#Frat!Jake Seresin

[sweetlittlegingy]

Frat! Jake Seresin

I need to have this…. So much so, that I might fucking write it. He is giving me everything, I never knew I needed.

[demxters]

—LOVING YOU IS THE ANTIDOTE

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

dagger squad college!au

summary: you didn’t like jake seresin. you tolerated him. if you hadn’t befriended bradley bradshaw, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day. he was everything you weren’t. delta chi’s golden boy, popular, desirable, and a charmer. you did not like jake seresin. so why did it hurt when he didn’t want you?

wc: a monstrous 8.6k

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), mentions of sex/hookups, alcohol and drinking, weed (briefly mentioned), self deprecating thoughts, jake is lowkey an asshole, and language

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

Whoever said group projects got easier in college don’t know what they’re talking about. If anything, group projects were the bane of your existence—the reason why you considered dropping out every semester. Being in your third year, you were just barely surviving the group project epidemic. This semester, however, had you at your wits end. All because of a stupid assigned group project.

You had an affinity for being a perfectionist. You were all work and no play. While many of your peers thought it was infuriating, you saw it as your best feature. You got things done. You couldn’t say the same for everyone else. A stick in the mud, a hardass, whatever they chose to call you didn’t matter at the end of the day.

“I’m telling you Nat, they’re imbeciles. The entire time we were exchanging contact information, I thought my head was going to explode from the idiocy spewing from their mouths.” Sitting in the busy dining hall, you rant to your best friend Natasha Trace of the absolute horrors of group mates you’ve been given for this assignment.

You met Natasha at a student mixer in your first year of university. The two of you hit it off immediately from bonding over your tastes for cheesy romance novels and an overly concerning obsession for Dr. Pepper and Smarties. Since then, you two became thick as thieves and haven’t looked back since. 

“Maybe you’re being a little too quick to judge,” Nat counters, playing on the remaining peas on her plate with her fork. “You haven’t even given ‘em a chance yet.” That was Natasha for you, ever the voice of reason for your dislike of any person who wasn’t the three you were friends with. 

You roll your eyes and cross your arms across your chest with a pout. “If you met them, I bet you would be saying the exact same thing. Besides, they’re frat guys. Isn’t that reason to hate them enough?” 

“Why didn’t you lead with that? What’re their names? We can get Mickey to stalk them on Instagram or something.” Her eyes light up at the idea. She doesn’t even give you the chance to answer as she pulls out her phone, no doubt to text Mickey if he could do her a favor. 

Mickey Garcia was another one of those close friends of yours. You met him at a Halloween Party where he showed up dressed as Poe Dameron from the later Star Wars movies. Your affinity for Star Wars and a love for Oscar Isaac drew you to him, eventually earning him the affectionate nickname of Fanboy. You introduced him to Natasha and the rest was history. 

You swat at her hand, silently telling her to drop her phone. “No. We are not stalking them on Instagram.” 

The sound of her text tone going off makes you groan. “Too late. Mick already said he’d do it. So, what are their names?” 

You shovel another spoonful of mashed potatoes into your mouth before begrudgingly responding. “Bradley and Jake.” Their names taste like acid in your mouth. So what if you were being a little too quick to judge? You’ve done enough group projects to know this would end up being yet another you would be doing all by yourself. 

Natasha’s quiet as she types up their names and sends them back to Mickey. Barely five minutes passes when she receives a response back. “Is this them?” She shows you her screen and at this point, you’ve learned not to question how Mickey could have possibly found them in the sea of Jake and Bradleys that go to your university–let alone pick out the right ones. You nod and she laughs, scrolling through her phone before moving to the seat next to you. “What did I tell you? He found their Instagram, Twitter, and Tinder profiles! God bless, Mickey Garcia.” 

You push your head against hers, curiosity killing all resolve you had of not caring. The two of you go through their Instagrams and tagged posts like you were reading the morning paper. There wasn’t anything too surprising about them. It was everything you would expect from a twenty something year old guy in a college fraternity. You hated to admit, however, that they were attractive. You were probably too irritated in class to pay attention to how good looking they are. But that doesn’t dismiss the fact that you were still dreading to work with the two. 

“See?” You tell Natasha, motioning to the photo she has pulled up of Bradley on one of his fishing trips. “They are grade-A assholes. Everything about them screams douchebag.” 

“You gotta admit, they’re hot,” she breathes and you smack her on the shoulder. 

“Natasha Monica Trace!” 

Nat shoves you back before shrugging. “What? Don’t you agree?” 

“Of course I do, but may I remind you that looks do not equal brains.” You snatch the phone from her grasp and exit out of Instagram. 

Nat places a gentle hand on the crook of your elbow, noticing the tension in your body. “Just give them a chance, babe. What’s the worst that could happen?” 

_______

You didn’t think it was possible to be friends, let alone acquaintances with Delta Chi’s favorite heartbreakers. Three months and two parties later, you found yourself tolerating your fellow project partners. Then the impossible happened. Bradley Bradshaw and Jake Seresin proved your first impression of them wrong. Well, Bradley did. Jake was the preppy douchebag you suspected him to be. He sat back while Bradley and you pulled his weight. You hated him and his dimpled, Hollywood smile. You hated those lips that knew exactly what to say to get anyone in a three foot radius on their knees. Not to mention those annoyingly green eyes of his. 

Once the project was complete you thought you’d never have to interact with them ever again. Oh, how wrong you were. If only you hadn’t offered up your apartment to complete the assignment. Then they wouldn’t have met Nat, Mickey, and Bob. They wouldn’t have invited them to their stupid frat party. You wouldn’t have been forced to see them outside of scheduled study time and your friends wouldn’t have fallen perfectly in line with theirs. 

Though you will admit, they weren’t all bad. Surprisingly, you actually appreciated most of their company. Underneath Bradley’s frat boy personality, was a secretly brainy political science major and one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. His other friends, both from Delta Chi, also became fast additions to your little group. Javy Machado and Reuben Fitch were charmers and they knew it. But they were kind and didn’t have an obnoxiously large ego that most frat boys had. 

You loved them all, but you couldn’t stand Jake Seresin. No matter how badly he tried to get on your good side, you wouldn’t have it. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of being another person to fall victim to his charm. 

“Well Ace, you’ve somehow managed to ruin the fun. Again,” Jake deadpans from where he sits across from you at the coffee table. He bet that you couldn’t beat him at a round of chess. You took that challenge and beat him in three rounds. 

A smug smile overcomes your features as you get up from your criss-crossed position and do a little happy dance at Jake’s obvious disappointment. “Snooze, you lose, Hangman.” 

He groans at the appointed nickname you gave him two weeks into knowing him. Jake had been bragging about his latest sexual escapades and Bradley said something along the lines of him leaving his catch of the day hanging, disappearing before morning. The nickname stuck and became universally used within your friend group. 

You miss the slight upward tug of his lips when you turn around and head to the kitchen to grab another bottle of water. 

Bob, who had been observing each match and quietly serving as referee, broke Jake out of his reverie. “You went easy on her.” 

Jake avoids Bob’s inquisitive stare and focuses on the faded chessboard. “No I didn’t.” 

“Yes you did,” he quips, matter of factly. “I’ve seen you play against Bradley. You’re better than that.” 

“Well, maybe I didn’t want her to feel bad for losing,” He shrugs, nonchalantly. 

“Or maybe you just like seeing her win.” 

Jake chucks the pillow he was sitting on at Bob, quickly shutting him up with a squeak. You make your way back to the table, eyeing the two boys at their strange behavior. “You up for one more round, Seresin?” 

He checks his watch. “Can’t. Have a thing with Sarah tonight.” 

The information makes your heart drop just a little bit in your chest, but you regain your composure. You clear your throat and harden your features. “Oh. Have fun at your…thing.” He didn’t have to tell you it was a hookup for you to know it was a hookup. He had “things” every week, which is why you didn’t understand why this time hurt you just a little more. 

The room is silent after Jake leaves with you washing the dishes while Bob sits and reads on the couch. You anxiously looked to the clock that was incessantly ticking away on the wall, desperate for Natasha to get home. You loved Bob, but right now you needed to have some girl talk. 

You exasperatedly sigh, harshly wiping your palms on the dish rag on your shoulder. 

Bob hums, silently questioning what the matter was. 

“Did Nat say when she was coming home?” You throw the rag on the counter and plop yourself down beside him. “I tried texting her but she hasn’t responded.” 

Bob thinks for a minute, then responds, “Nope.” 

“Well how long is it gonna take her to run this damn errand?” 

One thing about Bob: he was a shit liar. The tips of his ears immediately got red and his blue eyes never had the guts to meet those he was lying to. 

“Bob…” You scoot closer to him, noticing the tell tale signs of his dishonesty. 

“What?” His voice cracks and so does his last bit of dignity. 

“When’s Natasha coming home?” 

One look into your narrowed eyes is all it takes to have Bob breaking his resolve. “Alright, fine. She said she was going to be out past dinner.” 

“Why?” 

The frown on your face almost breaks his heart. “She–well…” He hated lying to you, especially when you looked at him like that. Your little pout and wide eyes had him cursing silently. “She went on a date.” 

“Oh.” Your brows screw up in confusion. “Then why didn’t she just tell me?” 

Bob cringes. “Don’t tell her I told you, otherwise she will kill me.” 

You hold your pinky out to him with a small smile. He links his with yours and the two of you press a soft kiss to your fisted hands before pulling away. 

“Alright, fine. She didn’t tell you because she’s going on a date with Javy,” he rushes out. 

You blink, processing the information. You and Nat told each other everything. Why did she feel the need to hide this from you? You voice your thoughts out loud and Bob shakes his head. 

“She thought you were gonna blow up at her for going out with him. You know, because he’s Jake’s best friend and all.” Bob watches you cautiously. Your temper was unpredictable sometimes. One second you would be fine and the next you would be blowing your top off. He wasn’t sure which side of you he was going to get this time. 

A sniffle leaves you and you wipe at your nose with the back of your hand. “Why would I get mad at her for that?” 

“Because you haven’t had the kindest of opinions towards women who date frat guys, especially Delta Chi ones.” 

You vaguely recall that conversation. You had called those women “airheads who are addicted to sex.” But you didn’t mean it. You were drunk and bitter about the fact that you were in your third year of college and still single. Had you known Nat wanted to go out with Javy, you would’ve kept your big mouth shut. “But I like Javy,” is all you can say. 

Bob nods. “Yeah, but you hate Jake.” 

Your gaze snaps back to him. “So?” 

“So, she thought going out with him was like… I don’t know. Fraternizing with the enemy?” 

“But Javy’s my friend. I don’t care about how close he is to Hangman. He isn’t like him,” you huff. Pulling your knees to your chest, you take a deep breath. “If he makes her happy then…she should go out with him. I just wish she told me.” 

Bob wraps his arm around you, tugging you so your head could rest on his shoulder. He knew there was more to this than you let on. But he let it slide, choosing to comfort you in your conflicted feelings. “When Nat gets home, you should tell her that.” “I will,” you murmur into the fabric of his sweatshirt. 

He presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “Good.” 

It’s at that moment that the apartment door swings open, revealing Mickey with Jake in tow. Your head snaps up and you see Jake standing there with his mouth agape. 

Mickey nods at you and Bob in quick greeting before pointing a thumb at the man behind him. “Idiot forgot his jacket again. It’s a good thing he caught me in the parking lot.” 

You laugh awkwardly, stiffening in Bob’s hold. 

You feel his arm drop from around your shoulder as he clears his throat, looking away from Jake. 

“Sorry,” Jake’s voice is rough and there’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite place. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

Bob waves him off. “It’s all good. You weren’t interrupting anything. Right, Ace?” 

You can only nod dumbly, still not taking your eyes off of Jake’s vibrant green. 

Jake clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Alright. Well, thanks again for letting me in, Mick. I’ll um, catch you guys later I guess.” He steals one last look of you snugly wrapped up in Bob before rushing out the door with a small shake of his head. 

Jake doesn’t speak to you for a week after that.

_______

The tune of Slow Ride hits your ears and you groan into your cup. Bradley looks at you in amusement from where you sit beside him on the stairs. The boys had decided to unwind from yet another stressful week with yet another Delta Chi party. You were pretty adamant on sitting this one out, mainly because you didn’t want to see Jake or his new conquest of the week. Things have been tense to say the least. The fact that you and Jake didn’t get along wasn’t new to the group, however as the days passed, your nonstop bickering eventually turned to tolerance for one another. Enough to almost say the two of you were even becoming friends. 

Jake still annoyed you to your core but his company somehow managed to grow on you. Which is why his sudden radio silence upset you. It got to the point that you couldn’t even look at him without seeing red. 

“This is stupid,” you grumble, taking another swig of the cheap beer in your cup. You hated these parties. Normally, your friends wouldn’t mind you opting out to stay home instead. However Nat had noticed how your sour mood progressed throughout the week and concluded that you needed to get out to places that weren’t the lecture halls. She begged you to come with her to the party Delta Chi was throwing this weekend. For me? she pleaded, knowing just how much you hated saying no to her. Now that you were here, you longed to be back in the confines of your apartment, snuggled under your covers with a cup of tea and Emily Henry to keep you company. 

Instead, you found yourself crammed in a two story frat house that was filled to the brim with sweaty and intoxicated bodies. The music was too loud and the smell of alcohol and weed was sure to be stuck on your clothes by the night’s end. The only thing keeping you sane was Bradley’s company and you knew that as the night progressed, even he would soon disappear. 

“You want me to take you home?” Bradley asks, leaning down to your ear so you can hear him. 

You shake your head, pushing at his shoulder. “It’s fine. Besides, I have a feeling you’re gonna get lucky tonight, Bachelor.” You nod towards the blonde in the corner of the room whose eyes haven’t left Bradley since the two of you migrated to the staircase. 

He was practically drooling under the dimmed lights as he followed your motions. Bradley sends the girl a smirk before looking at you wordlessly. 

“Go,” you urge him with a laugh. 

He lets out a breath, downing the rest of his drink and giving your knee a squeeze. “Thanks. I owe you!” 

You playfully roll your eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Be safe!” 

Bradley winks at you over his shoulder. “Always am!” 

The small smile on your lips fades as you watch Bradley go and flirt with the pretty blonde. You were never the center of attention, never the type that anyone gave their time of day to. You were average. Plain boring. The constant reminder of that was there when you hung out with the boys. You loved them, but hearing the way they talked about other girls did take a stab at your self esteem. You used to make fun of them with Natasha but then she started dating Javy, and became one of those girls. And you don’t blame them, your best friend was gorgeous. Anyone with eyes could see that. You convinced yourself that you liked the lack of attention and isolation. But every now and then, you wished someone saw you and thought, Wow. Now that’s someone I want to be with. 

You push yourself off the carpeted stairs, deciding to find Reuben or even Nat and Javy. The cup in your hand is empty anyways. Might as well get a refill while you’re at it. You can barely move through the sea of people that are packed into such a small space. People were grinding against each other left and right, making you want to hurl. You push your way through the kitchen, finally making it to the open patio where beer pong tournaments and sloppy make outs occurred. The cold, night air feels nice against your hot and sweaty skin. You close your eyes, leaning up against the wall and drown out the music and laughter around you. Peace. You just needed a moment of peace. 

You’re too caught up in your own little bubble to notice the presence that saunters up beside you. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?” 

The voice startles you from your moment and your eyes snap open. A hand reaches up to your racing heart and you turn to meet the source of your sudden adrenaline rush. The man beside you is familiar, you’ve seen him once or twice on campus and at other Fraternity events the boys had invited you to. Not to mention, incredibly good looking as well. 

He holds a hand up, almost like he was trying to calm a rattled horse and sheepishly smiles. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

You swallow, sharply exhaling and squeezing your plastic up in your hand to ground yourself. “It’s alright.” You avoid his gaze and nervously pick at the chapped skin of your lower lip. 

“Billy Avalone,” he introduces himself with a confident grin. “I think I’ve seen you ‘round with Seresin and Bradshaw.” 

You finally look up to meet his gaze and offer him a dry smile. You offer him an introduction of your own. “Nice to meet you.” 

Billy ever so smoothly scoops up your free hand in his and places a soft kiss to the upside of your hand. Your cheeks heat up at his delicate touch and your knees almost buckle at the glimmer in his eyes. “Trust me, the pleasure is all mine.” 

His manners make you chortle and you snort, pulling away from him to hide behind your smirk behind your palm. 

Rather than drawing away from you, he finds himself intrigued and raises a brow at your amusement. “What?” 

“Nothing, nothing,” you say in between laughter. You grasp your cup with both hands before looking at him with a much more genuine smile on your face. “It’s just… You are not what I expected from a Delta Chi.” 

He nods knowingly, remembering your association with Jake and Bradley. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” 

There was that ego you were looking for. But it doesn’t deter you like it normally would, in fact you find yourself leaning into him. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You shut your mouth immediately after that, quite surprised by your sudden burst of confidence. 

Billy leans into you just as much, letting his hand brush against your forearm. It sends a shiver down your spine and goosebumps arise on your bare skin. “Nice try, but that’s to be revealed only if you agree to go on a date with me.” 

There was no malice in his tone, no laughing idiots around to signify that anything about this was a joke. The look in Billy’s eyes was full of genuine hope and for the first time that night, you find yourself forgetting all about Jake Seresin and immerse yourself in the idea of Billy Avalone. He was charming and attractive. Lean, but broad enough for you to tell that underneath the jacket he wore was all muscle. You found it hard to believe that Billy had any interest in you and yet, here he was, asking you out on a date. Any other day, you would’ve taken a hard pass.You would’ve told him to move along and put his energy into another person who would consider saying yes. But then you think of Nat and Javy and just how utterly lonely you feel, deciding that Billy was worth the chance and the risk. 

You open your mouth to respond, but stiffen at the feeling of warmth that encapsulates your back. You don’t need to turn to know exactly who it is. The familiar scent of laundry detergent and cinnamon washes over you and you resist the urge to fall into him. 

“Billy,” Jake greets, his voice dropping an octave as he leans in closer to you. His chest just barely brushes against your back sending a new wave of warmth to your neck and cheeks. 

“Hey, Jake.” Billy’s gaze flicks to Jake’s before he focuses his attention back on you, still eagerly waiting for your response. 

Your breath hitches in your throat at the feeling of Jake’s hand on your lower back and you turn to look at him with furrowed brows. His usually well kept hair was stuffed under his backwards baseball cap and despite the chill of the night air he was in nothing but a t-shirt and jeans. 

The air between the three of you is heavy as Billy tries to dismiss Jake’s presence. “So, what do you say about that date?” He smiles at you sweetly, rocking back and forth on his heels. 

Before you can utter a response Jake steps in front of you and blocks you completely from Billy’s view. “Let’s get out of here, Ace.” 

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You scoff, balling your hand up in a fist to resist the urge to slap the back of Jake’s perfect head. “Excuse me? Seresin, will you knock it off?” 

He ignores you, taking a step closer to Billy. Jake straightens his spine. “She’s off limits. Got it, Avalone?” 

“Well, shit, Jake. If that’s your girl, why didn’t you just say so?” Billy gives you an apologetic look from over Jake’s shoulder. 

Jake huffs, almost like an angry bull. “Off. Limits.” 

You frown, adamantly shaking your head. “Wait, Billy. I am not his girl.” 

“No, it’s alright. I’m sorry I even asked. I’ll see you around, I guess.” He knew better than to pick a fight with Jake Seresin. His defeated gaze darts to the floor before he makes his way back into the house. 

Your chest is heaving as you watch Billy walk away. You don’t know whether you want to cry or scream more. You decide on the latter, not deeming Jake worthy of your tears. 

Jake turns to face you, still smiling proudly to himself. His face slightly falls when he meets your eye. He knows well enough that you were not happy. “Ace?” 

You push at his shoulders. “What the fuck, Hangman?” 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hang on–”

The palm of your hands make contact with his broad shoulders once more. “Are you kidding me?” You shove him again but Jake’s hardened features don’t falter. “Who gave you the right? Someone was finally interested in me and you just had to drive them away. Your ego really couldn’t handle the fact that I was getting attention. Is that it?” 

“Ace, wait.” He tries to reach for you but you slap his hand away. 

“No, fuck you, Seresin. You can’t…” Your resolve breaks and the tears that sat on your lash line spill over. “You can’t just ignore me for a week only to talk to me after chasing away the one chance of a boyfriend I’ve got. That’s not fair.” 

“You don’t understand. Billy isn’t good enough for you.” 

“Yeah?” You look at him with tear stained cheeks. “Then humor me. Who is?” 

Jake’s words get caught in his throat as he watches you wipe your tears away with the palm of your hand. He wanted to take your face in his hands and brush those tears away. But he knew you wouldn’t let him. 

“That’s what I thought.” You brush past him, knocking his shoulder with your own. “I’m not like the other girls you mess around with. I know that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to feel wanted too.” 

He calls after you, realizing just how horribly he screwed up. But you continue on back inside, probably trying to find Nat or Reuben to take you home. He knew that you weren’t like the other girls. You were different, you were better. You were everything he wanted and more. From the moment he met you, he was hooked. It scared him at first. You were the complete opposite from the girls he usually set his sights on. You were hard headed, independent, unafraid to call him out on his bullshit. You challenged him and he liked that. You weren’t shallow like everyone else and you made him feel seen. 

He never thought a group project would lead him to you. You iced him out at first, and admittedly he knew he deserved that. Then he got to know you and he realized he never wanted to stop. Jake wanted to be the one on the receiving end of your jokes and the affection you gave to those close to you. He dropped his asshole attitude and made the effort to get you to see the real Jake Seresin. And it worked. He was doing so well to finally get you to let your guard down around him. Yet all that work, all that progress, went down the drain because he couldn’t keep his emotions in check. 

By the time Jake caught up to you, you were dragging Natasha out the door with Javy on your tails. His heart dropped to his stomach and he wished he could turn back time to one week ago. Before he hurt you and made you cry. 

_______

Your goal was to forget Jake Seresin ever existed. You threw yourself into your work, locking yourself in your room and spending more time in the library than your own apartment. Now that Nat was officially with Javy, the boys were around more often and you just weren’t ready to face him yet. It wasn’t fair to everyone else, you knew that. But it was easier for you to push them away. You turned back into that academic machine you were before Bradley and Jake forced you out of your shell. You didn’t party, didn’t go out, didn’t join the gang for movie night. Your new friends were your coursework. And when that ran out, you turned to your favorite show reruns for comfort. 

