He stands dangerously close to you, his breathing labored, his cheeks flushed red, his desire apparent beneath his jeans. You were legitimately about to have sex with Jake Seresin. At the Hard Deck. In the bathroom. Your friends on the other side of the door. All because of Bradley. It’s a new low.
The voice hums a tune playing outside in the bar, all too familiar. It’s Natasha. Of course. Her feet pass by the stall on her way to the one next door. Your eyes meet Jake’s and he smiles, clearly getting a kick out of almost being found out. You shake your head at him, placing a finger on his lips at which he rolls his eyes. Your heart is beating wildly inside your chest, you couldn’t be caught: not here, not now, and not by Natasha.
It’s a mistake. All of this. Jake. Bradley. You scoot farther from Hangman in the stall, raking a hand through your hair as you wait to hear Natasha’s next move, her humming stopped. Her humming resumes as she exits the stall a minute later, the flush of the toilet echoing through the room. Her feet pass by the stall you’re hidden in and you let out a gentle breath, keen to hear the sink turn on and off, the ripping of paper towels and the door creak open once again.
There’s another beat of silence before you finally fully exhale, tilting your head back to rest against the stall door. She’s gone. Silently, you thank her for the interruption, for bringing your senses back to you.
A second later, Jake is back on you, his hands on your hips, his lips at your neck. “Now, where were we?” he asks, sliding his hand back around to your backside. You shrug out of his grasp, turning towards the door, your fingers working at the latch. He sighs something heavy, tugging his shirt back over his torso, his head hanging low.
“We can’t. This,” you say, pausing as you push the stall door open and turn back to him, “this was a mistake.”
He clears his throat, looking around the room then back at you. “I mean, the bathroom’s not ideal but I’ve tried much worse.” He smiles at a memory you can’t see.
“No, Jake, not the bathroom. This.” You gesture to yourself and then to him. “Me, having sex with you.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Ouch.”
“That’s not what I meant,” you sigh. “I just…don’t think we should do this. Right now.” You turn to make your way towards the door. You could find Natasha, catch a ride back to the base, and get some sleep. Everything would make sense in the morning.
Fucking tequila.
“Wait. Hey, are you okay?” Jake’s hand catches your arm, though, stopping you. Sighing, you turn into him, looking up. His brow is furrowed, his eyes scanning your face for answers. He looks – well – concerned. Kind. Something new for him. “If I crossed a line, I-”
“No, Jake, you didn’t. Not at all.” you cut him off. “ It’s just been a really shitty night, okay? I’m sorry I brought you in here, I should go.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s okay.” He loosens his grip on your forearm, but his hand stays in place. He moves his thumb across your skin, as if trying to comfort you, but he stops just as quickly, seeming unsure of himself. His eyes meet yours and he takes a deep breath. “Do you want to talk about it? We can get out of here.”
You don’t know what you want, so you just nod. You don’t want to think, don’t want to have to make decisions – you always choose wrong. So, you let Jake choose for you and hope you don’t regret it; the night couldn’t get worse.
Thirty minutes later you’re sitting on Hangman’s bed. His room looks just like Natasha’s, but it’s down at the end of the hallway, something you were grateful for as it let you slip in without drawing attention from or running into anyone else. You wouldn’t know where to begin if you had to explain the events of tonight to Natasha. Or Bradley.
You tuck your feet up under you as Jake digs around in his dresser for something. He turns around with a sweatshirt in his hands.
“In case you’re cold.” He holds it out to you and you take it, unsure of his motives. He shrugs. “I heard you’re collecting them.”
You laugh and turn the sweatshirt over in your hands, lifting it up to see the logo on the front. It’s strikingly similar to the ones Natasha and Bradley owned, but gray instead of blue. You hadn’t asked for clothes. You hadn’t asked for anything, really. The two of you had only exchanged a few words since leaving the Hard Deck. It felt nice, though, in a weird way, the silence. The night had been too much, too wild, spiraling out of control. Somehow, in all of it, Jake became the calm center you needed.
“This will definitely be a nice addition,” you say, laying the fabric over your lap.
He nods slowly, crossing the small room to where you sit and plopping down next to you. He leaves enough space between the two of you so that you don’t feel crowded. There’s a beat of silence. Neither one of you knows what to say or do, how you even wound up here, or how to proceed. You could slip out now and head back to Natasha’s room, but something keeps you rooted in your spot next to Hangman.
