Faking It and Other Top Gun Stories - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Devil in Disguise - Jake Seresin

Summary: Based on a request from tumblr. Hangman fic based on the song "Cowboy Casanova" by Carrie Underwood. 

You try to discourage your friend from getting involved with the infamous Jake Seresin, but your counsel is pointless because this cowboy has other plans anyway.

CW: mild angst, drinking, swearing

WC: 1200+

.....

"Don't even think about it," you mutter, slurping on your strawberry daiquiri while you eye the smirking man from across the bar.

Your friend blinks at you innocently. "What are you talking about?" she says.

"Trust me," you warn. "You don't want to go there."

Your friend licks her lips and glances back at the man leaning on the jukebox, riffling through the various options. For as long as you've known him, Jake Seresin has always been riffling through options, musical and otherwise.

"He's going to rip your heart out," you caution, lifting the straw out of your drink and chugging the rest of it right from the glass.

"He's so beautiful." Your friend pouts.

"Yes, he is," you agree, setting your empty glass down while the pub starts to spin around you as if your bar stool is mounted atop a carousel. "He's also the devil."

Your friend laughs and you try to focus on her face with a stern expression. "You sound like you speak from experience," she comments.

You grimace. "Unfortunately."

"Don't worry," she says, rising from her seat. "I know what I'm getting myself into."

You grab her hand. "No, you don't. You think you're just going to have a fun night, no strings attached. You think you're going to be in control of the situation." Your tone is almost pleading now as you wiggle your friend's wrist. "He'll have other plans, babe. He's going to make you fall for him. You're going to fall so hard."

Your friend takes you by the shoulders, stabilizing you. "Y/N," she says. "Are you in love with him?"

You cringe, suddenly extremely nauseated. "God, no!"

"Then he's fair game, right?"

You wince. "You don't want to do this," you say, but your words come out a little bit slurred and you're not so sure that your message has been received. Because your friend nods at you and starts for the damn cowboy in khakis with his sunglasses hanging off the collar of his uniform. You groan and promptly turn away, not at all eager to see your friend hit it off with the man who has made the last six months of your life a living hell. You wave down the bartender and request your fifth drink of the night, but who's keeping count? Certainly not you.

You're almost finished your beverage when your friend returns with a giant grin on her face. "I'm taking off," she says excitedly.

"No!" you moan.

"Relax, not with Cowboy Casanova," she replies. "His friend, though!" She winks at you. You glance over your shoulder to see one of the other aviators smiling sheepishly at your friend as she gives you a quick hug. "You'll get home okay?" she asks in a hurry.

You nod. "Don't worry, I'll grab an Uber."

"By the way," she murmurs in your ear before taking off. "Pretty boy can't keep his eyes off you."

But she's gone before you can respond with an assortment of your favorite profanities. You down the remainder of your drink in silence and then stand to pull your phone out of your pocket so you could call for a ride. You've already got the app open when he strolls into your periphery and starts drumming obnoxiously on the counter with the tips of his fingers. You lift your eyes grimly and watch as he flags down the bartender while completely ignoring your existence. You try not to let your body react the way it always does in his presence, but you're already feeling your palms begin to sweat.