You ignore the series of knocks on your door for the third time tonight. Natasha sighs in defeat, turning back to the group with a shake of her head. “I told you. She’s not coming.” 

Reuben frowns. “Did you tell her Jake wasn’t coming with us?” 

Everyone was aware of your complicated relationship with Jake. The small dance the two of you did was obvious to everyone but yourselves. It was only recently that Jake finally admitted why you’ve been hiding yourself away. If it weren’t for Javy holding her back, Natasha would’ve tore Jake to shreds. 

“I did.” Natasha knew you and she knew you were embarrassed for lashing out at Jake the way you did. Hiding was the safest way to avoid facing yet another humiliating confrontation about your behavior. 

You’ve never spoken to Nat directly about your insecurities, but she saw them in the little things you did. Not bothering to wear extravagant makeup or clothing, putting up a hard front, and pretending not to care. Deep down she knew you cared about how you were perceived. You did care whether or not people found you desirable. You wanted the cliche, movie romance. You wanted someone to sweep you off your feet, just like Westley in The Princess Bride. 

Never, have you let those insecurities break your spirit. Until now. She has never seen you so small. She didn’t understand how Jake Seresin managed to knock you down with just one hit. 

But it has been nearly two weeks since the party and Natasha was done with your groveling and self pity. You were going to get out of your room and you were going to have fun. 

“Just give her a second,” Reuben whispers, having just a little bit of faith left in you. 

It was as if you felt the little piece of hope Reuben had left for you because suddenly, the door of your room swings open and a breath of relief leaves both of your friends. You had decided to come out and join them after all. Nat had told you it was just a casual hangout amongst your friends, bar Bradley and Jake. You settled on changing into an oversized Naval Academy sweatshirt you had thrifted and an old pair of faded jeans. 

Nat hadn’t seen you in anything other than pajama tees and sweatpants so to her, this was a big win. 

Reuben smiles widely at your appearance before coming up to you and gathering you into his arms. “There you are.” His words and affection pulls an unexpected giggle out of you, soothing Reuben and Nat’s nerves. “How’ve you been, Ace?” 

You shrug, shifting in his hold as he keeps an arm around you. “I could be better. But I guess I could be worse too.” 

Natasha hooks your arm with hers, taking you from Reuben’s grasp. “You ready to go? Javy is waiting in the car with Bob and Mickey. I was thinking we could go to The Hard Deck using your car. You know, like old times.” 

That brings a ghost of a smile to your face. The Hard Deck was a place of refuge for you and your group of friends, despite it being a Navy bar. You and Mickey found it by accident, stopping over at the nearest institution because he had to use the bathroom really badly on a drive back to campus. The bartender, Penny Benjamin, was sweet and treated you all like her own children. You haven’t seen her in awhile and just knew a visit to your spot was long overdue. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 

The drive to the bar brings a bit of your old spark back. Natasha had the windows rolled down while the two of you belted out your favorite songs at the top of your lungs. She filled you in on all the things you missed from the past couple of weeks, strategically leaving out any anecdotes involving Jake. Though, Nat hasn’t seen him much since the party. It seemed as if he was taken over by the spirit of an old Delta Chi member. He was slumming it with the sorority girls and stayed out late partying with the other guys of his Frat. Bradley had tried to snap him out of it, but he reverted to his old ways. Back to before they met you. 

Upon arriving at The Hard Deck you exchange a round of pleasantries with the rest of your friends who were glad to see you finally out of, as Mickey had called it, your “Bat Cave.” You volunteered to grab some drinks for the rest of the party while they settled in your usual booth in the back. 

You returned to the table with beers for the guys, a club soda for Bob, a Mai Tai for Nat, and a lemonade for yourself. The night was spent full of laughter and warmth as you found yourself slipping back into your natural groove of things. Soon, your once dampened mood started to dissipate. 

“I’m telling you, there’s something going on with Professor Mitchell and Penny,” Mickey slurs. 

The group erupts into chaos then, one talking over the other and you can’t help but laugh as you lean into Mickey’s side. You missed this. You were so hard headed that in the process of blocking one person out, you put it upon everyone else. But you were here now and he wasn’t. That’s all that mattered to you. 

Reuben is the one to calm the group down. “Alright, alright. You’re saying, P. Mitchell and Penny are… romantically involved. Where the hell did you get that idea?” 

“DnD club meets here on Tuesdays and coincidentally so does Professor Mitchell,” he shrugs. 

“Did you say DnD club?” Javy’s wheezing between breaths and Natasha has to slap him on the chest to get him to stop. 

Mickey rolls his eyes. “I have a life outside of you guys, you know.” 

“Yeah, but DnD club?” 

“What’s wrong with DnD?” Bob chimes in, slightly offended. 

Nat slaps him again. “Javy!”

“Right, sorry. Please, continue.” 

“Actually, I don’t think I want to,” Mickey narrows his eyes at the man. 

“Mick, he was joking. Please finish what you were saying.” You tap him affectionately on the shoulder with a gentle smile. 

He attempts to continue his story when a smack to the tabletop catches all of you off guard. You tear your gaze from Mickey to be met with Bradley Bradshaw clad in one of his signature Hawaiian shirts as he leans against the table. 

You give him a pained smile, knowing that where Bradley went, Jake wasn’t far behind. 

“Good to see ya, Ace,” Bradley nods. 

“You too, Brad,” you tell him softly. And you meant it. 

The group falls uncharacteristically quiet and you feel Natasha give your knee tight squeeze. 

“Didn’t know the gang was getting back together.” The familiar snark of the one person you didn’t want to see rings through your ears. Jake Seresin struts over with that stupidly cocky grin of his and unsurprisingly, another sorority girl on his arm. 

No longer caring for pleasantries with the man, you roll your eyes. You hate to admit that it stung to see him with yet another woman. A small part of you hoped that maybe he’d show up empty handed and acknowledge your presence. That didn’t happen and it felt like a knife to the chest. What did you expect? Of course, nothing has changed since the last time you saw him. While you were feeling worse than ever about yourself, Jake had absolutely zero cares in the world. He only cared about himself, he always would. 

Javy was the only one who had the stomach to greet him with a simple, “Hey.” 

He chuckles, almost mockingly, as the girl on his arm tries to gain his attention and pull him to the bar. “Why weren’t we invited to the party?” 

“Because no one wants you here, Bagman,” Natasha spits. 

Jake brings a hand to his chest, acting hurt at her insinuation. “You wound me, Natasha.” 

She gives him the finger in response. 

“Now does everyone not want me here? Or is there a certain someone who doesn’t want me here?” He raises a brow and his bright green eyes land on you. 

You avoid his gaze and you hear Bradley hiss Jake’s name. 

“What? I’m just saying. It’s pretty obvious someone didn’t want me here and we all know who.” Jake doesn’t care that the girl who had been hanging off of him moments ago found someone else to play with, abandoning her post to flirt with another guy over at the pool tables. He had your attention and to him that was enough. 

You feel a familiar sting behind your eyes, knowing damn well he was just toying with you at this point. 

“Stop.” This time it’s Javy who speaks up, surprising Jake. “If you only came over here to be a dick then I suggest you leave.” 

The light mood from earlier has completely died and you know that once he leaves, nothing can bring it back. 

“Ace.” 

He calls you out directly this time and you can’t hold it in any longer. All the hurt and anger he caused bubbles up to the surface. Part of you wants to talk to him, clear the air up a bit and give him a chance to apologize. The other part of you, the more rational part, decides to ignore him entirely. 

You quietly ask Natasha if you could pass and her and Javy get up to stand to the side to let you through. You purposely angle your body so your back is towards Jake, announcing that you were going to get another drink before heading in the direction of the bar. 

Jake moves to follow you, only to be stopped by his best friend. 

Javy grabs his wrist with a disapproving frown. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“Let go, Javy,” he absent mindedly demands. His eyes never leave your figure as you make your way through the crowd. 

“No. You’re being an asshole, man. What happened to the guy who was repeatedly texting me to make sure she was okay? I told you where we were because I thought you were going to apologize. Not do… whatever that was.” Disappointment shines in Javy’s deep brown eyes. 

Bradley slides into the space where you once were, watching what was about to unfold with the rest of them. 

“Wait a minute, you told him we were going here? Javy!” Natasha looks at her boyfriend in disbelief. 

“I’m sorry! This idiot told me he wanted to make it up to her.” He gestures blindly to Jake who was running a hand through his already disheveled hair. 

Natasha snorts. “Unbelievable,” she swears under her breath. 

“Nat–” Jake starts, but she cuts him off in an instant. 

“No. You stay away from her, got it? She’s had enough of your games, Seresin, and quite frankly so have I.” 

“I messed up. I know I did. But please, please just give me a chance to explain.”

He takes Natasha’s silence as an unspoken truce. “I care about her. So much that it scares the shit out of me. I was gonna tell her, you know. Then I saw her with Bob and I realized that she could do so much better than me. So I did what I do best. I pushed her away.” 

Bob flushes red at the mention of his name. 

“What is there to say about myself other than that I’m your typical, college fuckboy? The thing is, I was fine with that reputation. I was good at doing things on my own. Then I met Ace and I realized she’s my antidote. That girl gave me tunnel vision. Suddenly, I’m looking at my future and I want to do more with my life than be known as a college heartbreaker. The one thing I know to be true is that I want to be better with her by my side.”

“Why should I believe you after the way you treated her?” Natasha’s gaze narrows, still not fully convinced. 

He swallows harshly. “You have every right not to. I wouldn’t believe me either. But you’ve got to understand that I never realized just how much she really meant to me until I almost lost her.” There’s a look of defeat that crosses his features, and his head falls to his chest. 

Nat’s hardened stare falters ever so slightly. “To Billy. But wait, I don’t understand. What about that girl you came in here with?” 

“Oh, she’s here for free booze. I needed to get Ace’s attention somehow.” 

She rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot.” 

Jake nods, regret shining in his eyes. “I know. Listen, I’m not good at relationships.” 

“Trust me, we know,” Bradley mutters under his breath. 

Jake shoots him a quick glare before continuing. “I don’t know how to do them. For Ace, I’ll learn. I would do anything for her. Look, I know I’ve made mistakes and I need to fix them before it’s too late.” 

Natasha was conflicted. She looks at Javy who meets her gaze with a soft smile. Then to Reuben and Bradley. Finally, her eyes land once more on Jake. She found herself in the same dilemma she was in before she started dating Javy. Their reputation precedes them. You were the one to warn her of Delta Chi’s womanizer ways. Yet she still gave Javy a chance and it was the best decision she ever made. She knew deep down that these guys had good hearts. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, she knew Jake did too. He was kinder with you, softer. You always brushed him off but Nat saw the way he affected you. He made you happy and you deserved to be. If she could give Javy that chance, shouldn’t she extend it to Jake too?

She groans with her head in her hands. “Fine. Fine.” 

Jake’s eyes light up, clearly expecting another rejection. “Really?”

“Yes. But I swear if you hurt her again, if you break her heart, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” 

His stomach churns at the thought, knowing full well that she meant it. “Yes, ma’am,” he salutes. 

“Now go get her before it’s too late.” In other words, Natasha had finally given him her blessing. 

Jake’s dejected state is replaced with one of determination. He mouths an appreciative thank you, before setting his sights on you. 

“Forget DnD club, I need to hang out with you guys more often because that was better than a Netflix drama,” Mickey babbles, making Bob smack him lightly on the back of his head. 

With her arms crossed, Natasha stares out the window wistfully. “I just hope he can make things right.” 

Wrapping his arms around Nat, Javy gives her a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, he’s got this.” 

_________

“Hey Pen, can you just tell Natasha to ride home with the boys? I think I’m going to head out.” You place a wad of cash on the bar top, signaling for her to close your tab. 

The woman frowns, noticing the bothersome frown on your face. “You sure, sweetheart?” 

Downing the last of your lemonade, you nod. “Thank you, for the advice and everything.” 

“Of course. Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself, okay?” 

A tight smile pulls at your lips in farewell. You push your way through the rowdy crowd, breathing deeply once you make it outside. 

You curse under your breath. You didn’t know it was supposed to rain tonight. You eye your car in the distance, deciding whether to make the trek or go back inside until it stops. The sound of the door opening behind you catches your attention and your heart leaps out of your chest. 

“Ace,” Jake Seresin calls out, desperately trying to reach you. 

You throw all caution to the wind and run out into the pouring rain, too exhausted to deal with him right now. 

His shoes squeak and splash through the puddles on the asphalt. Not caring that he was soaked to the bone, he runs after you. Jake calls out for you again but you continue on. For once, he doesn’t find himself admiring your stubborn attitude. 

You throw a quick glance behind you, hoping to see that you’ve lost him, but Jake’s strides are longer than yours and he has closed more of the distance between you two than you thought. A shiver racks your form and your clothes are sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You find yourself regretting your decision but there’s no way you can take it back now. You shove your hand into your pocket, frantically pulling out your car keys once you make it to your car. 

Jake sees you shiver as you try to unlock your car. You just barely get the driver’s side to open when he comes up behind you and presses the door shut. Your back is to his front and he pleads for you to turn around. 

You hear him before you see him. You don’t want to turn around. You can’t. You know the second you look into his opalescent green eyes, your resolve will shatter. “Get off, Jake,” you demand impatiently. 

“Please look at me, please.” The desperation of his voice startles you. Never, have you heard Jake Seresin say the word ‘please,’ and never have you heard him beg. 

You’re shaking as you wrap your arms around yourself for warmth. You bite into your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. From the rain or from the tears that have started streaming down your cheeks, you are unsure. 

“Ace,” he breathes. 

His breath is hot against the skin of your neck soothing you from the cold. But still, you don’t budge. 

Jake finds himself getting frustrated and he runs his hand through his damp hair, moving it away from his eyes. He can barely see your reflection in your car window, his vision blurred from the raindrops that cloud his vision. But the pale moonlight and dim streetlamp shows him enough to see that you feel just as hurt as he does, if not more. “Fine. You don’t have to look at me. I just need you to listen.” 

You say nothing. 

He exhales through his mouth as he recalls what he wants to say. “Remember when we first met and you asked me if I actually had a brain or if I just thought with my dick? That was the moment I knew you were unlike anyone else I’ve ever met. Usually, I’d have girls swooning over me left and right, but not you. You weren’t fazed by me in the slightest and that intrigued me. Everything about you intrigues me. Which is why I was so eager to get more out of you. I poked fun. I made jokes. I made sure that your attention was almost always on me because when it was, it gave me the best view of each and every thing you had to offer. Like the way you bite your bottom lip when you’re trying not to cry.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat from his words, heart going faster than that goddamn roadrunner. 

“Come on, Ace.” 

How could you deny him when he spoke with so much conviction? You spin on your heel to face him. He’s soaked, just as you are, and yet you think he has never looked so beautiful. As you look at him, the ache in your chest doesn’t subside and you sniffle from the cold. “What do you want, Seresin?” 

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. 

You look away from him. “I don’t need your pity.” 

“Hey, I’m serious. I know I hurt you and I will never forgive myself for it.” 

There’s a sincerity in his tone that throws you off. “Then why? If you feel so bad about it, why did you do it?” 

“Because… Because I…” He’s nervous. Of all the times he has ever spoken to you, this is the one time he has felt this way. 

Your patience is wearing thin so you shake your head and run a hand down your face. You were so tired of him holding out on you. “You know what? All I ever wanted was for you to look at me the same way you look at those other girls. Why wasn’t I good enough for you?” Once the floodgates opened, it was hard to get them locked up again. 

You might as well have ripped his heart out of his chest instead of saying that. The effect it had on him would’ve been all the same. “Oh, baby,” he cups your face gently between his calloused hands and strokes his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks. The rain made it hard for him to tell which marks were tears and which were rainwater, but he treated them all the same. “Those girls have nothing on my Ace. You are more than enough. You are everything and I was too blind to see it until now.” 

“What?” You whimper. 

God, does he want to kiss that pout right off your face. “I don’t look at you the way I look at everyone else because I don’t want them the way I want you.” 

“And how is that, Jake?” 

That alone gives him a glimmer of hope. His heart skips a beat and his stomach erupts in butterflies.“You called me Jake,” he grins. “You never call me Jake.” 

You scoff, not realizing the name slipped. “Answer the question.” 

“I want every part of you. I want late nights and study sessions. I want to be the first one you call and the last one you text goodnight. The good, the bad, all of it. As long as it’s you.” 

The honesty in his gaze makes you want to believe him. Because that’s all you ever wanted from him. So bad. But he has hurt you one too many times. You don’t think you’d be able to take it if he did one more time. “How do I know you won’t hurt me again?” 

Jake takes the leap, resting his forehead on yours. When you don’t pull away, he confesses, “You don’t. But I will spend every day proving to you that I’m never going to make that mistake again.” He brushes some of your damp hair away from your face and admires how ethereal you look in this light. “One date, Ace. Let me make it up to you.” 

You relish in his warmth, the aching hurt in your chest finally subsiding. The raging storm in your heart is finally calm. “One date. That’s all you’re getting.” 

The smile that spreads across his face is the brightest you’ve ever seen. He no longer feels lost now that he has you. “That’s all I need, darling.” 

For once, you believe him. 

add yourself to my taglist!

tgm taglist (does not include ‘seasons’ tags): @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl

a/n: this was supposed to be short, yet here we are. i hope you enjoy frat!jake as much as i do <3 as usual, huge thanks to @briseisgone love u hun.

[topguncortez]

jake seresin: slaps and grabs your ass whenever he walks by

bradley bradshaw: dry humps your ass whenever he walks by

bob floyd: politely stares at your ass whenever he walks by

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

did someone say fratboy!jake... who's a huge player... but meets a girl... and all of a sudden the man is head over heels... the most devoted guy there is... the biggest softie ever... who teaches her a few of his tricks along the way (😉)...

he needs to put his backwards hat on the reader while he fucks her. I don't make the rules

[ereardon]

For anyone new here or who liked my recent Frat!Bob fic, you might like my Frat!Jake series, Above The Fold. There's some definite spice and a lot of slow burn, it's enemies to lovers set on a college campus! xx

[notebook-of-elle]

where tf is that pic of younger glen powell looking like a college frat boy wHEN YOU NEED IT

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 13 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica's fraternity fundraiser is the most popular event during alumni weekend. While that should be enough to guarantee she's smiling all night, an unwanted guest turns up to make sure that doesn't happen. Jake is set on taking care of her, but he desperately wants her to open up.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of smut, angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, frat boys, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

"Come on, Hangman," Bradley grunted. "You're acting like you've never been to a frat party before."

Jake watched him adjusting the keg of beer in the enormous tub of ice on the back porch of the fraternity house. "We're supposed to carry this inside?" Jake balked. "Why? It's going to make a mess."

"Jesus Christ, Jake. You need beer to play beer pong."

"We played it with champagne at your house on New Year's Eve," he countered, just to irritate Bradshaw. 

"Yeah, and it low key pissed off my wife. Just help me carry this inside before both of them get mad at us."

He and Jake struggled with the keg and dropped it off in the back hallway where the exceptionally nerdy looking frat boys would be able to access it to fill up the crystal cups between rounds. In fact, one of them was coming over now, all dressed up in his tuxedo. 

"Excuse me, sir. Can you help me move some of the ping pong tables?"

Bradley looked absolutely disgusted as he said, "Only if you stop calling me sir." Bradley went off to help him while Jake found Jessica in the kitchen going over the menus with the culinary students. She looked gorgeous, and he wanted to get his hands on her, but there was a soft crease between her eyebrows that told Jake she was starting to stress. 

"What can I do?" he asked when she glanced his way.

"Can you check to make sure you can hear the string quartet everywhere?" she asked him. "Everyone should start arriving in about ten minutes."

"Of course." Jake walked around the entire downstairs of the sprawling Victorian house, and after a minute he realized the quartet was playing Hot In Herre by Nelly. Not only could he hear it everywhere, it also sounded incredible, and he had to fight the urge to start dancing. 

When he walked into the main living room, Bradshaw and his wife had their backs to him while they threw a few test shots at one of the tables. Jake had to appreciate the juxtaposition that Jessica had achieved here. It was an elevated college experience for adults. 

"Let's try this out," Bradshaw mumbled, stretching like he was about to compete in an event at the actual olympics. "I honestly don't love that Jess didn't go regulation with solo cups," he complained, aiming at the crystal glassware lined up at the far end of the table. 

His wife wrapped her arms around him and said, "Come on, Beer Boy. You can do it."

"Not with you hanging all over me, I can't," he said, but in such a loving way that Jake rolled his eyes. Bradshaw was soft and sweet for literally nobody but his wife. 

"You never once complained about that when we were in college," she mused, kissing the side of his neck when her eyes met Jake's. "Oh look. Another fuckboy."

Jake laughed in response and made his way over to her as the fraternity boys ran around and started pouring glasses of champagne for everyone who was about to arrive. "What did you call me?"

"You heard me," she replied with a grin while her husband made two shots in a row, the pinging of the balls against the crystal making a satisfying sound. "We should play later as long as everything is going smoothly. Fuckboys versus hot ladies."

"Hot, smart ladies," Bradshaw said as he made another shot. Jake got his ass kicked by the two of them on New Year's Eve, but he was more confident he could win with Rooster as his teammate. 

"Here you go, sir," the nerdiest of the boys told Bradley, offering up the champagne flutes on the tray. He growled and snatched one up before handing it to his wife at the same time Jake caught sight of his girlfriend in the kitchen with another guy's arms wrapped around her. 

"What the fuck." He wove around the tables and ducked through the doorway where Jessica was laughing with an extremely attractive man in a purple suit that somehow didn't even look hideous on him. And then she gave him another quick hug before releasing him.

"As soon as you invited me, I dropped everything," the other guy said. "It's not every day you get a chance to look at the beautiful Jessica Reed."

"Stop it, Dev. You're being too sweet. I already can't thank you enough for all the beer."

Perhaps the most disturbing thing was the fact that Jessica looked calmer in the presence of this Dev guy that she had for the past hour, and that didn't even account for the way he was looking at her. Jake cleared his throat loudly. 

"Jake! Come meet Dev Borah!"

When they clasped hands, Jake tried his best at an intimidating handshake, but Dev looked completely unfazed by it. Then he said, "I've heard a lot about you from Bradley. Aren't you the guy who tried to pick up his wife before you realized they were dating?"

Okay. Jake officially hated this guy. He could feel himself blushing, and Jessica was looking up at him with wide eyes. He didn't try to pick up Bradshaw's wife when he met her. Not exactly. He'd put his foot in his mouth a little bit that day last year, but not to the extent Dev was making it out to be. 