“Mind if I ask you a personal question?” he asks, the low rumble of his voice filling the room.
“Would it matter if I said I did?” you reply, turning your head to look at him. He looks cozy here, his rough edges softened amongst the fabric and pillows of his bed. This Jake is less demanding, less in-your-face cocky, but still as alluring as ever.
“What’s with you and Rooster?”
You suck in a breath, your heart dropping into your stomach. There’s another second of silence.
“Nothing.”
“Right.” He chuckles to himself and you glance at him, chewing on your bottom lip. You think about leaving it there, letting the lie live, but it’s clear that he’s caught onto something. Of course he has, no one could be that oblivious to you and Rooster. Except maybe Rooster himself. Oblivious to how much you wanted him even after all he’d done. Even still, now. But you’re here, with Jake. And it feels…good. After what you did tonight and the fact that he’s here, with you, when Bradley’s not, convinces you to come clean. You sigh and shift your position on the bed, turning to face him completely, crossing your legs.
“We dated before he got accepted into the Naval Academy. It’s been almost two years since we broke up – he broke up with me. This whole thing,” you point to the Navy logo on his sweatshirt, “was really important to him. More important than me.”
Jake’s eyes widen, then narrow, a line wrinkling between his brows as he listens.
“And here I just thought you two slept together the other night.”
“And here I just thought you were a totally oblivious asshole.”
He clicks his tongue. “You and Rooster are obvious. The sweatshirt exchange in the common room? The way you were all over each other tonight?”
“Yeah, that worked out well, huh?” you scoff. He looks at you, a question in his eyes. “He kissed someone else,” you clarify. “I was stupid to think us being together again would lead to anything. I got jealous. I was hurt. So, I lashed out.”
“And I was part of your revenge scheme, hmm?”
“Was it obvious?”
“You looked upset, so it wasn’t hard to put everything together. Plus, I figured you wouldn’t have changed your declaration against me so quickly without a reason.”
“Is the Hangman doubting his skills? His charms?” you tease. To your surprise, the conversation is easy – almost fun. Hangman’s easy to be around, even in a time like this. Even after abandoning your almost hookup. Even after confessing your past with Bradley. Even after what you now considered to be one of the worst nights of your life.
“You came onto me tonight, remember?” He fights.
You wave a hand in the air, dismissing him. “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“I think it turned into something rather nice,” he remarks, his eyes moving around the room and settling softly on you. “Most of my dates run out after the sex, so this is new.” He points to you sitting on top of his covers, fully clothed. You laugh.
“Dates? The illustrious bagman goes on actual dates?”
“I try, they don’t always stick.”
“Do they run or do you chase them out?” you question, raising an eyebrow. If you learned one thing during your short time on base it was that Hangman had a reputation. It’d been obvious from the moment he laid eyes on you that he’d been eager to do the same with you. He’d been relentless. It had been working. Shit, it might even be working right now.
Jake laughs now, shaking his head. “I just know I’m good for a night, not forever.” He slides a hand up over his shoulder behind his head, the muscle of his bicep on full display, straining underneath the tight cuff of his white t-shirt. Oh, he’s good.
“What makes you say that?” You lean forward. Something in you yearns to reach out and stroke his forearm. You stop yourself. You don’t know why.
He sighs. “It’s hard with all of this.” He shrugs and points to the Navy logo on the sweatshirt, just as you did a few moments ago. “So, it’s easier to just take it night by night. That way everyone gets a happy ending.” He winks, “pun intended.”
You smile, watching his hard, pretentious exterior fall away and then rebuild itself in the next second. You’d never really considered what life was really like for Naval pilots, you only knew what it felt like to be abandoned by them. You’d never thought about what it felt like to have to keep love and others at bay for the sake of work. Jake’s words send you into your mind, reanalyzing every moment of your relationship with Bradley. Maybe the two of them weren’t so different after all.
A hand waves in front of your face, bringing you back to reality. “You alright there?”
“Yeah,” you say softly, shifting in your seat, your eyes dropping to the floor. “Just tired I think.”
“Here,” he says, rising from the bed. He leans down and tugs the sheets back to where you sit. Tapping the bed with the flat of his hand, he looks at you. “Take the bed.”
You shake your head. “No, I’ll just go back to Natasha’s. She’s probably wondering about me anyway.” You push yourself up off the bed and stand next to Jake, taller than him for only a brief second before he straightens back up.