"I get it though," he told Jake. "She's beautiful. But so is Jessica. You're very lucky." He slapped Jake on the back before he said, "I just need to run out to my Porsche and grab those gift cards for the silent auction. I'll be right back, Jess."

"I swear I didn't try to pick her up," Jake insisted as soon as he was gone, but Jessica was already laughing at him. 

"She's hot. I get it," she replied as she hugged him. "And I'm sure Dev just wanted to give you a hard time."

Jake rolled his eyes as she tucked her head under his chin. "Are you all set, Baby? I think people are starting to arrive."

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

-----------------------

An hour later, Jessica was pleasantly surprised. The Kappa Pi house was completely packed. It almost felt like a real frat party, but the partygoers ranged in age from thirty to seventy. They'd already gone through countless bottles of champagne and one of the kegs of beer from Beta Brewing. Jake and Bradley were carrying another iced keg inside to the back hallway where the empty one sat. 

"Thank you," she told Bradley who was flushed from whatever he was drinking. He immediately returned to dance with his wife to the string quartet playing Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg. She'd received so many compliments on the music selection, and everyone was gushing about how delicious the beer was. She just sent the trays of food out of the kitchen, and now the beer pong tournament was underway. 

"You're killing it, Reedy," Jake whispered next to her ear before kissing her. "You got this frat thing on lock." Her heart swelled with pride at his words. Then a tall man in a tuxedo strolled her way with a champagne flute in one hand and a glass of beer in the other. 

"Are you Dr. Reed?" he asked over the noisy crowd and the music. 

"Yes," she replied as he shuffled his drinks so he could shake her hand.

"Dr. Gregory Michaels. I just wanted to let you know that I've been coming to alumni weekends for thirty years, and I was a member of Kappa Pi. In fact, I lived in this house my senior year."

"Did you really?" she asked as he smiled and looked around. 

"It feels exactly the same," he told her with a laugh, and she turned to smile at Jake. "I also wanted to let you know that this is by far the best and most entertaining event I've ever attended. My wife is playing beer pong for the first time with a guy in a backwards hat, and I've never seen her have so much fun. I'll be sure to mention this to Dean Walters when he and I have our next golf outing."

"You know Dean Walters?" she asked, her knees nearly giving out. The dean was like four steps above Brian Conley. There was no way Brian would be able to be a complete dick about her tenure if she had the damn dean on her side. 

"I don't just know him. I used to be his math tutor when we were undergrads together. I'll put in a good word."

When he turned and walked away, Jessica giggled and jumped up and down before she took Jake by the hand and led him away from the kegs. "He knows the dean," she hissed as she pushed her way through the back door. "He's putting in a good word."

"You deserve it," he replied in the relative darkness of the back porch as Jessica pushed his back up against the exterior of the house. He smirked as she came to stand between his legs and kissed him. "You deserve everything."

Jake's hands were on her hips, bunching her dress up inch by inch until he slipped his warm hand inside the slit. He wrapped his hand around her thigh, caressing her with his thumb as he pulled her snug against his body. 

"Who's going to give it to me?" she whispered against his lips. "You?"

He moaned as he palmed her ass. "Yeah, I'll give you everything." Then she laced her fingers through his hair and rubbed herself slowly back and forth along his suit pants as he groaned into her mouth. "Jessica." His voice had a pleading quality as he grew a little harder for her. She felt good right now. Almost powerful. "Baby, please." 

As Jessica dragged her right hand down along his body to his pants zipper, Jake's head tipped back. "You think anyone will notice me on my knees?" she asked teasingly as she pulled his zipper down. 

"Fuck," he whined, but just as she got her hand wrapped around him through his underwear, she heard someone calling her name from inside the house.

"Dev's looking for me," she said, kissing his jaw.

"Well I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't love it if he found you with your hand in my pants."

Jessica giggled. "Just hold that thought for later tonight." She got him zipped up again, and when Dev popped out on the porch and found her, she was kissing Jake, but in a much less compromising position. 

"I need you to verify the silent auction winners," Dev told her. "And then I need you to have a glass of champagne with me."

Jake grunted, but Jessica squeezed his hand to silence him. "Coming, Dev," she told him before turning back to Jake. "Let me check on everything, and then just maybe we'll have a minute to play a game of beer pong. I'll meet you in there."

And then she placed one more filthy kiss on Jake's lips before going inside.

-------------------------

Jake sipped his champagne while the crowd around him seemed to move in unison to the cover of Jay-Z that the quartet was playing. It looked like everyone was having a great night, and Bradshaw was no exception as he taught a woman who was easily twice his age how to play beer pong. 

"You need a partner?" 

Jake turned to see a young woman eyeing him up and down with a hopeful smile. Damn. A few months ago, he'd have said yes. And he would have probably ended up sleeping with her either here or back at his condo before kicking her out in the morning. 

"I'm here with my girlfriend." He walked to the other side of the table where Bradshaw's wife was dancing with her own champagne flute. "This whole thing seems successful, right?" he asked.

"Very," she replied. "Look at everyone! That guy's like eighty years old! He's also a huge donor to the college, and he's dancing like nobody's watching."

Jake cracked up. "Meanwhile, everyone is watching." But she was right. Everybody was rocking their formal wear while tossing ping pong balls like there was no tomorrow as the night wore on. 

Then Jessica and Dev emerged from the kitchen, and she came right for him. "Jake, I'm freaking out. I got an email that said I sold all of the tickets available for tonight. And, the items in the silent auction went for a ton of money!"

"I'm not surprised," he replied, pulling her close to his side. "Not one bit. Congratulations."

"You're up!" Bradshaw called out. "Get your ass to the other side of the table, Reed. Hangman, you're with me." Then he kissed his wife, "Get down there with Jessica, Sugar."

"You're about to lose so fucking hard, Beer Boy."

The crowd had started to thin out now, and Jake watched the fraternity boys clean off the table and set up fresh glasses filled with overpriced beer for them. "Ladies first," Jake said, rolling the balls to their end of the table. And that was when he learned that not only was he nowhere near as good as Rooster and his wife, he was also terrible compared to Jessica.

After the ladies sunk both of their shots, Bradley said, "I hope you're ready to drink." And then when Jake missed his first shot, he got a glare in response. "How are you this bad? You went to college."

"I didn't play beer pong. I was busy making out with girls."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "I managed to do both at the same time very successfully. Isn't that right, Sugar?"

She responded by making another shot followed by Jessica. "Shit," Jake muttered. 

"Can we switch partners?" Bradley whined. He tried to walk to the other end of the table as he drank his beer, but his wife just pushed him right back to Jake. 

"It's not our fault we're exceptionally good at math," she said before returning to Jessica's side. 

"Come on, Jake!" his girlfriend cheered. "You can do it!"

But he missed again. It was almost comical how easily the ladies won, and they only had to drink one glass of beer toward the end of the match. Bradshaw's wife danced around while she drank it, and then Jessica made the final shot. 

"I taught her everything she knows!" Bradley shouted as he made his way back to their end. "My wife is a badass."

Jessica was laughing as she ran around the table toward Jake. "You're terrible. Do you need lessons?" she asked sweetly. 

"Lessons from you?" he asked, kissing her hard. "Sign me up." But then his gaze caught on the one person he knew could ruin her night and would absolutely love to do it. 

-----------------------

When Jake started easing himself away from her and rubbing his hand along her back, Jessica looked up at him. "I'll gladly teach you how to suck less at beer pong. Actually... I wonder if I could turn it into a physics lecture topic," she mused. 

"Baby, he's here."

Jessica spun around so fast, she had to fix her glasses as she set eyes on an irate looking Brian Conley. "We need to talk," he told her with his hands on his hips like she was a small child.

"About what?" she bit back, already feeling her body tensing up as Jake, Bradley and his wife stood at her back. 

Brian was looking around the room in annoyance at the handful of alumni guests still playing beer pong and hanging out. The string quartet sounded louder now as the house had emptied out a bit, and the song was suddenly grating on her nerves. 

"Meet me in the kitchen," Brian growled, storming off toward the back of the house. 

Jake's hand was on hers immediately. "You don't have to talk to him right now, Jessica. Tell him to schedule a meeting for next week."

But she shook her head. "I'll be right back." 

She passed Dev in the hallway, and he looked handsome and happy as always. "I need to get going, but cheers to a successful fundraiser. Call me if you want to come up to Beta. You can even bring your boyfriend. I guess." His smile was bright, but she had to force one in return. 

"Thanks for everything, Dev." And as soon as she was alone in the kitchen with Brian, her smile vanished. "What can I help you with?" she asked him, swiping her sweaty palms on her pretty green dress.

He shook his head at her like she was something to be pitied. "You know... I spent all evening working through the numbers, trying to come up with a total amount of money raised through the science department for alumni weekend. And while your numbers seemed to look pretty good, you didn't account for the astronomical amount you wasted on kegs of this designer beer. And when I show up here to question you about it, you're practically drunk and playing the games you set up for paying guests."

Jessica's jaw dropped. "I'm not drunk! I haven't had anything to drink all night!" Brian rolled his eyes. "And I played one round of beer pong with my friends. If you hadn't noticed the event is ending now. It's nearly midnight."

Brian laughed. "You think someone from the math department is your friend? Jessica. You're delusional."

"Call me Dr. Reed," she ground out, fists clenched at her sides as tears stung her eyes. "And I'm not delusional."

Brian rolled his eyes. "Everyone in the science and math departments believes you're nothing but a slut, and I can guarantee your friend falls into that category." She started shaking as he added, "Now tell me how much you spent on the beer so I can deduct it from the profits of your event."

"I didn't spend anything!" she nearly screamed, frustrated beyond belief and tired of being belittled. "It was donated!"

Brian's laughter filled the space, bouncing off of the stainless steel appliances and tiled floor. "Donated? By whom?"

"The owner of the brewery!" she nearly screamed. "He donated things for the silent auction, too."

His gaze bore into her face as a look of disgust filled his features. "Jesus Christ, Dr. Reed. You got thousands of dollars worth of goods donated to you by the brewery owner? How many men are you sleeping with?"

Jessica's face fell further, and she had a hard time swallowing. "I'm not," she whispered, fingers going numb as her fists shook. "I didn't."

"You're so unprofessional. And you expect me to give you tenure? On what basis? You can't even get through an alumni event without fucking up and making yourself look bad."

"On the basis that I'm great at my job!" she shouted. But her voice shook on the last word, and she was mortified that she was about to cry in front of him. There was no hope. The tears were right there. And as her jaw quivered, she felt the first tear roll down her cheek.

"You're a damn joke," he replied maliciously, but then she felt a warm hand on her back between her shoulder blades. 

"What the fuck is your problem, asshole?" Jessica turned to her right to see Advanced Calculus in the kitchen, steadying her with her firm hand. "You think you're so slick, but you're not smarter than us. Where's your PhD from again? The University of Jackass online?"

"This has nothing to do with you," Brian told her, face stony. "Now if you don't mind, we're having a private conversation."

The other woman laughed. "It's no longer private when I can hear you berating Dr. Reed in the next room."

Brian seemed to fumble for a response as he said, "This is none of your business."

Jessica was shaking as Advanced Calculus said, "Actually, you made it everybody's business by telling lies and starting rumors, Dr. Conley. This is a university, not a sleepaway camp."

Brian took a step closer to her and hissed, "Do not think for one second that I can't fuck with your career path, too."

But she just smiled and inched even closer as she loudly said, "You're not in charge of my tenure."

Then Bradley was in the kitchen, too. His wife wrapped her arm around Jessica's shoulders as Bradley went chest to chest with Brian, towering over him. "Why the fuck are you talking to my wife that way? Huh?"

Brian sputtered for a response, but Jessica could barely breathe. It felt good to have people in her corner for once, but now she was terrified that Bradley was going to punch Brian. 

"I asked you a question," Bradley growled before he turned to his wife. "What's this guy's problem, Sugar?"

Jessica would have laughed if she wasn't already crying when her friend said, "I think he got his PhD online."

And then Jake was there, head on a swivel as he surveyed the situation and saw a few more stray tears slip down Jessica's cheeks. "What the fuck is going on?" he demanded.

Bradley's wife laughed sardonically. "Jake, have you met Brian? He thinks it's okay to spread rumors and insult women who are smarter than him, and then he holds it over their heads."

Jessica watched Brian's face turn a pasty shade of white as Jake took him by the shirt collar and shoved him against the refrigerator. "No. Please don't hit him," Jessica begged as she cried. "He's not worth it, Jake."

But her boyfriend looked a little deranged right now, and she could see the malice in Brian's eyes. 

"I've had just about enough of you giving my girl a hard time. It's like you're begging for this." Jake shoved him a little harder, and Jessica had to look away. 

"Oh, shit," Bradshaw and his wife said in unison, and she was too afraid to look. 

Jessica felt the other woman's arms wrap around her as she called out, "Jake, look at Jessica! She's upset."

When Jessica peeked through her tears, she saw Bradley bear hugging Jake's arms to his side as he fought to get to Brian. But when Jake turned to look at her, his features softened, and now it looked like he was fighting against Bradley to come her way. 

Brian pushed away from the refrigerator and stormed out of the room, but not before he said, "We're not finished," as he pointed in Jessica's face.

Bradley released Jake, and Jessica was a little afraid he was going to go after Brian, but he didn't. She was wrapped up in his arms with his lips on her forehead as he whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I made you cry more."

Jessica shook in his arms, terrified that her career was now over. Shaken once again by how hard Brian was trying to ruin her. Jake's kisses and soft words did little to soothe her as she closed her eyes and sobbed.

"Take her home," Bradley said, his voice soft but commanding. "We'll get everything cleaned up here."

Jessica tried to argue, but Jake scooped her up easily in his arms, and she didn't fight him. She closed her eyes, forcing air into and out of her lungs, and a moment later she was sitting in his truck.

--------------------------

Jake started the engine, but before he shifted into drive, he leaned across the seat and brushed Jessica's hair away from her face. "I'll take you back to your place?" he asked softly. More than anything, he really wanted to drop her off and then go pound the shit out of Brian, but when she nodded and reached for his hand, he put the truck in gear.

She remained silent as she held his hand, only occasionally swiping at her tears and looking out the window. If he knew she wanted to confide in him, Jake would sit and wait with her for as long as it took her to get the words out. But he didn't want to push or ask the wrong things. He knew she could have a bit of a hard time opening up. 

He parked his truck, and scooped her up, careful not to mess up the fabric of her pretty dress. As he carried her into her apartment, he realized just how exhausted she must be. Her arms were around his neck, but she just sniffed and buried her face in his neck, trusting that he would get her inside to safety.

When Jake set her on her bed, he reached for the lamp on the nightstand. She looked wrung out even in the soft lighting, and he reached for her shoes. As he turned to take them into her closet, Jessica crawled up to her pillows with her dress still on, so he only took the time to remove his own shoes and his jacket before climbing in with her. 

Once he had his arms wrapped around her, she let her cheek rest on his chest. Her breathing evened out, and she seemed calmer. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly, holding her close. 

She shrugged, and when she spoke, she sounded faint and almost broken. "There's not a lot to say. Brian is trying to ruin my career."

This was not the first time Jake wondered how someone could dislike Jessica. His mind was swirling with the possibility that he was holding a grudge after she broke up with him. He'd been thinking that for weeks. As he pressed a kiss to her hair, he asked, "Why, Baby? How is that possible?"

Jessica's body tensed up in his arms before she took a few shaky breaths and eased her cheek away from his chest. She was crying again as she looked him in the eye and whispered, "He and I were dating. And then we were sleeping together. For weeks. And I had no idea that he's married and has two kids."

--------------------------

Brian Conley is a dank ass bitch. We hate him. If Jake doesn't respond just right, I'll have to kill him. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 14

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

@furiouspiespytaco

@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-joyride

@theharddeck

@withakindheartx

@roosterscockpit

@whatislovevavy

@hangmanbrainrot

@neferpatra

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@averyhotchner

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@mygyn

@hoyaharper

@tallyovie

@gennyanydots

@callsign-magnolia

@whisperofsong

@seriouslyseresin

@double-j

@bradshawsbitch

@katiebby04

@anotherr-fine-mess

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

@bringnattolife

@xoxabs88xox

@djs8891

@hufflepufftruffle

@cottagecori

[simpforrooster]

falling for a girl in purple & gold.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x F!Reader

summary: your brother convinces you to join him at his tailgate. you meet a gorgeous blonde, who happens to root for the opposing football team.

t/w: lots of mention of alcohol. she/her pronouns. cursing. instalovey.

a/n: i’ve been dying to write something like this. this fic is def based off megan maroney’s ‘tennessee orange’ and conner smith’s ‘orange & white.’ i left readers school pretty ambiguous until the verrrrrry end. i’m an lsu girlie 💜💛 so i needed a little self-service.

Stepping into the tailgate tent, nostalgia fills your body. You are transported immediately back to your time in college. Cheering on your alma mater with your sorority sisters. Hooking up with those random frat guys who definitely showed you a good time. You’d have to remember to thank your brother for making you come.

“Sis!” Speak of the devil. Your brother envelops you into a huge bear hug, as if he didn’t see you one week prior at your family’s standing dinner date. You return his hug.

“I am so glad you made it!”

Your brother began introducing you to several of his friends who were taking up space in the tailgate tent. If he doesn’t know them from his fraternity days, then he knows them from the Navy.

“Two more guys are planning to show,” your brother says. “Guys from my time in Miramar.” You understand this to mean from his time at TOPGUN.

Lucky for you, you’ve been schooled in all things naval aviation thanks to the burly guy you call a brother. There was no way he was going to have a sister have zero knowledge about the Navy.

His words, not yours.

Leaving you to ponder, your brother begins mixing drinks. He hands you his “special” after a few minutes. His special being vodka, with a tiny splash of sprite and cranberry juice.

You take the drink from him, raising your brows.

“It’s the first tailgate of the year, sis. Go big or go home.”

You’d much rather go home than consume a ton of alcohol in this heat.

“Well if it ain’t Bozo!” you hear a deep voice call, with a sliiiiight country accent.

“Hey guys!” your brother calls with the enthusiasm of a kid who just unwrapped a PS5 from under the tree. “I’m glad y’all made it.”

You turn and take in the source of that accent, and almost spill your drink. Your brother never told you he was friends with Adonis.

His blonde hair fans out at his neck, beneath a nice Stetson, like he’s skipped a few haircuts. A pair of jeans hug his hips, and across his chest, the school colors of the enemy.

University of Texas. You were sure that burnt orange wouldn’t look good on anyone, but this man is proving that notion wrong. Your eyes lock with his, and he makes sure you see his eyes trail down your body.

When those green eyes meet yours, he drops his right eye in a slow wink.

“Bozo, I didn’t know you colluded with the enemy,” you say to your brother, nodding toward the handsome blonde.

“Ah, well,” Bozo starts, rubbing his hand behind his neck, “not everyone is perfect.”

“What do they call you?” you ask the blonde, not being able to take not knowing his name any longer.

“Hangman.” He fixes you with a gorgeous smirk, and tips that cowboy hat.

“Hangman?” you question, cocking an eye brow.

Those eyes peer into yours. “Yes ma’am.” The way he says those two words has you thinking of all the instances he could say them in.

“What do they call you when you’re not flying a plane?”

“Jake. And your name, pretty lady?”

“Y/n.” You stick a hand out toward him. Jake reaches forward, taking your hand lightly into yours. The two of you stand there, shaking hands for what feels like an eternity. Neither one of you wanting to break the contact.

“Fuck, Bozo. You never mentioned how beautiful your sister is,” Jake says to your brother, but never taking his eyes off you.

“Because you’re a fucking playboy, Bagman,” he says.

“Funny,” Jake comments.

And you’d gladly let him.

“A playboy, huh?” You quip.

Jake shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe I just haven’t met the right lady yet.”

The way he peers into your eyes has you sipping your mixed drink in order to hold some of your sanity. This man has the potential to ruin you.

And you’d gladly welcome it.

Grabbing his hand, you pull him toward the beer pong table. “Be my partner.” You fix him with one of your award winning smiles.

“Anything for you, darlin’,” he drawls. Gah, that accent is gonna be the death of you. The two of you fall into a steady rhythm, beating your brother and another aviator, Rooster, effortlessly.

Jake holds up his hand for a high five. When your hand meets his, his fingers lace between yours. He pulls you into him. You can’t be sure if the vodka is making you lightheaded, or the way your body feels pressed against his.

“I’m having the time of my life with you, sweet thing,” he says into your ear. You giggle into his chest. You actually giggle. You’ve never giggled in your life.

“What would you say if I needed to kiss you?” Jake asks against your temple. Spying your brother working the makeshift bar, you grab Jake’s hand. You lead Jake down an alley situated between two class buildings.

“I’d say, kiss me, Hangman,” you say, grabbing his ugly, orange jersey to pull him toward you. One of his hands braces his weight against the wall, just outside your shoulder. He has you completely caged in, that strong body hovering over yours. Jake reaches up to pull his hat from his head. He casually holds the hat up, blocking anyone from seeing the two of you.

Between Jake’s kisses and your brother’s mixed drink, you’re feeling all kinds of good. Not wanting any of it to stop, you grip his jersey tighter, pulling him as close as you can get him.

A low groan escapes his mouth, and the fact that he’s seemingly affected by you the same way you are by him has you reeling.

“A gentleman would at least take you out first before kissing you like this,” he murmurs.

“Oh yeah?” you question, not really letting his words soak in.

“Mhmm. Too bad I am not feeling too gentlemanly, right now.” Jake deepens the kiss, and your hands leave his jersey and thread through his hair.

“Good,” you breathe.

Your watch buzzes, pulling you from Jake’s tantalizing kisses. Taking a peek, your brother’s name appears across it.

Where the fuck are you? We have to go into the stadium.

Jake pulls his phone from his back pocket. “Bozo,” he murmurs.

“Where are your seats?” You ask, still breathless from his kissing.

“Next to you,” he says, placing once more kiss to your lips. Pulling you from the wall, he plops his hat onto your head.

“Fuck, my dads going to be so pissed I’m falling for a girl in purple & gold,” Jake says shaking his head. “Lead the way, darlin’.”

[withahappyrefrain]

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.

Part 3 is up!

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

[demxters]

—LOVING YOU IS ENOUGH

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

dagger squad college!au

summary: a week after the fight that tore you apart, jake finds out about the accident. (part 2 of a losing game)

wc: 9.3k 

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), recommended to read a losing game first, angst galore, swearing, mentions of alcohol, drunk driving (don't do it), bad parental relationships, academic pressure, hospitals, description of injuries 

part of the loving you universe || find it on ao3 here

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

Jake Seresin used to think he had no regrets in his life. Every time he was close to feeling as if that were so, the universe found a way to turn it around and prove to him that he made the right choice. Choosing to go to USC for instance, instead of staying in his home state of Texas, he thought was the biggest mistake he had made in his life. Then USC led him to Delta Chi where he made lifelong friends, and ultimately he met you. So no, Jake Seresin had no regrets in life. Yet as he sat under the fluorescent white lights of the sterile hospital waiting room, Jake was able to think of one. 

All the days passed by in a blur, with Jake finding himself in a robotic routine that helped him get through the day:

Wake up 

Go to class

Eat 

Do not think about Ace 

Nap 

Eat 

Do not think about Ace 

(attempt to) Sleep

It wasn’t the healthiest of routines, but it was enough to keep him surviving. At least until he began receiving your texts. Your apologies and declarations of love made him weak, making it much harder for him to stand his ground and give himself the space that he told himself he needed. With each passing day, he found it harder to convince himself that space is what he actually wanted. So he silenced your notifications. The bright red badge continued to grow in number and it took all of his power to not give in and click your contact. 

By the fifth day, Jake thought he was actually doing pretty well. He was even studying for his finals and going to every single one of his study groups that you had suggested he try. Even as one thing or another always led back to a reminder of you, his self control was much more restrained and he felt just a little bit lighter. 

Jake missed you like hell, that was for sure. But maybe this fight was a sign for him to work on himself. To be better not just for you, but for himself as well. 

So he did what he thought was best by pulling a page from your book and choosing to throw himself into his work. He shut everyone out, refusing to go to any outings with Javy and the gang. He didn’t answer his phone and barely left his room other than to go to classes or use the bathroom. Jake ignored the fact that in doing so, he was neglecting his physical and mental health. In turn, making this coping strategy of his more harmful than good. While he thought his obsession with his isolation and studying was “making himself better,” he didn’t realize that the only thing he was really doing was actively avoiding the problem at hand. 

But as day seven rolled around, Jake’s fake it till you make it attitude came crashing down. Upon returning back to his and Javy’s shared room in the Frat House after his final exam, Jake fell onto his bed and finally let himself feel. 

Jake Seresin has never felt so alone. After days of avoiding, he gave himself permission to think about you–to miss you. Remembering the last time he saw you and the last moment you shared, he could feel the tears that began to gather on his lash line. Too tired to hold it in, he let his emotions go. He let the sobs and cries for help he has been burying in his chest break free. He was tired, so damn tired, of pretending like everything was okay. Like he was okay. 

He wanted someone to notice that something was off with him, that something happened to make him feel absolutely miserable in his own skin. However, everyone was too caught up in their own whirlwinds of final exams, studying, and relationships to notice that Jake was struggling to stay afloat without his life preserver–without you. 

His heart ached and longed for you. Your voice, your touch, your love. If he could take it all back he would. He would’ve come back to you without a second thought. Jake would have gathered you in his arms and sat with you all night long until the two of you could work it out. Because he wasn’t Hangman anymore. He wouldn’t leave you out to dry. Yet somehow he managed to do exactly that. 

With the only thing on his mind being you, he finally mustered up the courage to read all of the texts you had sent him days prior. The first few made his heart ache, reading your heartfelt apologies and declarations of love was enough to make him start crying all over again. Teary eyed smiles graced his features at your small anecdotes and pictures of things that reminded you of him. 

He could hear your voice and see your mannerisms in his head at each text he reads through. 

Jake’s euphoria is interrupted by the fifth call he has received from Natasha. He rolls his eyes before immediately declining her call. Nat probably finally talked to you about what happened and he figured she was calling to rip him a new one. He definitely wasn’t in the mood for that right now. 

His smile grows as he scrolls through his phone, especially at the photo of a golden retriever you saw on campus that “looked like him.” A playful scoff leaves him at that as he imagines the way you would’ve jumped up and down on the tips of your toes, clutching onto his arm, as you justified how he was a golden retriever in human form. This was the closest he felt to you in days and he wished for it to never end. 

Jake continued on, savoring every good night and “I love you” text, every apology, and every good luck you wished him on his exams. Though one series of texts was enough to have the fullness in Jake’s heart flushed empty. He reads them over and over again, praying that he read them wrong. 

I failed my exams, Jake. I don’t know what to do. 

His heart skips a beat. 

I can’t go home this summer. I won’t. I can’t face my parents, they’ll hate me forever. 

But the worst of them all, the one he begs was a prank being played on him by the universe read: I’m taking your silence as a sign that I’ve fucked us up beyond repair. I love you, Jake Seresin, even if you no longer love me.

He’s going to be sick. Sure he was mad, but he never wanted you to ever think that he didn’t love you anymore. That was just a statement that could never be true. Jake was done wallowing. He was done making you both suffer because he wasn’t man enough to confront you. Swallowing his fears and his pride, he begins formulating a text to ask you to meet him at The Hard Deck–somewhere familiar, though not too intimate just yet. 

He’s about to press send when a phone call from Javy interrupts his screen. Jake instantly presses decline, however, he barely has another second before Javy’s name pops up again. 

With an agitated sigh, Jake finally answers the phone, swearing up and down that whatever he was calling for better be something good. “The hell you want, Javy?” 

“Jake–” he starts. 

“Look, I’ve been getting calls from Nat all day and I’m assuming that’s why you’re calling me right now,” Jake vents. “But I really, really don’t have time for a lecture from either of you right now, man.” 

“Jake.” Javy’s voice shifts into something more somber, more serious. “Ace’s been in an accident.” 

It’s as if his feet have processed the information long before his brain did. Jake blacks out, barely recognizing the actions in which he’s pulling on his shoes and rushing out of his room and into the common living area. 

The air is knocked out of his lungs, forcing him to grasp for leverage on the edge of the table. Jake can hear Bradley asking what’s wrong but all he can focus on is Javy’s breathing, the sound of people rushing around in the background. The phone slips from his hand and he feels like his entire rib cage is caving in on itself, crushing his heart. Black spots swim on his vision and there’s a hand on his chest telling him to breathe.

“Come on, Seresin,” Bradley’s voice comes through. “Breathe.” 

A heavy exhale escapes him as he desperately tries to catch his breath. He’s muttering an incoherent string of words, stumbling his way through the room and trying to get to the front door. 

Bradley is right on his tail, yanking on his own pair of shoes and grabbing the phone that Jake haphazardly dropped on the floor in the middle of his attack. “You gotta tell me what’s going on, man, you’re scaring me.” 

Jake abruptly stops at the front door, turning to look at Bradley over his shoulder with something worse than heartbreak in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything more other than, “Ace. It’s Ace.” 

That’s all Bradley needs to hear before he’s grabbing the car keys from Jake’s hands and dialing Javy’s number back into Jake’s phone. 

Jake could hardly remember when he got to the hospital, let alone how he was able to navigate himself to get to the ER without help when the only thing on his mind was you. He couldn’t even recall what Javy had said about the extent of your injuries, just that you were still unconscious from the car accident. 

Upon reaching the ER Jake saw Nat sitting in the waiting room with her head in her hands while Javy sat beside her and gently rubbed a comforting hand up and down her back. 

Bradley and Jake’s heavy footsteps alert the couple. Nat’s head shoots up, her red rimmed and teary eyes locking on Jake’s. She’s storming over in seconds, pushing at his chest angrily. 

“Why the hell didn’t you pick up your phone?” 

“Nat–” he starts, only to be silenced with another harsh shove. He takes the brunt of the hit, knowing he deserved every single one and worse. “I’m sorry.” Jake winces at how pathetic he sounds. 

Natasha shakes her head with disappointment clouding her features. “Sorry isn’t gonna fix this.” 

Javy joins the group, nodding at Bradley as he gestures for him to sit down. He places a hand on Jake’s shoulder asking him to do the same. He only brushes Javy’s hand off, taking a step closer to Nat. 

“Is she…is she okay?” He braces himself for the worst. Jake’s heart beats so fast against his ribcage that he swears he could feel the muscle begin to ache. 

Natasha inhales shakily before collapsing into the nearest seat. “I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” The fear in his veins begins to mix with annoyance and fury. The rational side of him knew he shouldn’t be mad at Nat, but the only thing occupying his thoughts was the idea of you not being okay. Having to hear that you were in the hospital was already bad enough. He doesn’t think he could take anything more. 

“I mean, I don’t know!” Nat’s voice rises with that same frustration and fear. “All the lady on the phone said was that she was in a car accident with four other people from our school. From what I understand, the others made it out okay, but the car that t-boned them…” Her voice wavers, recalling the words she heard earlier that evening and imagining the worst. “The other car hit Ace’s side head on. She took most of the impact. The other four made it out okay with barely any scratches.” 

Jake’s hands are shaking as he braces them on his knees, desperate to catch his breath. He didn’t realize his knees had hit the floor until he felt the sting from the solid ground. But he didn’t have it in him to care about anything other than you right now. Jake desperately tries to piece everything together from your texts from the night before but nothing was making sense. Everything he was trying to understand came out between shallow breaths. “Where did she go? Why was she out so late? Who was she with? Why weren’t any of you with her?” 

“Jake,” Bradley interferes, squeezing his shoulder as a gentle reminder to breathe. 

Jake catches the way Javy clenches his jaw from the corner of his eye which has him demanding answers. “Javy.” There was something his friends weren’t telling him, making the searing hot anger in his blood begin to boil. 

Nat saves her boyfriend by giving up the information for him. “Before you get upset, you need to understand that she didn’t tell any of us where she was going. None of us had really seen her lately and just assumed she was stressed out from finals. We didn’t think things were this bad.” 

“What aren’t you guys telling me?” 

“Jake,” Javy starts cautiously. He kneels down beside his friend, speaking nice and slow, almost like he was conversing with a child. “If we tell you, you have to promise to stay calm.” 

He scoffs in disbelief, rolling his eyes at his best friend. “How do you think I’ll be able to stay calm? I just found out my girlfriend has been in an accident and no one wants to tell me what the hell is going on!” 

“Javy, just tell him. He deserves to know,” Bradley sighs. 

“Damn right, I deserve to know. I’m her boyfriend!” Jake’s seething as he gets up and starts pacing back and forth. People are beginning to stare but he doesn’t give a damn. 

It’s Nat’s turn to grow agitated. “Really? Because last I heard the two of you were on a break.” 

“Wait, what?” Javy looks at his best friend in bewilderment. 

Nat shoots him a look that says, I’ll explain it all later. 

“Doesn’t matter if we were on a break or not. She’s still my girl and I need to know what happened.” 

The conviction in his tone and the strength on his face are enough to make Javy and Nat cave. Hiding this from him would only make things worse than they already were. 

Nat doesn’t dare to meet Jake’s eye as she says, “She was with some Alpha Sigs and their girlfriends. Everyone in the car was intoxicated. Even the guy at the wheel. They were coming from the Alpha Sig house. I don’t know what the hell they were doing in a car like that but I know the Sigs are in interrogation with the police right now.” 

Bradley clenches his fist. “Those bastards.” 

“Ace was the only one whose condition was critical.” The word critical falls short on her tongue, being whispered into the tense atmosphere. 

Jake’s silence is unnerving. They were expecting an outburst of some sort. Some screaming, maybe even some physical aggression yet not of it came. The sound that fell from Jake’s lips was worse than anything they could’ve imagined. 

It was as if everyone in the room heard his heartbreak as he was unable to control the tears that fell from his eyes. The feeling of overwhelming guilt rushed over him at the realization that he should have been there. That this was all his fault. You would have never humored the idea of an Alpha Sig party in the first place if the two of you had just talked everything out. But you weren’t thinking straight, and neither was he, leading the both of you towards the path of least resistance. Instead, Jake had to be stubborn and sensitive. He couldn’t just man up and admit that you were more important than his ego and pride. 

Nothing matters to him anymore upon his epiphany other than needing to see you. You were the only one that could help him. 

“I need to see her,” he says through nasally breaths. 

During Jake’s spiral, Nat had let tears of her own fall. “They’re not letting any of us see her right now. Just family.” The last part tastes like acid on her tongue. 

“We’re her family. They need to let me see her,” he begs. Jake remembers you telling him that he and your friends were truly the only family you have ever known. 

“Biological, Jake. We can’t. Not until her parents get here.” She doesn’t even try to hide the scowl on her face. 

“Well, where the hell are they?” Jake questions. 

“Bora Bora? Or was it Barbados? I have no fucking clue. The nurse said it sounded like they were more upset about their vacation being cut short than their own daughter being in the hospital.” 

Jake hates that he wasn’t too surprised to hear that. How ironic that the real people you considered family were here and yet they wouldn’t even let them see you. 

Jake swallows, trying his best to ignore the stickiness of his throat. “Then I guess I’m staying here until then.” 

Javy, Natasha, and Bradley share a look of uncertainty at his words. Certainly, it wasn’t healthy for him to be there all day and all night waiting for your parents to get there. It was Jake’s determined look and sureness that also let them know that there was no talking him out of this. The three make a silent, unspoken pact to watch over the boy until then. 

Jake wasn’t giving up. Not now, not ever. Leaving you was the biggest mistake he has ever made. He was never going to let that happen again. 

Seventy-two hours later and Jake was still left in the dark about your condition. He desperately wanted to sneak into your room and see you. He was close to lying to the nurses and saying he was your cousin if that was what he needed to do. But the rest of his friends convinced him to be patient. Though it hurt, the pain lessened with them around. 

Like clockwork, the group would come to the hospital to wait for any news and to take care of Jake. The mornings would consist of Javy and Natasha bringing Jake a new change of clothes and breakfast. His afternoons were spent with Bradley dragging him back home to take a quick shower while Bob stayed at the hospital until they returned. The first day was like pulling teeth with Jake. The scene would have been quite amusing, if not for the seriousness of their situation. Bradley looked like he was dragging a child through the hospital with how stubborn Jake was being. A quick phone call to Javy had him fixing his attitude. 

“You don’t want the first impression Ace gets of you after so long to be that you stink, do you?” he had said. 

So he reluctantly obliged, returning back to the hospital freshly bathed under 45 minutes flat. 

Jake’s evenings were spent with Mickey and Reuben force feeding him dinner and trying to distract him with mediocre board games. 

The next day, the cycle would repeat. Then again on the next. Their distractions were welcomed and he appreciated how they have been there for the both of you through everything. When night fell and the waiting room emptied, Jake stayed right where he was. 

He would bury himself into the neck of his sweatshirt and try to get as much sleep as he could. Sleep didn’t come easy to Jake. All of the “what if’s” and the fear of missing the moment you’d wake clouded his thoughts to the point where sleep just seemed absolutely impossible. 

The only ones left in the waiting room were the few straggling family members waiting for their loved ones and the nurses who passed by every now and then. The dim lighting and eerie silence, bar the sound of heart monitors and the occasional code call, were more than enough to have the voices in Jake’s head amplify in volume. 

It was his own voice, berating him for not checking up on him sooner. For being hard headed and too full of pride to approach you first. It was Javy’s, telling him that you got into an accident. It was your last I love you. No, not last. He won’t entertain that idea. 

No matter how much he willed himself not to, he couldn’t help but think to the last time the both of you spoke. Jake hated himself for not saying those three words back to you. He never thought that one choice would lead to the possibility of never hearing your voice again, touching your soft skin, or seeing your bright eyes full of life. Of never loving you again. What hurt him the most though, was the possibility that your last thought of him may be that he didn’t love you anymore. That was far from the truth. 

He loved you more than he thought he was capable of loving someone. Jake has had his fair share of girlfriends and flings, but not one of them made him feel the way you did with something as simple as a look in his direction. That’s all it took with you. One look and Jake knew you were it for him. Nothing else mattered. 

Jake hated himself for making you doubt that. Jake hated himself for leaving that night and most of all he hated himself for not saying it back. Now, all he wanted to do was shower you in love and reassure you that despite the sting of your words, he never stopped loving you. He can’t imagine what he would’ve done if he was in your shoes. Right now, he wished he was. If he could be in your place and take your pain, he would. 

But he can’t and if something worse were to happen to you, Jake would be the one to live with that pain and burden. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if it came to that. 

It’s funny to think that three years ago, Jake would have rolled his eyes and scoffed at the image of himself being hopelessly in love. Now you were his everything–the thing he couldn’t imagine his life without. 

It was a miracle that he was able to fall asleep that night with no nightmares. The exhaustion must have finally caught up to him because his sleep was so deep that he woke up to Javy frantically shaking his shoulders to get him to wake. 

His eyes snapped open as he came to. His senses readjusted to the environment around him before remembering where he was and why he was there. 

Javy sounded like he was underwater as Jake shook himself awake. His vision finally clears and he sees the rest of his friends already there in the room. A quick glance outside was enough to tell him he slept through breakfast and probably lunchtime too. 

Jake, still feeling groggy, was completely disregarding everything his best friend was saying. He assumed he was being given the same spiel he’s heard for the past three days about needing to eat and take care of himself. 

Then Javy says something that has Jake snapping wide awake. 

He barely gives him another chance to repeat himself before Jake is scrambling to his feet with bleary eyes and disheveled hair. He had no other cares in the world right now other than to confirm that what Javy had said is true. 

The sweet nurse who Jake had familiarized himself with during his stay gently caught him by the wrist and tugged him towards the hall. 

“Her parents got here an hour ago, but since she woke she’s only been asking for you,” Nurse Donna informed him. 

A small flutter works its way around Jake’s rib cage and down to his stomach upon hearing her words. He can no longer contain the nerves that flood through his system as he continues to clumsily follow Donna, tripping over his own feet in the process. 

When Donna finally lets go of his wrist, he stops outside the door marked with your last name for just a moment. Hesitation and fear cloud his mind. Maybe Donna was mistaken. What if you weren’t actually asking for him? What if she had misheard? What if–

“It’s okay, honey. Go see your girl.” Donna urges him with an encouraging smile. 

His girl. God, he missed hearing that. He gives her a small nod of gratitude and exhales softly. Jake’s shaky hand reaches for the silver knob. Giving it a forceful push, he makes his way through the door frame. His feet skid to stop at the threshold and his breath hitches in his throat as he’s met with the sight of those beautiful eyes he’s been praying to see for days on end. 

Two Years Ago 

Jake didn’t understand why you were so cold towards him. You were even able to warm up to his frat brothers Javy and Reuben. He was dying for it to be his turn. It got to the point where Jake would just breathe while standing beside you and you’d let out a loud groan and move beside Bradley. 

Jake hated to admit that he was jealous of Bradley’s ability to get along with you so easily. After your little moment in the library, he thought things between the two of you would be easier, lighter. Instead, it became the absolute opposite and Jake was close to doing something stupid just so you would pay attention to him again. He doesn’t know why, but ever since that day in the library, he found himself desperate for your attention. He was filled with the satisfaction he used to get when flirting with sorority girls. He hasn’t been able to feel that since you. 

He doesn’t know what he did to make you dislike him so much. If only he knew, then maybe he could do something to rectify your predetermined notions of him. 

Even now as he attempted to butter up an Alpha Phi girl, his green eyes were constantly drawn back to your figure on the other side of the aisle. The high pitched voice of the girl in front of him turned into white noise as Jake zeroed in on you. Suddenly, getting this girl to come to the party tonight was the last thing on his mind. 

You hadn’t noticed him yet. If you had, you probably would’ve made a B-line toward the exit already. You were standing on your tiptoes with your tongue slightly poking out from the corner of your mouth. Brows furrowed in concentration, you desperately tried to grab a book on the top shelf. After a lousy first attempt, you try a second time. This time, you rock back on your heels for momentum before launching yourself upwards. Your second try is just as unsuccessful as your first. 

Jake shakes his head with amusement as he watches you try for a third time. Your third attempt was just as successful as the last two, leaving you standing empty handed. 

“Hey, Becky? Why don’t we finish this conversation another time, yeah?” He gently pats the girl on the arm, all while keeping his gaze trained on you. Jake barely waits for the girl’s response, missing her disgruntled correction of, My name’s Brittany! that falls from her lips. 

You’re staring heatedly at the book on the top shelf. He strides over to you, patiently waiting for you to notice him. He stands beside you, also looking up intently at the book, with his arms crossed over his chest. His lips quirk up at the corners as he notes the way your body tenses upon sensing his presence. 

All you do is roll back your shoulders as if preparing for one last jump. Jake stops you before you can even make your attempt. 

“Sit tight, Ace, your savior’s here.” His left hand hovers over the small of your back while he extends his right arm to reach the book you were looking for. An over dramatic sigh leaves his lips as he brings his arm down and hands the book out to you. His green eyes twinkle with delight as you cross your arms in annoyance. 

You turn to meet his gaze, your own stare burning into his. 

Jake’s stomach does the strangest thing upon catching your eye. He suddenly finds himself mesmerized by their beautiful color. The intensity of your stare makes him feel like you can see right through him, all the way into the depths of the most hidden parts of his soul. He could get lost in them if you let him. 

Breaking eye contact at the intensity of his gaze, you scoff, snatching the book from his hands. Swiftly turning on your heels, you make your way toward the end of the aisle. You stop right at the end and pause before turning over your shoulder to see Jake still eyeing you in bewilderment. “Careful on your way out, Seresin. Your head’s getting so big I’m afraid it might be a bit of a tight squeeze.” 

For once, his brain seems to have shut off and he’s unable to think up a cocky or witty remark. He watches you go with intrigue and admiration. His stomach does another somersault as he recalls the exact shade of your eyes and the sway of your hips.

 You are going to be the death of him. 

“Jake?” 

Just like that, he can finally breathe again. Tears gather in his eyes faster than his feet can bring him to the edge of the bed. Jake’s sweeping your hand that’s not hooked up to the IV in his and he lets out a breath of relief at the feeling of your skin on his. A feeling that he was afraid he’d never get to have again. 

“Jake,” you sigh, the moment his hand is in yours. You breathe his name like it was your first full breath of fresh air. It falls from your lips like a prayer. Soft, sweet, and full of conviction. 