“Yeah, sure, right,” he breathes, his face falling. You’re not sure why. Did he really want you to stay? Did you? If you didn’t, perhaps you would have left by now. Perhaps you wouldn’t have come at all. But here you stand, a foot away from Jake, feeling pulled to him almost as if a string connects your chest to his. Is he feeling that same pull? He’s full of surprises tonight.
“But, she’s probably asleep by now.” You’re speaking before your mind has a chance to process, but you don’t stop yourself. “It might be easier if I just…stay.” You move your eyes from the floor to the clock then back to Jake, a lithe smile on his lips. Looking back down at the bed you say, “I can’t take your bed though.”
“Why not?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s your bed.”
“So? You’re sleeping in Phoenix’s bed.”
You shake your head. “Well, we’re friends. And we share. Seriously, I’ll just take the floor.”
He takes a step into you, the skin around his green eyes crinkling as his smile grows. “We basically had our hands down each other's pants about,” he pauses to glance over your shoulder at the clock, “an hour ago. I think we can share a bed for the night.”
Jake doesn’t wait for an answer, deciding to just jump into his routine. He takes a step back from you and lifts his shirt up over his abdomen and shoulders, sliding out of it with ease. He tosses the shirt across the room where it lands in a hamper. A blush crawls across your cheeks as he then moves to slide the pants he’s wearing down his legs and steps out of them, tossing them in the same direction as his shirt. He's left standing before you in nothing but a pair of boxers. You consider turning away but stop yourself, remembering that he was right — you’d done things (or almost did things) more intimate than this. He slides into the bed between the covers and rolls onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow, looking from the empty space next to him up to you, his eyes questioning.
“Close your eyes,” you say, pulling at the hem of your top hesitantly. Hangman groans, flopping over onto his back, his hand covering his eyes. You quickly unclasp your bra from behind and pull it out from underneath your shirt, dropping it to the floor. Undoing the button of your pants, you slide the fabric down your legs and step out of them, the breeze from the small oscillating fan in the corner blowing over your skin, goosebumps forming in its wake. Your shirt is the last thing to come off and you quickly dive into Jake’s sweatshirt, swimming in the fleece material.
“My god,” he breathes. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as you look back to him. His hand is still over his eyes, but his fingers are separated just enough to peek through. He drops his hand and smiles lazily, running his tongue over pink skin, wetting his lips.
You throw the shirt in your hands at him, nailing him right in the face. “I told you to close your eyes!” you laugh, closing the space between the two of you in a few steps, bouncing down onto the bed.
“Sorry,” he says, “old habits die hard.”
You slide between the covers and smack his arm. Jake laughs too, scooting over to make room for you. He closes that small space in the next second, his bare skin warm against yours and you gasp at the feeling. It’s not much different than the warmth of him back at the bar, but it takes you by surprise: how electric it still feels even without the tequila or the sexual charge.
“Don’t go changing for me, Hangman.” you say, turning your back to him as you shift onto your side. Part of you wants to turn into him, to snuggle in close to him, but you can’t. You shouldn’t. It would be dangerous to get any closer, to drop your guard any more. That feeling pulls at your chest but you ignore it, taking a deep breath and letting your eyes fall shut.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he chuckles. You hear the sound of the covers swishing as he adjusts his position, choosing to place his back against yours. “Goodnight,” he mumbles softly, reaching up to flick the lights off.
A/N: Ahhh I hope y'all liked pt. 6, it was super fun to write, to indulge in Hangman for a bit -- Hangman girlies this one goes out to you!! As always I'd super appreciate any thoughts if ya wanna leave them here or chat in my asks <333333
Rational brain: I’m glad we didn’t fuck hangman just to spite rooster. It was good that they got to talk about it instead. It was really sweet, actually, and it was good to have a genuine bonding moment between the two characters - the sweatshirt stuff was adorable 🥺
Horny brain: NOOOOO!! NO HANGMAN COCK?? NO HUNGMAN PEEPEE?? NO O O O 😭😭😭😂😂💖
Also man, I bet that “souvenir” won’t be mentioned ever again… lovely work as always 💖
-K
Hahaha I'm sorry to disappoint in the smut department, my dear K anon!!! But I'm glad you enjoyed their little heart-to-heart, that's smutty in it's own special, human connection kind of way!! & idk, that "souvenir" might be mentioned again...you never know who might see it 👀👀👀