He gives himself a moment to scan your body. Jake’s heart fractures even more than he thought was possible given everything he’s been through this past week. Upon seeing the state you were in, anguish crashes down onto his body. His shoulders feel heavy and his knees are weak at the sight of your pretty face all battered and bruised from various hits you took. There’s a nasty gash on your forehead that was barely holding itself together with the bandage that was placed there. Your right arm was in a cast and your left knee was propped up and wrapped up in a bandage of its own. He hopes that this was the worst of your injuries, but he knows that the extent of them goes deeper than what he can see with his naked eye. Your skin was adorned in a variety of scrapes and scratches, all of which Jake desperately wished he could kiss away. 

The shallow movements of your chest and the pained whimper that leaves your lips have him carefully running his other hand over the side of your head, softly soothing you. He bends down to gently rest his forehead against yours and the second his skin makes contact with yours, he’s unable to stop the tears that begin to fall. Jake’s eyes squeeze shut and the heaviness that has been pushing on his chest since the moment he walked away from you finally subsides. His grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly as if to tell himself you’re here, you’re alive, you’re okay. The same words leave him in a hushed whisper that he shares between the two of you. Though they were more of a reassurance for himself. 

A shaky exhale escapes you at his words and the way you’re gasping for air signifies that you’ve started crying as well. Part of it was from the tight pain in your chest and the other from the utter disbelief that this was real–that Jake was really here. 

The first thing you thought of the second you woke was Jake. You were positive that he wasn’t going to be there, but you desperately begged for him anyway. The shock on your parents' faces that clouded your vision quickly turned to disgust as you refused to listen to their words. Your mother had tried to reach out to you, but you thrashed in her touch and frantically shook your head as you cried out for Jake. 

You were in near hysterics and your parents were staring at you in shock and horror but you didn’t care. You didn’t care that they were there when all you wanted was Jake. 

Your mother begged Nurse Donna to sedate you. The sour look on Donna’s face was missed by your mother as she left the room. She thought that Donna had gone to grab the sedative. However, when she returned without a syringe and with a boy, your mother almost fainted. 

You, on the other hand, thought you were dreaming when you saw him walk through that door. You just couldn’t believe that even after everything, Jake was there. Then he touched you and you broke down. His scent invaded you. His touch that you’ve craved like a drug for days on end was finally yours again. The reality that he was there was more than enough to have you breaking down again. 

“I’m sorry,” you slur, still slightly drowsy from the medications. “I’m sorry,” you mutter over and over again as he places his forehead on yours. 

You feel him pull you closer and shush you gently as tears of his own run down his face. You did this. You made him cry. If your limbs weren’t so heavy and numb you would’ve brushed away all the tears that ran down his perfect face until his eyes were finally dry. 

Jake’s elation shatters at your words. You had absolutely nothing to be sorry for right now. If anything, he should be the one on his knees begging for your forgiveness. He opens his mouth to speak before getting cut off by someone in the corner of the room clearing their throat. 

Jake’s attention was so focused on you that he hadn’t noticed your parents standing there this entire time. Hot, white fury fuels him at the sight of them looking more bothered than worried for their daughter. 

“You didn’t tell us you had a boyfriend,” your mother practically sneers at him. 

Jake wills himself to pull it together, for your sake. 

“Mom–” you start. 

“How does that make you feel, son? Knowing your girlfriend didn’t tell her own parents about you?” This time, it’s your father who speaks up, eyeing Jake up and down. “Insignificant, I would say.” 

“Dad! Stop it!” 

The stress in your voice is evident and the spike of your heart monitor grabs Jake’s attention. 

You barely had enough strength to defend Jake against their venomous words. He looks at you with wide eyes, asking for your permission to speak to them. Had this been under different circumstances, Jake wouldn’t need to think twice about biting his tongue. He probably would have snapped back at them too if he didn’t notice the unnecessary stress this entire situation was putting on your shoulders. 

You shake your head at him before glancing toward your parents. “Please. Please leave.” You didn’t want them here right now. You didn’t need anyone but Jake right now. 

Offended, your mother scoffs. “You’re choosing a boy over your own parents?” 

This time, Jake decides to jump to your defense. “I believe she asked you to leave.” He looks over his shoulder, narrowing his gaze at your parents who stand unbothered across the room. 

“Why should we listen to you?” Your mother fights back. 

You start feeling lightheaded from the entire situation and you lay your head back, sliding out of Jake’s hold slightly. “Please,” you ask with the little strength you have. 

Noticing the warmth of your skin leaving him, Jake gently follows the movement of your head and cradles it while helping you lower your head to the pillow. His full attention is back on you as he scans you for any more distress. Jake was getting angrier by the minute. Couldn’t your parents see how much stress they were causing you? Why wouldn’t they just leave? He was close to yelling at them now but was saved by Donna entering the room. 

“Your daughter asked you to leave,” she tells them sternly. “Now I suggest you listen before I call security to have you both dragged out of here.” 

Your mother’s jaw drops and your father shakes his head with a scowl. Putting his hands up in surrender, your father is the first to leave. 

Your mother, however, lingers for just a moment more. “I can’t believe we left the Bahamas for this.” She always had to have the last word. 

Once the room is free of their presence you heavily exhale, looking at Donna with a grateful smile.

 She nods with a small smile of her own. “I’ll let you kids have a moment. Oh, and don’t worry, I’ll be right outside in case your parents try to come back.” 

“Thanks, Donna,” Jake sighs, his eyes never leaving yours. 

She winks at the both of you before softly closing the door on her way out. 

“Are you–” the both of you say at the same time. 

You avert your gaze with a nervous chuckle and Jake smiles, urging you to go first. 

You take a moment to observe the boy in front of you. This Jake was not the one you saw the last time. This Jake was tired and worn out. If the dullness of his green eyes and the dark circles that surrounded them weren’t a telltale sign of his exhaustion, it was the paleness of his skin and his sullen cheeks. 

“Are you okay?” You ask timidly. For the first time since you started dating, you find yourself feeling incredibly anxious about him. You were the reason why he looked like this, so empty and void of life. You didn’t even deserve for him to be here right now. 

Jake shakes his head with a sad smile playing on his lips. “You’re the one in a hospital gown and you’re asking if I’m okay?” 

He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead and you almost cry from the contact. 

“That’s my Ace, always worrying about me.” So much fondness shines in his eyes, causing you to finally break. 

The tears start flowing again, scaring Jake just a little bit. 

“Your Ace?” You sob. Somehow, you knew he had already forgiven you, but you still didn’t think you deserved it. “How can you even stand being here with me after everything I did? I hurt you, Jake. I hurt you and I am so, so sorry.” 

“Hey,” he whispers, softly stroking your hair. “It’s okay.” 

“No, no it’s not okay. Nothing about this is okay!” You hiccup and hiss at the sting it causes in your rib cage. 

“Ace, breathe for me sweetheart, come on.” He gently coaxes you with teary eyes of his own. He needs to hold it together for your sake. He needs to be strong for both of you. 

“It’s not okay,” you sniffle. 

“Shh…” Jake sees how much of a toll this entire thing has taken on you. 

Your eyelids are drooping heavily, but you will to keep them open. You’re afraid that once you close them, you’ll wake up to find that this was all just a dream. That Jake was never really here to begin with and that you were all alone. 

Jake pulls the empty chair that was beneath your bed closer to him and takes a seat. He encapsulates your hand between both of his and brings them to his lips. “It’s okay, Ace. Sleep,” he guides. 

“No.” You tiredly fight against the exhaustion that is threatening to take over. “No.” 

“Sleep,” Jake requests again. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.” 

“You promise?” You whimper. 

“I promise.” He gives your hand another kiss for safe measure, already seeing that your eyes have already begun to close. With his lips still pressed against your skin, he swears, “I’ll be here, Ace. I promise I’m never leaving you again. I love you. So fucking much.” 

Jake doesn’t miss the faint smile that ghosts your lips as sleep finally takes control of your body. 

Two Years Ago 

He finds you lying on the dewy lawn of the Delta Chi house splayed out like a starfish. “What in the…” he mutters to himself as he makes his way towards you. 

Jake stands over you, coming into your vision upside down causing you to giggle. 

“Ace?” 

“Hangman!” You exclaim with a dopey smile on your lips. 

He rolls his eyes at the name and crouches down above you. “What are you doing out here all alone?” 

You sigh dreamily. “Stargazing.” 

Jake catches the scent of cheap beer and jungle juice on your lips, letting him know you were currently far from sober. That makes him worry just a little bit. Last he heard you didn’t drink. You despised it actually. 

“How much have you had to drink?” He asks for safe measures. 

Another giggle erupts from your lips as you hold up all ten of your fingers and even your feet, wiggling your toes in your sandals. “This many.” 

That’s all Jake needs to confirm that you are long gone. “Where’s the rest of your friends?” He glances around looking for any sign of your roommates. All he sees are drunk couples making out on the front porch and the occasional flash of disco lights that escapes through the front windows and open door. 

“Dunno,” is all you say with a lazy shrug. 

Jake sighs, finding himself caught in a dilemma. He had a smoking hot blonde waiting for him to come back inside and bring her upstairs. So why did he feel so guilty about the thought of leaving you out here to fend for yourself? The two of you were hardly even friends, acquaintances at most. He only saw you after your group project because his friends mingled with your circle of friends after miraculously getting along upon meeting each other. 

Yet as he looked down at you staring awe struck up at the sky, he knew he couldn’t just leave you out here alone. Pushing himself off his knees, he groans. “Mind if I join you?” 

You shrug. “Mi casa es tu casa. Or no, wait. Tu casa es mi casa. Get it? Cause this is your house?” You laugh at your own joke. 

Your laughter is infectious, plaguing Jake with a few chuckles of his own. He lays on the damp ground beside you, resting his arms behind his head. “Not really my house, darling. It’s the fraternity’s.” 

“Same thing,” you wave him off. 

The two of you lay there in comfortable silence, watching the night sky. Jake had to admit, this was the most fun he has probably had all night even if you were doing nothing but looking at the sky. 

Out here with you, Jake felt like he could let his guard down. His cocky, playboy, frat boy persona disappeared. When around everyone else, he felt like he was expected to act a certain way but being out here with you, he knew you expected nothing of the sort. 

That was one of the first things that caught him completely off guard when he met you. All it took was one look at him and you were picking him apart, dissecting all of the fronts he put up around others. That’s why you bothered him so much. He barely knew anything about you and somehow, it was like you knew everything about him. You saw through his charms and arrogance, leaving no room for any funny business. 

Jake’s shoulders fall from his ears and he lets himself relax. 

Hearing you shift beside him, he wants to ask you what was on your mind. His curiosity never failed to make itself known when you were around. Again, he knew that you didn’t drink, so why were you absolutely wasted right now? 

The question is on the tip of his tongue, begging to be asked, but he exhales gratefully when you speak up first. 

“My parents are assholes who care about nothing but my grades and their image.” 

He’s not sure if he was meant to hear what you just said or if you realize it’s him that you’re talking to. So he stays quiet and patiently waits for you to continue. 

“It’s parents’ weekend next week and they don’t even bother to answer any of my calls or texts about it. And when I do hear back from them it’s a halfhearted apology that they can’t make because they’re off on the other side of the world.” A dry laugh escapes you. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I invited them. I knew they weren’t going to show up, whether they were actually here or not. I mean… is it too much to ask for them to just show up and be proud of me?” 

Jake sits up with a frown on his lips upon hearing your voice crack. He hesitates, unsure of what to say. He was never good at the whole comfort thing, especially when it came to crying girls. He used to try to comfort his sisters when they would cry, but he always just seemed to make things worse. He didn’t want to make you feel worse than you already did. “I’m sure they’re proud of you, Ace. They’d be idiots not to be.” 

You scoff, seemingly sobering up just enough to push yourself to sit up beside him. “I guess they’re idiots then.” 

Jake’s mouth runs faster than his brain can manage to keep up.“Hey, at least you have parents. I mean...look at Bradley.” 

That pulls a snort and a teary laugh from you. “Oh my god! Jesus, Seresin…” You’re laughing. You feel bad that you are, but the delivery of Jake’s words was so nonchalant that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “You’re insane.” 

He joins in your laughter, glad that he was able to pull your attention from your inner turmoil even if it was just for a minute. “What? Am I wrong?” 

“You’re not, but come on. That was so uncalled for,” you shake your head in amusement. 

Jake sends you a toothy grin, captivated by the way your smile grows. 

“Jake!” The sound of another feminine voice catches both of your attention. The blonde he left inside earlier was running down the porch steps and in their direction. “There you are,” the girl exclaims, throwing her arms around him as she joins him on the ground. She presses an obnoxiously loud kiss to his neck with a smile. “I’ve been waiting for you, Cowboy.” 

As if suddenly realizing where you were and who you were with, you tuck your chin to your sternum and avoid his gaze. He grimaces in the other girl’s hold.“Ace–”

You go to stand, still wobbling from the alcohol but you’re coherent enough to know where you were going. “Looks like duty calls, Hangman.”

The girl gives you a cheeky smile as she moves her lips from his neck to the side of his face.  

He doesn’t miss the somber note of your tone. Jake watches you sway on your feet as you make your way back inside. He wants to reach out to you, beg you to stay but he holds himself back. With a sigh, he pulls the girl who’s clinging to his side up to her feet and flashes her a halfhearted grin. 

Even with his newfound company, Jake couldn’t get you out of his head. 

True to his word, Jake never left your side since you woke up. If the doctor’s needed to personally evaluate your condition, he would step outside but immediately come back in once the doctor gave him the okay. 

Your parents haven’t made another appearance since that first day and you were relieved. Your friends have been in and out of your hospital room once you were moved to the regular hospital floor from Urgent Care. 

Your body was still pretty weak due to the severity of your injuries but you felt stronger than you have in weeks. Being surrounded by your friends, your family, gave you some of that strength back. Most important of all, being with Jake had you feeling invincible. 

The doctors were thrilled with your rate of recovery and predicted you would be discharged in the next couple of days. 

Though Jake kept his promise to you, you still had a sliver of doubt about where the two of you stood relationship wise. You tried to bring it up a couple of times, but Jake would only respond with a shake of his before telling you not to worry about it now. 

You were just a bit afraid that this was his way of letting you down easily. That this was his way of telling you that he loved you, but he just couldn’t be in a relationship with you anymore. 

But then he’d do something as small as brushing your hair gently from your face as you ate or held your hand before you fell asleep at night and that little bit of worry would subside, if only for a moment. 

You’re laughing at Reuben’s lame attempt to sink Nat’s battleship when Jake gives you a quick kiss on the cheek muttering a soft, “I’ll be right back,” into your ear. 

You shoot him a soft smile and nod, before returning your attention to your friends’ antics. 

Meanwhile, Jake makes a quick run to the coffee machine down the hall. He barely makes it five steps there when he runs into someone right outside your door. 

He looks up and almost spews out an apology before realizing exactly who he ran into. 

The look of distaste that falls upon his face is anything but subtle. 

Your mother shares a look with your father, who sneers at the sight of him. 

Being born and raised by his southern gentleman of a father and kind hearted mother, he knew he still had to show some respect towards your parents despite his dislike for them. 

He gives them a nod as a form of greeting and silently prays that they let him slip past them. 

“You should leave now before it gets worse,” your mother speaks up. 

Jake knew he should probably ignore it. Leave your mother without the satisfaction of getting under his skin. But he couldn’t. He stops in his tracks. Glaring at them from over his shoulder, he hissed, “Excuse me?” 

Your mother only shrugs, pulling her handbag tighter over her shoulder. “She’s not worth your time or the trouble. Trust us. As her parents, we would know. How does it make you feel? Knowing you must mean so little to her that she didn’t even mention your existence to her parents.”

Jake was finally tired of biting his tongue. No one, not even your own parents, talked about you like that. Not if he could help it. “With all due respect, I know she didn’t tell you about me and frankly, I don’t blame her considering the way you treat your daughter. Besides, how would either of you know anything? You’re never here so you’d never know just how worth it your daughter is. I would walk through hell for her. Something I know neither of you would ever do.

So no, you don’t know. You don't know just how thoughtful and sweet and caring she is. You don’t know just how incredibly smart she is. Most of all, you would never understand that she is worth everything.” 

Jake is breathless at the end of his speech. His chest heaves as he catches his breath and harshly swallows from his passionate spiel. You were everything and the idea that anyone would think otherwise astonished him. 

Your mother barely bats an eye. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind completely taking her off our hands then. Considering she moved so far away from us for college, you can tell my daughter to not even bother coming back home to visit us because apparently, we’re never here for her anyway.” She storms past Jake in suppressed fury, muttering to herself, “The Bahamas!” 

Your father, on the other hand, pauses for a moment. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something and glances through the doorway before looking back at Jake and clearing his throat. “Just, um, just tell her the hospital bill will be taken care of once it comes in the mail.” He gives one last look at your hospital room before scurrying in the same direction your mother had gone. 

A sigh of relief escapes Jake’s lips from the encounter, diminishing his prior craving for caffeine. 

He makes his way back into the room to see three pairs of eyes settled on him. Jake’s a bit unnerved at all the attention he’s receiving and he’s slightly confused by the way Nat, Reuben, and you were all staring at him. 

He nervously chuckles, running a hand down the back of his neck. 

Reuben suddenly stands up, grabbing his battleship board. “I think we should continue this outside, right Nat?” 

She nods with a smile grabbing her board as well. “Yeah, let’s. We’ll give you two a minute.” Natasha squeezes your hand as she ushers out of the room. 

Jake shifts back and forth on his feet, feeling a heat of embarrassment flow through him. “You heard all of that, didn’t you?” 

A look he can’t fully decipher on your face. “Yeah, I did.” 

“I am so sorry if I crossed a line I just—“

“I love you.” You cut him off teary eyed. 

“What?” He breathes, the wideness of his growing smile no longer contained. 

You give him a smile of your own that matches the look of love and pure happiness that lights up his features. “I said I love you. I heard you, that first night you stayed over but I was too afraid to say it back. Just in case you didn’t mean it the way I did anymore. But then you…” 

Jake cups your face in his hands, nodding to encourage you to take your time. 

“But then I heard what you said to my parents and no one has ever stood up for me that way.” 

His thumbs begin to trace gentle patterns onto the apples of your cheeks. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love you and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel otherwise.” A tear finally escapes from the corner of your eye that gets gently pressed away by Jake’s lips. 

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt my love.” 

You shake your head, desperately hoping he understands that none of that matters now. “You’re here now. That’s what matters. I love you, Jake Seresin.” 

Finally, after days of waiting, he kisses you softly on the lips. It’s not rough or hungry, despite how long he’s been waiting for this moment. It’s soft, delicate, and full of love. It’s passionate and heartwarming. It’s the kind that you could feel all the way to the tips of your toes. Just like the first time. 

“I love you, Ace. You’ll never have to doubt that again.” 

Your relationship, just like your body, wasn’t one hundred percent healed. There were still many things the two of you had to talk about. 

However, knowing that Jake loved you didn’t make the unspoken parts so scary. Having him, loving him, is enough. 

a/n: a super duper, huge thank you to @blue-aconite for beta reading and being just the best support system through this entire journey <3 she even swayed my original plans for this so you should thank her for jake and ace getting back together sooner that anticipated lol as usual, reblogs, feedback, and comments are all greatly appreciated and the inbox is always open

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𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 — 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟑

—𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐏𝐎𝐏 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒. 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐘, 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆. 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘-𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆. —𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟗.𝟓𝐊 —𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅-𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟑

The first time Jake Seresin sees you, it’s across a small and crowded room. Under the Bridge by The Red Hot Chili Peppers is thumping over the bulky speakers that are haphazardly strung all around the room with extension cords and duct tape. He hates this song. He doesn’t know it yet, but so do you. 

You’d caught his eye because he spotted a familiar brick-colored button up. And, yes, as he’s looking at you now, he realizes he’s right. The breezy cargo shorts, the brown belt, the faded blue tank top--you’re dressed up as Dr. Ellie Sattler. He happens to be dressed up as Dr. Alan Grant, which means that the two of you--complete and utter strangers--are two halves of one whole costume. 

But suddenly, as Jake looks at you, he doesn’t hear Anthony Keidis or hollow balls bouncing off plastic tables or booming laughter or sloshing liquid. He doesn’t hear anything. His ears are just ringing empty silence. 

Bizarre, he thinks. His brain is never this quiet. He’s always thinking about drills or Intro to Anthropology or girls or Robert Zemeckis or home or dinner or something. Right now, it’s just you he’s thinking about.  

You’re standing by yourself at one of the few punch bowls stationed around the house, each one a different highly unnatural color with seemingly random items skimming the surface. You’re pretty sure you saw flowers floating around one of them. Curiously, you’re looking down at this particular crystal bowl and the sad orange slices floating aimlessly in the peculiarly crimson punch. Half of the stuff is gone--Jake doesn’t know how anyone is stomaching it--and you are silently and unknowingly echoing his sentiment. 

Bradley, who dragged Jake to this party in the first place--not that anyone ever has to drag Jake to a party--is standing beside him and is waiting his turn to play Beer Pong with an unruly group of men wearing togas. 

“--The trick is to just, like, fake it ‘til you make it,” Bradley’s saying, casually leaning up against the dingy clapboard walls and sipping something vaguely Everclear-ish from his solo cup. “And what I mean by that is talk as much shit as you can. Nothing is off limits. Mothers, sisters, fathers--shit, especially fathers. People are so touchy these days. Like, I once told this guy that I got his sister preg--well, anyway. That’s besides the point. Just go into the game like you’re gonna win and you’re gonna win. You know? It’s simple science, really. I was thinking of writing my thesis on it.” 

Jake, who is only half-listening as the silence fades out, hums. He doesn’t tear his eyes from your form. You’re cautiously ladling some of the punch into a chipped glass for your friend, who appeared suddenly beside you in an ill-fitting Red Riding Hood costume with glassy eyes and a broad grin, rubbing up against you like a hungry stray. 

“Right,” Jake says absently. He can hardly hear anything over the music, especially Bradley’s incessant Beer Pong codes of conduct. He’s not gonna strain himself to hear what he’s already heard at a thousand frat parties before--and he’s certainly not going to turn his face away from you. “True.” 

Bradley swallows all the sugary saliva coating his tongue and squints at the stained folding table holding the tense game beside them, wondering if the legs are gonna give. The center is already bowing. Whatever. Not his house--not his issue. He turns to Jake, who’s not looking at him or listening to him. Bradley’s known him long enough to know that by now. Jake not listening to Bradley rarely ever stops him from continuing a conversation, though. 

“And what’s really interesting about all of this is that I can say whatever I want to you right now because you’re staring at…” Bradley makes a show of following Jake’s gaze across the crowded house, eyes flitting across a few forms before he finds yours. And, yes, he knows you’re definitely the one Jake is looking at. Dr. Ellie Sattler. “Oh. Looky there. It’s your better half. Your favorite part of your favorite movie! Isn’t that cute?”

“It’s not my favorite movie,” Jake snorts indignantly--like that means anything.

He’s still watching you--your friend teetered off and you’re against the wall again, alone and looking down at your hiking boots. They look used--there’s dirt on the heels and scuffs on the toes.

He wonders if you’re judging the cobwebs in the corners of the low ceilings and the bowing door frames like he is. You look like you are--your brows pinched, your nose slightly scrunched, your eyes shadowed by the soft curl of your lashes. You look like you don’t come to many parties like this. Parties with too many people, parties with no snacks, parties with boys from the baseball team, parties with kegs, parties with sticky floors. Neither does he.    

“You dragged me to that movie, like, twenty times whenever it came out,” Bradley says, eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean it isn’t your favorite movie?” 

“What I mean is that Jurassic Park is a great movie, but it isn’t my favorite,” Jake says, mildly exasperated. He absently takes a sip of his drink and immediately wishes he hadn’t, face screwing up in disgust as the bright yellow punch oozes down his throat. He coughs softly and Bradley grins. “My favorite movie is Blue Velvet. Duh.”  

Now Bradley is screwing his face up in disgust, pretending to gag. 

“You’re so pretentious. It’s like you can’t even help it. I feel bad for you, man. Oh, look at me! I’m a film major and I just love movies that make no sense! I wanna make sweet love to Kyle MacLachlan! Notice me, David Lynch!”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jake says, smiling softly. “I’m not pretentious!”

“My favorite movie is Basic Instinct,” Bradley says proudly. And just as Jake is groaning, finally giving Bradley his full attention so Bradley can feel every ounce of Jake’s judgment, Bradley holds his hands up in defense. “Hey! Not for that scene--well, yeah for that scene--but mainly because of the gore. It’s gnarly. Plus it’s, like, very easy to understand. Digestible.” 

“You’re a simpleton,” Jake says. “Is pussy all you think about?” 

“Through and through, brother!” Bradley confirms with a grin. 

Bradley throws an arm around Jake’s shoulders, the cheap polyester of his striped Beetlejuice costume stretched to its absolute limit by his shapely biceps, and sighs happily. He looks out across the crowded room and finds your form--Jake follows his gaze. 

For a moment, the both of them just look at you. You’re bored--that much they can tell. Eyes downcast, hangnail under the wrath of your picking fingertips, mouth a flat plane. You’re way too pretty to be this bored at a party. 

“What do you think her favorite movie is, Oh-Wise-One?” Bradley asks. Jake elbows him hard and some of his drink sloshes onto the floor and his Nike’s. “Hey! Not the Carnivores, man! These are brand new!” 

“I’m doing you a favor,” Jake snorts. 

Bradley whines, rubbing his shoes with a frown.

Jake is still looking at you. You’re alone. You’ve been alone since he noticed you a few songs ago, not exactly giving off an anti-social vibe but certainly not going out of your way to make conversation with all the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Hulk Hogan’s around you. He wonders if you’re like him--if you came to this party because your friends dragged you here, if you would rather be in the comfort of your dorm watching slasher B-Movies. 

“I haven’t seen her around campus,” Jake muses softly to Bradley, brows coming together. “Maybe she’s from out of town.”

The thought makes his gut twist in a half-knot. He really, really hopes you’re not from out of town.  

Bradley shakes his head. The only time they get many out-of-towners is when there’s a football game and there isn’t another game until next weekend. 

“Maybe she’s a freshman. Or a transfer,” Bradley continues. “Who knows! Not me. Certainly not you.” 

“She’s really…” Jake says softly, brows pinching. He wants to kick himself for not being able to find the right word for what you are--but he doesn’t want to get it wrong. And his vocabulary dims in comparison to the way you make him feel by doing nothing but blink at the floor and wring your hands together. “Something.” 

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Bradley coos, pinching Jake’s cheek. 

“She’s, like--obviously she’s pretty,” Jake says. And he knows he’s being conservative with pretty. “But something else, too.” 

“She looks…disinterested,” Bradley comments. “Like she doesn’t wanna be here.” 

“I can change that,” Jake says with a deep breath. “You know. Show her a good time and all of that.” 

“And you said all I think about is pussy? Man, you’re twisted!” 

As if he’s offended, Jake faces Bradley. The tips of his ears are hot. 

“Why did you assume I was going to show her a good time with my penis? I literally never even implied that. I never even hinted at applying to that.” 

“What does and all of that mean to you then?” Bradley inquires, brows furrowed. 

“You know,” Jake says, shrugging. He swallows and shakes his head. “Maybe I’ll dance with her or something. Girls like that. I’ll ask for her hand. Like a gentleman.” 

“You’re so from Texas,” Bradley laughs. “Thinking you can square dance your way into everything. Can’t really do-si-do to the Chili Peppers.” 

Jake frowns at Bradley. 

“You’re a freak,” Jake says slowly. “Really. I mean it.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re a cornball,” Bradley complains. “C’mon, stop staring at her! Let’s just get ready for our turn!” 

Jake’s already decided that he’s not going to be playing Beer Pong with Bradley. 

“How do I walk up to her without creeping her out?” 

Bradley blinks at Jake, who is chewing the inside of his cheek like he’s really trying to figure it out. Like it’s rocket science. 

“What are you talking about? You’re wearing an Alan Grant costume. I don’t think you’re gonna creep her out. Genius.” 

Jake shoots a look at Bradley--one that he’s seen just before a knuckle to the gut or a tap to the balls. Instinctively, Bradley takes a half-step away from Jake and bumps into one of the Toga Bros. 

“I mean, like--how do I go up to her and not creep her out? What am I supposed to start with? Hey, I saw you were all alone so I decided to capitalize on that. Or should it be more along the lines of you’re dressed as my love interest and we should see if that transfers into real life? Smart-ass.” 

Bradley laughs, shaking his head. 

Jake gets into his head like this a lot. Like a lot more than anyone else realizes. Before games, before dates, before office hours, before parties. Jake is Bradley’s best friend--and has been since they were assigned roommates last year--and Bradley knows that Jake always comes out the other side unscathed no matter what his previous worries were. He’s never missed a field goal, he always gets the girl, all his professors grant extra credit, he’s always invited back to whatever frat they hit. This special weariness of Jake’s is reserved especially for Bradley--that is to say, no one else gets to see this side of him. 

“Here,” Bradley says. He grins. “I’ve got an idea!” 

And before Jake can inquire, Bradley’s slamming his fist into Jake’s cup. The neon liquid spews out and splatters all over the walls and floor--a few drops land on Jake’s shirt. He’s too shocked to speak for a second, staring at the puddle on the ground and the few people who turned to see the commotion. 

Bradley’s beaming when Jake turns to him, leaning back against the clapboards coolly, looking like a fucking idiot with his half-assed Beetlejuice makeup on and frayed green wig he bought in the kid’s section at Family Dollar. 

“You’re an idiot,” Jake says. He says this about fifteen times a day, give or take. 

Bradley holds a hand over his heart and sighs warmly. 

“You need a refill,” Bradley says, nodding towards you and the punch bowl. “Thank me later. Preferably with Gushers!” 

Jake is just about to say something else when he realizes that Bradley’s right. He does need a refill. And you are standing by the closest of the nuclear punch bowls. 

This is his in. 

“I hate that I actually do wanna thank you right now,” Jake sighs. He mulls over his decision, straightening his hat and making sure his cup is all the way empty. He turns to Bradley, who’s smiling smugly already. “How do I look?” 

“Like you’re about to dig up some dino bones,” Bradley says, giving Jake a thumbs up and a shit-eating grin. 

Jake blinks at him. 

“Fossils. You mean fossils,” Jake corrects. “Not just dino bones.”

Bradley shrugs and takes another drink somehow. 

“You say caramel I say carmel, but we all bleed the same, don’t we?” 

Jake doesn’t even respond. He just starts in your direction, his breath caught between his molars. He hopes that you don’t move before he can cross the tiny house, the sea of sweaty polyester clad bodies and latex-covered faces. 

Across the little room, right where he wants you to be, you’re chewing the inside of your cheek pensively.

He really isn’t here, you think. He really didn’t come. You press the scuffed toe of your scuffed hiking boot against the sticky floorboards and pull back softly to feel the resistance. Gross. 

You’re not sure what the worst part of all of this is. Maybe it’s the fact that your boyfriend, the one who actually likes gross little parties like this and the other half of your couple’s costume, hasn’t bothered to show his face tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that they won’t stop playing Red Hot Chili Peppers and Anthony Keidis is literally bursting your eardrums right now. Maybe it’s the fact that nothing here is drinkable. 

This night would be a lot easier if you were loaded right now. 

“Do you happen to know what flavor this is?” A man asks, Southern inflection licking the inside of your ears. “Trying to decide if I’m gonna partake in drinking the Koolaid.”  

Without looking up, you shrug your shoulders. Probably just another wayward drunk who thinks you’re the host. It’s an insult to you that someone would think you would live in squalor like this--you would never let fist-sized holes litter your walls and you would certainly never let your floors get this sticky. 

Jake clears his throat, so close to you now that he can smell the amber on your pulse points. He’s searching your face, wondering if you didn’t hear him, readjusting his hat while the party rages on all around the two of you. 

He’s standing between you and the punch bowl now, empty cup pressed into his palm, facing you rather than the drink. You don’t look up at him, but he doesn’t take his eyes off you. 

“I bet it’s watermelon,” Jake says a bit louder. “It’s always watermelon.” 

He sees the recognition flood your features--the recognition that someone is talking to you--as you finally raise your head.

Up close, even in this shitty light, Jake sees that you’re something beyond pretty, something beyond beautiful. You’re something else that he’s never seen before--better than all the rest. His ears begin to hum.  

It’s the first time you’ve ever looked at him--except that it isn’t. You take him in: his crinkled green eyes, his abrasively handsome smile, the little dimples on his cheeks, the scruffy edge of his jaw. No, you’ve seen him before. Scalding bleachers and roaring crowds and his face on the jumbotron after kicking a three-pointer. 

This football player is talking to you. 

Smiling in a polite and slightly stunned manner, you roll your shoulders back and wipe away all the crumbs of mopiness from your lap. 

“Watermelon’s too high brow for this dump,” you say after a moment, swallowing softly. “I think I smelled cherry earlier.” 

Your voice--he can only just make it out as the music plays, as the humming increases. But he can hear that it is sweet, that it is a vibration that makes his throat ache. 

“You smelled it?” Jake asks, brow perched. “All the way from there?” He points to where you’re standing against the wall. 

You’re only a foot or two away from the stained wooden table that’s holding the bowl. Nodding with your brow slightly furrowed, you push yourself off the wall. 

“Cherry’s an assault to the senses. Couldn’t help but smell it,” you answer. Then you glance over your shoulder at the rest of the party, looking for your friends. “And my friends are too wasted to ladle their own drinks.”

“I hope they’re tipping you,” Jake says. “Well--unless you’re working on commission.” 

A smile tugs on your lips.

“Doctors usually don’t work on commission,” you say softly. You look up at his hat and then down at his pants, placing his costume with a soft sort of smile. “Do they, Dr. Grant?” 

He beams at you. Something in your chest grows tight--tight like you need to let all the air out of your lungs and into the space around you. You’re pretty sure that if you did that, the temperature here would rise a few degrees.

“It’s pretty accurate, isn’t it?” Jake asks, crossing his arms and jutting his hip out. “Don’t even ask me how long it took to find the hat.” 

It took Jake two weeks to find the right hat. Two grueling weeks of dragging Bradley to strip malls and kiosks and thrift stores.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m a lady,” you answer with a small smile. “I think yours is blowing mine out of the water, though. I just picked mine from what I had in the closet and then borrowed the rest.” 

He shakes his head at once, brows furrowed. 

“You kidding me? I recognized you from across the room!”

Oh, you think. He saw you from across the room already. And now he’s standing here, right in front of you with an empty cup and a desire for conversation. 

Glancing around you quickly, you find that your friends are all still loitering around drunkenly and your other half is still not here. 

“I don’t know--is it really that impressive?” You ask Jake, meeting his eyes again. “This place is the size of a pin-hole.” 

Jake glances over at Bradley, who’s successfully started a game of Beer Pong. Already Jake can see the guys on the other side of the table burning from Bradley’s constant trash talking. Jake’s sure that idiot’s bright green wig is doing very little to dull the words falling on their ears.

“I don’t know, I was standing all the way over there by my roommate--Bargain Bin Beetlejuice,” Jake explains to you, jamming a thumb over his shoulder. You follow the direction of his finger, smiling. That isn’t that close to where you are now, but it certainly isn’t far. But you know how to take a compliment. “It’s not a skip, hop, and a jump, but it’s…” 

“It’s a skip and half a hop?” You ask, brows raised. 

Jake nods. 

“Exactly what I was thinking,” he answers.  

“Don’t freak out when I say this,” you say. “But you can’t be here when my boyfriend shows up. Your costume is gonna put my boyfriend’s to shame. We would seriously never be able to show our faces around here again.” 

Jake’s chest is tight. 

Boyfriend. Of course you have a boyfriend.

He glances around the room, searching for someone dressed like the Great Value version of himself. But it’s just an endless sea of Wayne and Garth’s and Urkel’s and Wednesday’s. No other Dr. Alan Grant in sight. 

“He isn’t here now, is he?” Jake asks. He has the sudden urge to puff his chest out, to size him up. 

Uncomfortably, you shift your weight and look at your shoes again. You hate it when Jeff bails on you like this. And you know that he couldn’t have forgotten--you reminded him this morning. You knew he was only half-listening. You always know.

“No,” you answer. He can hear the soreness in your tone as you glance around, too. “But he’s supposed to be.” 

Fucking asshole, Jake thinks. 

“He bailed on you?” He asks, lips pursed. “Wait a minute--you’re doing a couple’s costume with him and he hasn’t even bothered to show his face?”

“Yup,” you answer with a tight smile. 

“No offense, but what an asshole,” Jake says. He crosses his arms. “Who does that to their girlfriend on Halloween?” 

“Jeff Sabler, I guess,” you answer. 

“Oh, you’re with Jeff Sabler? From the debate team?” He asks. 

He’s stifling laughter, trying to bite a grin. You see right through him, though. Your face is warm with embarrassment as you bite a smile, too, and roll your eyes.

“Yeah, Johnny Football, I’m dating Jeff Sabler from the debate team,” you say. “Problem with that?” 

“Me? Have a problem with Spit Sabler? Never,” Jake says with a grin.  

You can’t help but laugh quietly at his nickname, even if it kind of makes you want to curl into a ball and wither away. Spit Sabler. It’s what people started calling him after his very first debate last year, when he got so worked up during policy discussion that spit literally flew from his mouth and onto the judge’s desk. He didn’t even say excuse me aftward. 

“You know, he doesn’t even care that people call him that,” you say with a slight eye roll. You’re beginning to notice that Jeff doesn’t care about a lot of things--punctuality, nicknames, his grade in biochemistry, commitment to Halloween costumes. “Isn’t that silly? I’d just die if people around campus had a nickname for me.” 

“Maybe they do and you just don’t know it,” Jake teases. 

“Are you holding out on me?” You ask. You pause, swallowing and holding your hands on your hips. “Do you even know me?” 

“Sure,” Jake says with an easy grin. He gestures to your costume. “You’re my best girl!” 

“Ha-ha,” you say despite the way you suddenly want to rub your thighs together. His best girl. “I bet you haven’t given me a second look until you noticed that I was your missing piece.” 

“I haven’t seen you around,” Jake admits. “You not into football?” 

“I like to sit at the very top,” you tell him. “You know. Eagle-eye view. I like to see everything all at once. Especially now that we’re finally good.” 

“You mean you actually go to watch the game? Not just to get beer spilled on you by Pi Kappa guys?” He asks, feigning surprise. Your smile is widening, eating your face. His belly turns itself inside out. “I’m shocked, really.” 

“Not to blow you smoke or anything, but you’re a pretty good kicker,” you compliment. You hope that he can’t feel how warm your face is right now, but you’re sure he can--he’s so close to you that you can smell the shampoo in the blonde locks sticking out from beneath his hat. “You’ve never missed a three-pointer.”

He’s taken back right now. He knows that football is deeply ingrained in the culture here--he sometimes can’t help but feel like a big man on campus when his calc professor congratulates him on a good game or when upperclassmen clap his back in the student center--but it’s rare that he meets someone who pays very much attention at all. Now that he’s been established as good, people just assume he is. They don’t really watch. 

“I’m impressed that you pay attention,” he says. 

“Why? ‘Cause I’m a girl?” You ask, arms crossed. 

You’re smiling still. 

“Not ‘cause you’re a girl,” he answers. “‘Cause everyone goes to the football games to drink.” 

“Well, I’m no Pi Kappa,” you say. “I’m a whole other thing.”

“I bet you are,” Jake says. “What’s your name?” 

“Ellie,” you quip. 

He grins at you. 

Shit. You’re too easy to like. Way, way too easy. 

Spit Sabler. What a load of shit. 

“I’m Jake,” he says after a minute. 

This whole year you’ve been calling him Seresin in your head--it’s what’s printed on the back of his jersey, what you see on the jumbotron when he kicks your team’s winning goal. 

But Jake. Yes, that fits him. Aren’t all sandy-blonde, green-eyed boys named Jake, anyway? It’s so coastal, evokes images of tan skin and a freckled nose and bright smile. 

“Well, it’s to know your actual name,” you say. “I’ve just been calling you Seresin.”

“I’m flattered you noticed me,” Jake says, beaming. 

“Everyone does,” you say, shaking your head gently. 

“No way,” he disagrees. “Not everyone.” 

“Please,” you sass, brows furrowed. “Modesty didn’t get you to where you are now, did it?” 

“Across the room?” Jake asks, brows raised. Your smile fades to one of flattery, your lashes batting against your cheeks like you’re trying to blink yourself back into reality. “No. I’d say what got me across the room was curiosity.” 

“I thought it was thirst,” you say softly, nodding to the punch bowl. 

Jake looks back at the bowl, arms crossed over his chest. Right. Nuclear waste.

“That was all a ruse,” he says. “You can’t believe a word I say.” 

“I’m learning so much about you,” you say with a fond smile. “Your name, your tendency to lie, how easily impressed you are.” 

Jake almost guffaws trying to keep up with you. 

“That’s pretty much all there is to me,” Jake says. “I’m surface-level.”

“Right,” you laugh. You gesture to his costume. “Jurassic Park is a pretty surface-level movie.” 

“What, you don’t like it?” Jake asks, borderline stunned. 

“Of course I like Jurassic Park. I’m only human,” you answer quickly. “But--you know. Everyone likes it. It’s easy to like. Easy to understand. Even the themes that they try to make harder to understand.” 

“Like what?” 

“The ethics of creating life inside a lab in tubes and incubators,” you answer. “Playing God.” 

“I guarantee you that I could introduce you to someone who genuinely thought the entire movie was just about running from dinosaurs,” Jake tells you, a grin tugging on his lips. “Not everyone is as smart as you. Well--us.”

“Us,” you echo, a laugh bubbling up from the tips of your toes and spilling out into the air around you. It’s swallowed by the crowd before Jake can digest it. “Kind of weird that we’re wearing matching costumes, right?” 

“Divine intervention,” Jake says, brow perched. 

“We don’t even know each other,” you say, smiling. “That’s crazy.”

Beaming, Jake nods. 

“You think people are gonna think I’m your boyfriend?” He asks slyly, leaning on the punch table carefully. “Just ‘cause I actually bothered to show up. And the whole costume thing.” 

“I don’t know,” you say, shoulders falling back. Your spine prickles with excitement--the excitement of being looked at by him. “Should we ask someone?” 

He’s watching you with a slight smile clinging to his pink lips. Inside his gaze, you feel like you’re alone at the party with just him. No more sticky floors and no more drunk friends and no more shitty boyfriend. Just you and him shooting the shit. You can’t do this with Jeff--everything always ends in a fight and in classic debater style, he rarely lets things go. 

As if he’s trying to call your bluff, Jake looks around for someone to tap. He’s waiting for you to stop him, for you to burst out that you were just joking, to grab his arm before he can get someone’s attention. 

But you don’t stop him. There is no bluff to be called. 

So, he taps on the nearest Urkel’s shoulder. He turns around, glasses askew. 

“What’s up, brother?” Urkel asks Jake when he recognizes him. “How you doing, Trip?” 

Trip. It’s short for Triple.

“Just great,” Jake answers. He half-steps so he’s closer to you, close enough that your arms are touching. And he’s surprised when you lean into him, totally feeding into the bit. “Uh--do we look like we came together?” 

“That’s not the question,” you whisper to Jake, nudging him with your elbow before you lean forward to speak to Urkel. “The question is--does he look like my boyfriend?” 

 Urkel turns to give the both of you his full attention as you step beside Jake again, leaning against his arm. He regards your bright eyes and Jake’s solid grin, the way your arms are pressed together, the matching costumes. 

“Is this your way of introducing me to your lady or something?” Urkel asks Jake. 

“So, we do look like boyfriend-girlfriend?” Jake clarifies. 

Urkel’s brows come together. 

“Aren’t you?” 

“Total strangers, actually,” you sigh, shrugging. Jake smiles at you, watching as your brows pull together and your lashes flutter against your cheeks. “For all I know, this guy could be a serial killer.” 

“It’s true, I could,” Jake sighs in confirmation. “And for all I know, she could be a total stalker.” 

“What?” Urkel asks. “What are you--?” 

You nod, sucking the back of your teeth. 

“Right, right,” you answer. “You never can tell these days. People are so insane.” 

“Preach,” Jake sighs. 

“I’m too drunk for this, Trip,” Urkel says finally, rubbing his temples. “Hit my line when you two really are boyfriend-girlfriend, alright?” 

And with that, you and Jake are in your own little bubble again. Heat has pooled in your belly and your fingertips are buzzing and your ears are hot with embarrassment and excitement. 

It’s exhilarating, you realize. The way you feel right now with Jake, who you really only just met, tapping inebriated strangers on the shoulder and pretending like you weren’t bored out of your mind and stood up only a little bit ago. Indulging parts of yourself you can’t whenever you’re with Jeff. 

“That settles it, then,” Jake sighs coolly, shrugging. “Spit Sabler’s in for a rude awakening.” 

“Yeah, when he shows up,” you say, scoffing. 

“If he shows up,” Jake corrects, wrinkling his nose. 

“I can’t believe I got stood up,” you say to him. Except it isn’t bitterness in your tone that he hears--it’s a strange, disconnected relief. Like you were waiting for Spit to do something to warrant this fracture. “Me. Stood up. By my boyfriend.”

“He must not be from the south,” Jake sighs with a shrug. “Boys from the south would never stand their lady up.” 

“Oh, really?” You ask. Your stomach is tied in excited, tight knots. “And you’re speaking from experience, right?” 

“Totally,” Jake confirms. “Texas. Born and bred.”

“You southern gentlemen sure do like telling people you’re southern gentlemen,” you tease. “Gotta work it into every conversation, huh?” 

“You sound like my roommate,” Jake grins, shaking his head. 

Looking over at Bargain Bin Beetlejuice again, you find him holding his hands up in defense with a grin eating his face. A man in a toga is being held back by a few other men from wiping said-grin off his face. 

“I was gonna say that your roommate sounds like a smart guy, but looks like he’s over there picking fights with Sigma Alpha Toga,” you say, tutting. “Not the best move.”

Jake groans when he sees Bradley throw his head back in laughter, when he sees how red in the face his toga opponent is. He’s always pushing people to their absolute limit. It’s what makes him such a good lineman--and a regular target. 

“And on Halloween of all holy nights,” Jake says, sighing.

“Some people are just so classless,” you agree. 

“Like guys who ditch their girlfriends on Halloween,” Jake agrees. 

“How many times you gonna bring that up?” You ask, biting your lip. 

“I’m going for the record,” Jake teases.

“The least you could do is soften the blow,” you tell him. 

“How can I do that?” Jake asks. He’s grinning. 

“You could…” You pretend to think, tapping your chin and chewing the inside of your cheek. “Well, you could least keep up appearances.” 

“What, like, be a good fake boyfriend?” He asks, brow perched. 

You nod. He’s elated right now, trying to bide his excitement so he doesn’t freak you out totally and completely. 

“Yeah,” you confirm. 

“Well, I can’t just be good,” Jake tells you smugly. “I’ve gotta be the best fake boyfriend.”

“You’ve really talked yourself up,” you tell him, sucking the back of your teeth. The soles of your feet are warm, the palms of your hand sweatied. “Blow me away.” 

Jake opens his mouth to say something dumb and flirtatious, something that will surely make you push his shoulder, but he’s interrupted when the music suddenly changes. Dreams by The Cranberries is playing suddenly, a smidgen louder than the music before was.  

“Now that they’re finally playing good music,” Jake calls over the music, pointing in the general direction of one of the speakers. “Will you dance with me?” 

No one has ever asked you to dance before this precise moment. Never at any shitty homecomings or slapstick proms. Before, at every other frat and house party Jeff dragged you to, no one danced like you thought they might. Parties aren’t for dancing anymore--they’re for drinking. The romantic in you dies a little bit each time you remember that. 

But here is this guy standing right in front of you, the big man on campus who’s dressed up in a weirdly accurate Alan Grant costume, holding his hand out to you and asking  you to dance to The Cranberries. The Cranberries. 

“There’s nowhere to dance,” you say before you can help it, glancing around the room. It’s packed wall-to-wall. No one is dancing and everybody is drunk. 

“Would you go outside with me if I asked?” Jake asks. 

His heart is pounding in his throat. 

“I don’t know,” you say. But you do know. “Ask.” 

“Will you go outside with me?” Jake asks. 

“Yes,” you say. “Yeah. I’ll go.” 

Yeah. I’ll go. Jake is going to think about the way you looked when you said these words to him for the rest of his life. You, the girl who was standing here looking bored and waiting on Spit motherfucking Sabler, are looking up at him with glassy eyes and a broad grin and saying yeah. I’ll go. 

Jake doesn’t waste a moment,  nodding towards the backdoor. 

“C’mon,” he says with a grin. “I don’t wanna miss this song.” 

Outside, it’s much cooler than inside the stuffy house. The air is crisp and fresh and fragrant with the lonely apple tree that sits just beside the house. No more overpowering stenches like sweat or cheap fabric or overfilled trash. 

And now that you’re outside in the mostly-dark, only the naked porch bulb lighting the little patch of overgrown concrete you’re standing on, you feel like you can take a deep breath and let your shoulders fall. 

“It’s nice out here,” you admit. 

“And you can still hear the music,” Jake points out. “Speaking of…” 

You turn around, glance at him over your shoulder. And there’s Jake beaming at you, hand outstretched towards you in an open invitation. 

“You were serious?” You ask, nose wrinkled. “I thought boys just said that to impress girls.” 

“Not Texas boys,” he answers. “C’mon. Dance with me.”

And who would you be if you said no to this almost perfect stranger?

Swallowing thickly, you smile at him. It’s an unsure smile, one that is usually accompanied by a warm face and downcast eyes. But you’re not looking away from him and Jake definitely isn’t looking away from you. 

His hand is warm, bigger than yours. The skin is rough, probably from tossing the pigskin, and his grip is secure. He holds your hand the way he holds other important things--delicate glasses, his favorite pen, a photograph of him and his mama.

You stand there, his hand holding yours, for a moment. Not sure what to do next, unclear where you’re supposed to step or if you’re supposed to come closer. 

“C’mere now,” Jake says softly. It’s less of a command and more of a guidance as he gently pulls you closer to him. “There you go.”

Shakily, a breath falls from your mouth. A cloud of tongue-scented vapor settles on Jake’s chest. He’s looking down at you, his face all shadows and shine, as he begins to bring his other hand up to hold your waist. 

“Can I hold your waist?” He asks. He almost makes a joke--almost adds something to make his questions sound less serious. Strictly for appearances. But then he just looks down at you looking up at him, reads the slope of your brows and the part of your lips, and leaves it at that. 

“Is that what comes next?” You ask, really meaning it. 

He pulls his brows together, confused.  

“What--no one’s ever asked you to dance before?” 

“No,” you answer seriously. “I mean--well, yeah. No.” 

He just softly shakes his head. How in the world has no one ever asked you to dance before? He wanted to dance with you before he even knew you and he wants to dance with you now that he barely knows you. 

“What?” You ask, brows knit. Your throat is caked in nerves. “You think something’s wrong with me now?” 

“I’m thinking I oughta skin Spit Sabler and hang his bones to dry,” Jake admits. “And I don’t think anything’s wrong with you.” 

You step closer to him, the pavement cracked beneath the soles of your boots, and your chest is close enough to his to feel the softness of his shirt when you inhale. He smells like sandalwood and Everclear and you’re just now noticing that his hands are a little sticky from his drink. 

“Is there something wrong with you?” You ask, looking up at him. “You didn’t bring a date to the party.” 

“Who do you think Beetlejuice is?”

The laughter flows easily. 

“Excuse me for supposing.” You smile. 

“Excused,” Jake breathes.  

Jake is holding your waist now--he can feel the soft curve there, the way the fabric melts into his hand like it’s been waiting for his heat. And whenever you take a deep breath, your chest touches his. 

Besides the music, there are crickets chirping in the button bushes and frogs distantly singing in a too-big puddle just down the road. It is a perfect night--the stars stretch across the sky, brighter than they are in the middle of town, and the moon is white as silk. 

You’re spinning in a semi-slow circle, your smile still coy and your palms still clammy. But you’re happy--you think that you’re happy. A stone of excitement just sits heavy in your gut, warm and unmoving. This is the feeling you have whenever you meet someone that you know is going to be important in some way someday.

Inside the house, Bradley’s noticed that Jake is gone--and so is the pretty girl he was talking to. He glances around, biting his lip, the taste of cheap lipstick bitter on his tongue. And then he spots movement outside the west-facing windows. 

“No way,” he whispers, shoving his way across the room and closer to the windows. He squints, cups his eyes, and immediately recognizes that damn hat. “He did it. Crazy son of a bitch did it.” 

“Who?” Someone near Bradley asks. They’re bleary-eyed as they look at Bradley, leaning closer to him. “Who did what?” 

“Me,” Bradley answers with a grin. “I did your mother.” 

“I like The Cranberries,” you say quietly. “I listen to this CD all the time.” 

“Not a Red Hot Chili Peppers girl?” He asks. 

Laughing, you shake your head. 

“Do I look like one?” You ask. 

“Do I look like I think you’re one?” He retorts. 

Another grin--Jake’s throat is so tight that he can hardly swallow. 

“Too many degrees of separation,” you whisper to him. “You’re giving me a complex.” 

He takes a deep breath--of you, of the crisp autumn air, of the dew on the grass, of the sugary juice staining his hands. 

“Why you with a guy who stands you up?” He asks. You’re slowly spinning in a circle still and the world blurs behind your pretty head. “I barely know you, but I know I’d never bail on you.” 

“Well, not everyone’s from Texas,” you answer. The heartbeat in your chest is stuttering as Jake looks at you--your eyes, your nose, your lips. “We’re not…serious or anything.”

You don’t know why you feel the need to tell Jake this--and why it doesn’t make you feel guilty when you realize that you’re telling him so he knows that your options are open. 

“Not serious?” He asks. “How long have you been seeing each other?” 

A few months. 

“Since August.” It sounds like more time than it really is. 

“Not long at all,” he says. “How’d he hook you? Did he debate you into a date?” 

The grin tugging on your lips is so insistent. 

“You’re kind of an ass,” you say affectionately. 

“But I’m a good dancer,” he says--beaming. “Don’t you think I’m a good dancer?” 

“Fishing for compliments,” you tut. “Flattery must be your love language.” 

“What’s your love language?” 

Cheeks hot, you just shake your head. 

Christ, he’s good. Too good. Way too good.

“You ask so many questions,” you tell him, breathing out hard. You’re beaming at him still. “Too curious for your own good.” 

“And I’m not even a journalism major,” he tells you. 

“You’re missing your calling then,” you say softly. “What is your major?” 

“Film,” he says. 

That strikes you as funny for some reason--a football player film major with an affinity for dream pop and Jurassic Park. 

“Aren’t you a mystery,” you ponder aloud. “Johnny Football Hitchcock.” 

“And what’s your major? Looking bored at parties?” 

You mock offense, holding a hand over your heart. When you’re this close to him and he beams, you can see every single one of his pearlescent white teeth, each one more perfect than the last. 

“I didn’t look bored,” you defend half-heartedly. 

“You looked so bored,” Jake says, laughing. “I thought you were gonna pass out before I even made it over to you.” 

The back door opens--a few drunk people stumble out, saying nothing but laughing all the same. 

Instinctively, you begin to pull away from Jake. But he tightens his grip on your waist, on your hand, and keeps you close to him. He keeps spinning the both of you in slow circles as the song floats on. 

“It’s okay,” Jake says softly to you--like he knows that your face is warm with almost-embarrassment, like he knows that you’re nervous to be this close to him in front of anyone else. “They’re not gonna remember shit tomorrow.” 

“Are you?” You ask, teasing. 

It’s vulnerable to ask--ther’es a sweetness in your quiet tone. You’re asking him if he’s drunk, if he’ll remember crossing the party to talk to you, if he’ll remember asking you to dance with you.  

“I’m stone-cold sober,” Jake says. “Fortunately.” 

It’s strange whenever someone doesn’t let you down. You’re almosot used to putting up defenses at this point, almost always ready to roll your eyes and say God, never mind. You’re a smart girl. You know that this isn’t the way you should feel about the boy you’re seeing. And you are smart enough to see a good thing when it’s standing right in front of you, holding knot your waist and dancing with you. 

“Oh, shit--!” 

You turn towards the sounds of shoes scuffing on pavements, the sudden outburst. Jake does, too, brows furrowed. He sees it before you do--is getting ready to lift you up and push you further into the yard. 

But he’s too late. 

Alpha Beta Toga is bent at the hips and spewing neon-green puke all down your legs and into the pockets of your cargo shorts and all over your hiking boots.

Still, Jake tugs you away, plants himself between you and Toga. It’s too late, though--he’s being tugged away by his friends, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, hiccupping. And you’re standing beside him, stunned, staring down at your slimy legs. 

“Hey!” Jake bellows, brows furrowed. The frat boys pause, eyes bleary as they stare back at him. “Apologize.” 

“Sorry,” one of them says to Jake, belching. 

They start to move inside the house again, a blur of white sheet and skin. 

“No, no, no,” Jake insists. “To her.” 

You blink in surprise, swallowing the lump growing in your throat, not knowing what to do except stand there and freeze with putrid vomit running down your legs. 

“I didn’t puke on her!” One of them defends. 

“I didn’t ask, dipshit,” Jake says. “Someone’s gonna say sorry before you go back inside.” 

“It’s fine,” you whisper, unbuttoning your shirt and slipping out of it to wipe down your legs. “It’s really fine. He’s drunk, it was an accident--!” 

“I’m sorry,” one of the boys interrupts you, glancing over at you nervously. “We should’ve pulled ‘im back.” 

“You should’ve,” Jake confirms. 

And then his attention is back on you. He’s kneeling before you, grabbing the shirt from your hands and mopping up as much vomit as he can on your legs. Still shocked and now prickled with cold as you bend at the hips and look down at him, you frown. 

“Is it--oh my God. Is it chunky?” You whisper, feeling sick. 

Jake dutifully holds onto your thigh as he continues to mop it up. God, it smells bad--he dipped into more than one of the punches. 

“Don’t look,” Jake commands, brows pulled together. “Just look up at the stars and it’ll be over soon.” 

“It’s fucking chunky,” you say to yourself, looking up at the night sky anyway. Cold air nips your bare shoulders, tucks itself between the skin of your belly and your tank top. “Did he eat the shit that was floating in the bowls? I don’t think it was edible.” 

In the dim light, Jake examines one of the chunks. It’s a clump of green-tinted yellow, half-digested and crumbling in the grip of the shirt. His stomach turns, but he swallows hard, comes a little closer.

Oh. He snorts softly and you groan above him. 

“What is it?” You ask. “Oh, God--is it, like, pineapple chunks?” 

 “It’s a flower,” Jake says.

“What?” You demand, looking down at him. “A flower?” 

He finishes up mopping your legs as you look anywhere but your legs, your jaw beginning to tremble from the cold.  

“Was this all some elaborate way to get me flowers?” 

His laugh echoes into the night. 

“Would you be impressed?” He asks. 

“Kinda,” you answer honestly. 

“Then yes,” he grins. “I think I got most of it, by the way. Do you wanna see the flower?” 

Looking down, frowning, he holds his open palm up to you. And yes, there it is--a marigold submerged in stomach acid. 

“And they say chivalry is dead,” you breathe out. “How’d you know marigolds are my favorite?”

“I’m just good like that,” he says. “Marigolds, huh? Are they even edible?” 

“Anything’s edible if you put it in your mouth.”  

He’s grinning up at you, pulse still thumping in his wrists from the past ten minutes. And that’s when he notices that you’re just standing there in a tank top, skin goosed from the cold. 

“Here,” he says, standing up. 

He unbuttons his shirt quickly and drapes it over your shoulders before you can tell him not to. He grabs the corner of your soiled shirt and nods for you to start for the house. 

“I can’t believe that just happened,” you whisper. 

“I can,” he says. “I’ve been to, like, two parties where no one’s projectiled on someone else.” 

Cringing, you shake your head. His shirt is warm--it smells like sandalwood. The denim is thick and soft, like it’s been worn before tonight. 

“Thanks for mopping me up,” you tell him as you open the back door for him. The sound is immediate--the thumping speakers, the drunk hollers. “How can I repay you?” 

“Dump Spit Sabler,” Jake says. You turn, mouth ajar, looking prettier than you should in his shirt. His chest is tight. “It’s for your own good.” 

“My good?” You whisper. “Or…yours?” 

He swallows hard. You two just watch each other, the scent of puke thick in the air and the party too loud and the outside too cold. He doesn’t want to be anywhere else. 

“Can I drive you home?” His voice is flat and serene. 

Calm like he already knows your answer because he does. 

“Yes,” you whisper because you want to stay here, in his gaze, for as long as he’ll let you. “Can we go now?” 

He pulls the keys from his pocket and smiles at you. 

Bradley isn’t buckled so he can lean forward in the middle seat and prop his elbows up on the center consol, looking at you and Jake as the world slips past you in a blur of over-exposed white and green. 

“Spit Sabler?” Bradley says again, still shaking his head in disbelief. 

You’re laughing, shaking your head, too. Jake groans. 

“Man, can you shut up already?” 

“No,” Bradley says. He looks at you and you look at him--his makeup is melting off his face and his green wig is askew. But even now, you can see that there is a handsome man with a broad smile somewhere beneath it all. “You--you--are with Spit? Spit Sabler?” 

“Yeah,” you say, smiling. “I was.” 

Jake doesn’t miss it--was. But he doesn’t say anything, just keeps his eyes on the old country road you’re all driving down. 

“Why?” Bradley asks. “Like, I just can’t wrap my mind around it.” 

“Can you leave her alone?” Jake moans. He fiddles with the radio until a Cocteau Twins song comes on, shaking his head. “She already got puked on and now you won’t get off her head.”

“I just have to know!” Bradley insists. “Like, was it…okay, I’m gonna ask. I have to ask.” 

Jake looks at Bradley in the rear-view mirror hard, knowing already what he’s going to ask. He points at Bradley’s reflection and Bradley grins back, still a little drunk and quiite stupid. 

“What?” You ask, genuinely confused. “What were you gonna ask?” 

“Don’t do it,” Jake warns. “Man, you don’t even know her! You’re making me look like I have perv friends!” 

“I have to!” Bradley argues. “I have to!” 

“Oh,” you say, realizing suddenly. You lean back in your seat and look back at Bradley. “You’re gonna ask me if he has a big dick.” 

“Exactly!” Bradley moans. He grabs your shoulders excitedly and squeezes you good-naturedly. “She’s on our level, Jakey!” 

“I’m sorry about him,” Jake says, shaking his head. “He was dropped as a baby. Frequently.” 

“Twice,” Bradley corrects. He nudges you and you grin at him. “Was it big?” He whispers. 

Shaking your head, face warm, you frown. 

“Not big enough,” you whisper. 

Bradley explodes in the backseat, in stitches as he holds your shoulders tight. And Jake can’t help but crack a smile at the sound--Bradley’s laugh is infectious. And you’re laughing, too. 

“Oh, that’s too good!” Bradley’s cheering. “Oh, my God! You just made my night!”

“You’re welcome,” you say, grinning.

“Did he just, like, talk at you until you were confused enough to be in a relationship with him?” Bradley asks. 

“She’s not an idiot,” Jake defends, smacking blindly in Bradley’s direction. 

Bradley bats his hands away.  

“We all have our moments!” Bradley argues. “I didn’t say she’s an idiot.” 

“He’s the idiot,” Jake says. 

“Yeah,” Bradley agrees. “No arguing there.” 

“For the record,” you say to them. “He did kind of talk me into it. One minute we’re in class, the next we’re at coffee and he’s burning his tongue on an Americano. Then his puka shells were on my nightstand. It’s all a blur.” 

The car ride continues like this--you grow warm between the heater and Bradley’s laughter and Jake’s fond embarrassment. You learn that Bradley is a business major and that he and Jake are roommate’s and best friends. They learn that you actually really do love marigolds and that you’ve been thinking about ending things with Jeff for a few weeks now--ever since he argued with you about the right way to cut bagels for over an hour. 

And by the time they pull up in front of your dorm, they realize that their dorm is just a skip and half a hop away. 

“We can come visit you anytime,” Bradley says with a grin. “We’re neighbors!” 

“Looks like it,” you say. 

Jake is watching you, wishing Bradley would leave. You reach for the handle and his palms grow damp with sweat. It’s quiet in the car. 

“I can take a hint,” Bradley whispers. “Use protection!”

He kisses Jake’s head and squeezes your shoulder and then he’s gone. 

Then it’s just you and Jake again. Jake is still grumbling about Bradley, wiping the spit and paint off his head. And you’re just smiling at Jake, totally at peace to just sit in the passenger seat of his old truck and let Halloween drift away. 

“Thanks for everything,” you say. You swallow hard when his eyes meet yours, when his brows come together. “For, like, saving me from total social humiliation. And for cleaning puke off my legs. And--this.” You pinch the denim shirt in your fingers. “You’re very sweet.” 

“It ain’t much, but it’s honest work,” Jake sighs. And really, he wants to tell you that it was his pleasure because it was. He wants to tell you that somehow this has been the best Halloween of his life. “You’ve got yourself a nickname now.” 

“What is it?” You whisper. 

“Goldie,” he grins. 

Ah. Marigold. 

“Deceivingly sweet,” you say fondly. Your chin wobbles. “You playing next week, Trip?” You whisper. 

You’re itching for a shower--you know you need to get out of his car. You know that this night needs to end. But you can’t help yourself from lingering. 

“Starting,” he says. “Not to brag.” 

“And yet you manage to,” you tease. “Look for me at the top, okay?”

Eagle-eye. 

“And if I said I could get you tickets closer to the field, what would you say?” He ponders. “Just out of curiosity.” 

“Well, I’d say that’s very sweet and that you don’t have to do that,” you tell him. 

He nods, chewing on his bottom lip. He imagines you there, holding onto the railing, skin goosed as you watch him do what he does best. His chest is wound tight with joy, excitement. 

“And then I’d probably say that I know I don’t have to,” he continues. “I want to.” 

Nodding, biting a grin, you hum. 

“Well,” you whisper. “Maybe we can talk more about it when I drop your shirt off tomorrow.” 

“Yeah,” Jake says. “We can talk more about it. Maybe over, like, coffee.” 

“Yeah,” you answer. “Coffee would be good. No Americano’s, though.” 

Another beat. It’s quiet except for the humming radio, the wind whispering outside the windows, the heat blowing on your legs. 

“Goodnight, Goldie,” Jake whispers. 

Throat tight, you nod. Another grin. 

“Goodnight, Trip,” you say. 

And as you get out of the car and start for the dorm building, Jake sits and watches you walk all the way to the door. You turn, hand on the heavy handle, and smile when you see him. He waves, his hair soft and his eyes unmoving from your form. Spit never waits for you. In the light of the streetlamp, of the pocket lights of the building, you look like a dream. Like you’re surrounded by a yellow haze. 

You wave--so does he. 

And then you walk into the building with your heart in your throat, with the soles of your feet on fire. You don’t even care that there’s puke on your legs, that you have an uncomfortable phone call to make, that you have to walk all the way up to the third floor. 

You’re floating, really. Floating through pink clouds perfumed with sandalwood, tinged with warmth. 

And when Jake gets back into his room, Bradley is waiting for him. He’s on his twin bed, still in his costume and wig and makeup, a management textbook cracked open on his lap as he munches on some crackers and reads in the lamplight. 

“I like her,” Bradley says as soon as Jake closes the door. “I really, really like her man.” 

“Me too,” Jake admits softly as he toes his boots off. “She’s sweet.” 

“She’s funny,” Bradley adds. “She had me in stitches in the car!” 

“If I’d have been puked on, it would’ve ruined my week. Shit, it would’ve ruined my year,” Jake muses. He pulls his bandana off and throws it in his closet without looking. “She’s a good sport.” 

“You better lock that down,” Bradley says, shaking his head. He scratches his chin and bits of white paint flake off. 

“Someone else already has,” Jake says, brows furrowed. 

He sits on his own bed and looks at Bradley, who’s yawning and rubbing his eyes. Smearing his makeup. 

“Spit doesn’t stand a chance,” Bradley says. “I’ll bet she’s dumping his sorry ass right now.” 

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: SLAYYYYYY I LOVE BRADLEY IN THIS UNIVERSE HE IS SOOOOO STUPID

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

@thedroneranger

@fandom-life-12

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@popsycles

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[lovelybucky1]

Kinktober Day 17- Size Kink

warnings: college!au, frat boy bradley, frat party, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, no actual smut, size kink, 18+ minors dni

kinktober masterlist

main masterlist

Frat parties aren’t your usual scene, but your friends practically dragged you here, and subsequently left you on a couch alone to talk to some brunette girl who was sizing her up.

You’re slumped in the corner, nursing the drink in your hand. You don’t usually drink, and you can feel the one and a half drinks you’ve had getting to you.

It takes you a moment to realize that someone sat down next to you, and when you look up, they are already smiling at you. Bradley Bradshaw.

“Hey there,” he says, voice smooth and deep and it makes you feel warm all over.

“H-hi.”

To say you had a crush on him would be an understatement. You were head-over-heels, embarrassingly, hopelessly in love with him, and you have been since freshman year.

He was in your science lab first semester, and then you had your english and history classes with him second semester. He never sat next to you, never even talked to you unless he was forced to by group work, but that didn’t do anything to help your crush.

“What’re you doin’ over here by yourself?” he asks.

“My friend… she left a little bit ago. And I don’t really know anyone else here.”

Bradley frowns a little. “You know me.”

“Yeah but…” you gesture over to the crowd of his friends. Jake Seresin, Javy Machado, Mickey Garcia. The only one you have had anything to do with was Bob, but he’s an outsider of their group.

Bradley nods in understanding. “‘m sorry she left you. Do you want me to walk you home?”

Your eyes light up a bit. You definitely don’t want to be at this party any longer, and you’ve dreamed about walking hand in hand with Bradley on the way home a million times.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you say, trying not to sound too eager.

Bradley stands up from the couch and holds out his hand to help you up. Apparently he is quiet the gentleman, because he catches you when you stumble.

“How much have you had to drink?“ he asks.

“N-not that much,” you reply shyly, feeling like the girl next door for being such a lightweight.

Rooster puts his arm around your waist to steady you as he leads to towards the door. His large, warm hand is splayed over your stomach and you can’t help the butterflies that bloom in your stomach.

He informs his friends where he is going, and then he’s opening the door for you. It’s chilly outside, and you dressed for a frat party, not an October night. You shiver, and he must feel the goosebumps on your arms because he moves away for a moment to take off his jacket.

“Oh, you don’t need to-”

“Just take it, it’s cold out.”

You don’t argue further, not that you really want to anyway. He holds out his jacket and lets you slip into it. It’s so big and warm, and you feel even fuzzier now, and you know it’s not from the alcohol.

The jacket’s sleeves hang down to cover your hands, and it smells like him. You never want to take it off.

“Thank you,” you say shyly, looking down at your feet.

“No problem, sweetheart.”

If Bradley’s hand wasn’t holding onto your waist, you would have collapsed onto the ground. You feel giddy and embarrassed and all of your dreams are coming true.

You walk in silence for a little bit. You stare down at the sidewalk in front of you, studying the cracks in the concrete to keep your mind off Bradley. Unbeknownst to you, Bradley is watching you the whole way.

“You look good in my jacket,” he says, breaking the silence.

“I do?” you ask.

“You look very good.”

There’s something in his voice that urges you to look up, and when you do, your knees threaten to buckle. His brown eyes are even darker, pupils wide as he looks down at you. You want to say something, you know you need to break the tension, but your brain short-circuits.

“You’re beautiful. Always thought that, but I never got a chance to tell you.”

You want to believe him, but everything is too perfect. This can’t be happening to you, especially not with Bradley Bradshaw.

“I think you’re drunk, Bradley,” you say quietly.

“Not drunk. Only had one beer tonight and that was hours ago. I’m not lying, honey. I think you’re gorgeous.”

Suddenly your eyes start to burn, and you feel like tears could fall at any moment.

“You’re so sweet and small… Look so goddamn good in my clothes.”

He stops you, and when you turn to ask him what he’s doing, he captures your lips in a kiss. You whine into it, not expecting it but certainly not minding. He kisses hard, claiming your lips and ruining you for anyone else.

Bradley’s hands find your hips and he holds them tightly as he kisses you. His hands don’t wander, but his fingers press into you like he wants to.

“Baby,” he says against your lips.

“Hmm?” you mumble.

“You taste so sweet.”

It’s your drink he’s tasting. You like them disgustingly sweet to cover up the taste of the alcohol, and now Bradley is getting drunk off of it too.

He breaks the kiss and you look up. Over his shoulder, you see your building. You look between your window and his eyes, trying to work up the courage to say it.

“Do you want to come inside?” you blurt out.

Bradley grins that heart stopping, pants soaking grin and nods, pulling you towards the building.

The journey up the stairs and through the door was clumsy and rushed, neither of you being able to wait to get the other alone. Once inside, Bradley shuts the door and instantly has you pressed against it.

He looks down at you, his hands on your hips and his knee between your thighs. He makes you feel so small, and you love it so much.

“You have no idea how bad I wanna fuck you, sweetheart,” Bradley confesses.

“I-I want it too.”

Thank god you have a single, because you don’t know what you’d do with yourself if a roommate interrupted this.

Bradley backs away and pulls his shirt off, revealing his sizable pecs and abs, the ones you’ve been drooling over for years. His jeans are low on his hips, and you follow the trail of hair under his navel.

You hear him chuckle, and you feel embarrassed that you ogled him like that. You close your eyes and lean your head back against the door, but you hear him tut in disapproval.

“Look at me, sweetheart. I want you to see me.”

He watches you intently as he undoes his pants, and in what has to be record time, he has his cock out and his pants kicked off.

Even though you’re the only one fully clothed, you feel more naked from the way Bradley is looking at you. His cock is huge, big in every way with a wet, flushed tip.

“That’s not gonna fit,” you say, and immediately regret it. Bradley seems to preen at that, a little ego stroking never hurts.

“Trust me, baby, it’ll fit. I have all night to warm you up and open you for me,” he smirks as he sneaks his fingers up your skirt and ghosts them over your panties. “This little cunt’s gonna take all of me, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll take all of you.”

“Yeah, knew you’d be such a sweet little thing for me. God, you’re so small, I could just toss you around and use you however I want.”

He wouldn’t, of course, and you knew that, but the idea was the hottest thing in the world. You want nothing more than Bradley pushing you against the wall and using his size advantage to put you however he wants you.

“Please,” you gasp.

Bradley grabs your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist, pressing your clothed pussy to his hard cock.

“You don’t have to beg, honey. I’m gonna give you everything you need.”

[waklman]

Fake it

Chapter Two: Drunk on Halloween

synopsis: a pair of best friends, one apartment, and one fake dating ploy to get jake’s ex girlfriend back, will end well right? wrong.

pairing: jake seresin x female reader.

warnings: no use of y/n, underage drinking, mentions of binge eating, jake and reader are both 20. this blog is 18+, everyone please thank @blue-aconite for deciding that jake 6'5 :)

word count: 4.3k

college au, fake dating trope, roommate trope

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The harsh sun beaming directly on Bradley’s back makes him deeply reconsider meeting up with Jake—especially on the one day he had off in his class schedule. Instead of sleeping in, like he originally planned to, Bradley���s waiting outside the student center building—that he didn’t even know existed until now. 

Flocks of underclassmen are exiting through the front doors, fresh lanyards hanging around their necks as they walk around him. A few of them even mutter an apology to Bradley, despite him clearly being in the wrong, planting himself in the middle of the walkway—with no intention to move.

Just as Bradley’s about to turn around and leave, the devil himself appears with a crowd of sorority girls in front of him—laughing as he holds the top of the door open for them to file out through. And even with Bradley’s impatience wafting off towards him, Jake doesn’t falter. 

In spite of it, Jake dips his head back down to say his goodbyes to the pack of girls, making sure to give out individual hugs as well. He then jogs over to Bradley with two energy drinks clutched in one hand, and a toothy smile plastered on his face—one that Bradley isn’t affected by because he’s not some girl seeking a temporary semester crush to keep herself going. Bradley’s just here to relay information, and to get lunch.

Ignoring the unimpressed look he’s receiving from Bradley, Jake continues walking down the cement path after passing him one of the drinks. It’s pocketed into Bradley’s sweatpants for now. 

“Untwisted Javy’s panties,” Bradley flatly states, catching up behind Jake in two long strides. 

“What?” Jake’s brows furrow, looking ahead at an approaching tour group. Stepping over to his left, Jake makes more space on the pavement for them to walk pass him as he continues on. 

Unlike his friend, Bradley doesn’t move over at all, he continues walking in a straight line—causing the appointed tour guide to visibly panic as he divides up the herd of highschoolers from their parents. “You forgot Juliet? He forbade me from seeing you.” Bradley’s face remains stoic, delivering his reminder coldly. 

“Oh, yeah,” Jake answers, mildly confused. He hasn’t got a clue where Bradley pulled the new nickname from. All Jake knows is that he can finally get through the doors for frat parties, especially now that Javy’s cooled off his case.

Both of them meet back again, walking side by side—oblivious to the wide-eyed teenage girls doing double takes at the two attractive college boys that just passed them. 

It wasn’t like Jake and Bradley were blind to the fact that they always stood a head taller than most people. As a matter of fact, they both secretly marveled at their size comparison to others—it was just hard to remember how large they both were when they stood shoulder to shoulder, making eachother look rather normal. 

Jake pops open the tab of his energy drink. He slows down his steps, permitting Bradley to gain on him as he sips on the liquid that pools around the rim of the can. 

“This isn’t me helping you two with this shitty plan.” Bradley starts, before getting to his next point. Jake nods once, accepting the preface.

Reaching a downhill slope, their pace begins to wind down. “Talked to some chick in Alpha Xi for you. She told me Kendall’s coming to that party we’re co-hosting next weekend.” Bradley mutters, regrettably. 

Opposite to Bradley’s dead eyes, Jake’s own green orbs shoot into a brighter shade at the news. 

Bradley can nearly see the cogs turning in Jake’s head. From the look on his face, Jake’s already decided on taking you as his plus one to next week’s party. 

Jake elbows Bradley’s side. “You talked to someone for me?” 

While Bradley confirmed, more to himself, that this wasn’t him helping Jake out—the slight guilt is still there. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, knowing you’re in the thick of it all. 

Other guys would have no hesitancy when helping out a  buddy, but Bradley did. An unsensible part of him wishes you didn’t remind him of his little sisters so much. Juicing out information that obviously aids Jake’s dumb ploy feels like he’s setting one of his own sisters up for disaster. And though you were just as clueless as Jake was—Bradley’s no idiot. He might act like he doesn’t know what’s going on sometimes, but that’s only to have an upper hand on people. 

It was hard to not ignore the elephant in the room, Bradley felt he was watching two characters dodge an issue that was going to end up blowing up in their faces. But, Jake’s too wrapped up in his own delusions about Kendall to see that, and you? Bradley’s not close enough to you to put his finger on what method of denial you’ve stuck to. 

“You flirt with her to find that out, or are you just that handsome?” Jake adds on, laughing behind the can he brung up to his lips again. 

“Look.” Bradley cuts him off, making a sharp turn towards the direction of the dining hall. Jake follows alongside him, sloppily taking a larger chug than expected, caused by the change in route. 

“I have plenty of sisters, they—” Bradley presses his tongue to the back of his teeth, withholding the sappy lecture that’s threatening to spill out. Jake didn’t need to know he has that side to him, not yet. 

Bradley alternatively lets out a breath of frustration. “Just be careful,” he mumbles, stuffing his hands into his hoodie. 

Bradley watches from the corner of his eye as Jake discards the half empty can into one of the many trash bins scattered across campus. 

As much as Jake hates how much Bradley’s become protective of you, Jake also knew that this meant that Bradley liked you. Bradley Bradshaw—the guy who didn’t think twice when he stepped onto sloshed freshman that groaned under his foot—liked you.

And when Bradley extended his care to someone, he kept a close eye on them at all times. It was a tendency he fell into after becoming an older brother. Therefore, Jake made sure there would be no harm caused to you before bringing this idea up to Bradley. Because you and Jake? That’s never happening, it’s actually impossible, outrageous, unimaginable even. 

Jake knew what you liked, and that wasn’t him. Time and time again, you went for guys who were put together, guys who were as smart as you were, and guys who made your heart flutter through lame shit that Jake can’t even come up with. The few relationships you had didn’t last that long, but Jake was pleased knowing you weren’t left disrespected in the breakup. You were always the one who cut things off anyways. 

Having that knowledge made Jake confident that you’d say something if this fake dating thing wasn’t cutting it anymore. 

“Relax, Dad.” Jake claps a hand onto Bradley’s back, lightly laughing at the uptight expression dawning on his features. 

Seeing that they’ve reached the wide steps leading up to the dining hall, Jake lets the hand on Bradley’s back fall to his side again. Already dismissing their conversation, Jake stomps his way up the stairs—skipping a few steps just because his long legs allowed him to. 

Bradley sighs at his lack of awareness, following right behind Jake. Putting his hunger aside, Bradley feels something else bothering his stomach—a premonition, is what his kooky sisters would call it.

“Quit covering your face. I’m tryna show you off, not hide you.”

Contrary to his complaint, you turn your head away from the speechless girl, who unfortunately, stumbled upon you two in a compromising position. “This is humiliating,” you groan quietly into his hoodie, listening to her scramble off with hurried footsteps.

Meeting up with Jake in the library was clearly a mistake on your part. With your search for textbooks coming up empty, Jake took it upon himself to fool around, making a show in front of other innocent students, subjecting them to a view of him towering over you. How else would everyone know you’re my girlfriend, he argued. 

You lean back against the bookshelf he’s pinned you against. 

Thumbing over the button of your denim shorts, Jake lets out a soundless breath. The metal clasp looks so tiny compared to his digit tracing it—putting Jake in a momentary trance. “My girl’s so shy, what am I supposed to do with you,” he teases, eyes still trained on your waistband. 

“I…I see why she broke up with you. You can’t keep your hands to yourself,” you grumble—face hot at the coined term. It’s embarrassing as is—that he’s starting with a public declaration of your ‘relationship’, but calling you his girl? None of your exes had even attempted to test out the term with you, because they had shame—something that Jake Seresin has not one ounce of. 

I see why she broke up with you. Right, Kendall broke up with him.

Jake’s hands drop from your figure, feeling kicked by your comment. “You think so?” He whispers, eyes trailing back up to your face. Jake fills his cheeks with air, self-conscious at the sudden reminder that Kendall dumped him out of the blue—without giving him a single explanation as to why.

Reaching up a hand to squish his face, your eyes soften. His cheeks slowly deflate as your fingers press down on his tanned skin, allowing him to blow out the excess air. “No. I don’t think so.”

After echoing back his comment to him, Jake eases up again—puckering his lips in your hands to make you laugh, which you do—quietly. The librarians were already well versed on who you two were, there must’ve been a catalog of complaints under their desks with both your names on it. 

You drop your hand from his face, forcing Jake to conceal his disappointment at the motion. “Told some girls I have a new girl today,” he moves on, eyes tracing over the lines of your face. 

It only hits him now how much you’ve aged—not like it’s a bad thing. You just look different—not like the younger version of you that Jake had in his head.

“Told em’ you’re real pretty—think that’ll get back to her?” Jake rests his palms on your hips again—maintaining the illusion.

Through natural impulse, Jake’s thumb finds itself ringing around the clasps of your shorts again. The pad of his digit circles the metal button, and occasionally drops down to trace over the teeth of your zipper. He plays with the opening of your pants so lightly, that you don’t even notice it.

You face scrunches up, pretending to wince for his ex-girlfriend. “Ouch.”

“Can’t wait to break your heart and dump you, once she comes crawling back to you,” you lightly joke, poking a finger into his chest where his heart would sit. Despite his soft jab to Kendall, you had a feeling that he’ll win her back in no time.

Jakes softly smiles at you, almost forgetting where you two are for a split second. “You wouldn’t break my heart, Princess. You’re too nice for that,” and he meant it.

When his older sisters used to complain about how insufferable Jake was during puberty, you always assured him that he wasn’t annoying at all. One could say the comradery only conspired because you were also going through puberty, but it made Jake feel validated at the time. Thirteen year old Jake was well aware that he was a brat, but he just needed to hear you say that he wasn’t. 

“I’m just the bestest friend ever huh?”

“The best a boy could ask for,” Jake’s eyes crinkle from his stretched out smile.

In the last hour that you two have spent here, there had been a layer of hushed whispers that can be heard amongst the soft clattering of hardcover books and clicking of keyboards—but there’s one familiar voice off in the distance that urges you to tune out Jake’s response. 

Turning your head in search for it, your vision zones in on a group of girls heading directly towards you and Jake. You don’t know if it was pure luck or your intuition but the voice belonged to one of Kendall’s friends. 

To your surprise, all her girlfriends are here—but she’s not with them.

Right as you take notice of the one friend, the glossy lipped girl makes instant eye contact with you. She wastes no time notifying the others around her by swatting their arms with her nimble hand. 

The air in your lungs immediately expunges once they all start to swivel their heads precisely at you. 

Alertness strikes you like a clap of thunder, prompting you to snap your head back to Jake. His smile falls once he catches your panic-stricken expression. 

Wanting to decipher what’s bothering you, Jake tears his concerned eyes off you and starts to lift his head in the direction you were previously looking at. 

If Jake were to look over there—this whole dating thing wouldn't look natural. With that in mind, you knew you were left with only one option. 

Without a warning, you cup his cheek in your hand—bringing his attention back to you. Tucking away your nerves, you clasp your other hand onto the back of Jake’s neck—pulling him down towards you.

It almost happens too fast for Jake’s brain to register what’s going on—until he feels a new warmth against his mouth. 

You’re kissing him.

Your tongue isn’t shoved down his throat, your lips aren’t slotted into his—all you do is softly press your lips against the corner of his mouth, but it catches him off guard nonetheless. 

From the sudden proximity, the distinct scent of your strawberry body-wash floods his nose and travels to his brain—scrambling all of his thoughts into one jumbled mess. 

Not knowing what to do with himself, Jake digs his sweaty fingers into your hips in surprise, the pads of his fingers practically wet your denim. This was the last thing he expected out of his visit to the library.

Slowly, you pull back only to peck him on the corner of his mouth again, to make it look believable. Deciding it should be enough, you get off your tippy toes—and withdraw the hand you hooked onto him. 

Disregarding the dizzying rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins, you look up at Jake expectantly—lashes fluttering underneath him. 

It’s fruitless—Jake’s scan to see if you’re wearing that prickling lip plumping gloss Kendall used to jabber out, the one that made his mouth sting from kissing her. Because Jake feels that similar sensation on the little spot you kissed. His lips tingle there.

“Jake? Did they see?” You ask, cutting through his thoughts. 

Jake blinks down at you, marked with confusion. “Jake.” You stamp down again, urging him to check. You were far too mortified to make eye contact with those girls again.

Jake stammers for a moment before looking off to see what you’re talking about. Finally, his sights land on the overly familiar group of girls—it’s Kendall’s best friends.

They’re all standing by a row of printers across the library floor, faces frozen in shock. Their heads almost knock into each other in a failed attempt to turn around, as if he hasn’t already caught them looking over here. 

Dismissing his heart thumping in his chest, from the energy drink he guzzled down earlier—Jake twists his neck to look back at you again, mouth parted in realization. You took the initiative to kiss him on the edge of his mouth, because they were looking—because from this angle, it looked like you were giving him a sweet little peck. One a girlfriend would give to her boyfriend.

Jake easily shakes you from the way he squeezes your hips in celebration. The boastful action pulls a weak smile from you. “You're a fucking genius, you know that?” Jake feels like he’s about to explode from the swirl of pleasant emotions in his chest, ones that he can’t even put a name to. 

Jake could give you an actual fucking kiss right now. Even if you’re probably wearing that tingling lip gloss. 

“Get your–own! Jacob!”  you shriek, pulling your ice cream cone away from him. The soft serve was initially bought as a thank you gift, for the show you put on in the library. But you were sadly mistaken if you thought you could enjoy your frozen treat without Jake asking for a bite—which turned into two bites—which turned into half of your ice cream being gone before you could have so much of a taste.

The fight you put up is futile, as Jake’s already coming up from behind you. His large frame almost casts a shadow onto the bulletin board you’re both standing in front of. To steady your stance, Jake presses his palm against your stomach, so you don’t stumble forward.

Holding your wrist steady with his other hand, Jake lifts your hand up to his mouth to sink his teeth into the melting glob of milk and sugar. After securing a large bite, he uncurls his fingers from your wrist. “What are you gonna do about it? Kiss me?” He asks, chest rumbling behind you. 

Tipping your head backwards, the top of your head hits his chest. “No more,” you declare softly—looking at him through your lashes. 

Jake licks off the excess ice cream on the corner of his mouth. His teasing smile drops at your serious plea. “No more,” he repeats, looking down at you. 

You knew it was ridiculous to be slighted by Jake eating your ice cream, but you’ve been feeling uneasy during the past few days. And the snacks back at the apartment weren’t enough to diminish your need to stress eat. There was something in the back of your mind lately, that’s been increasing your desire to binge. 

Jake nudges the side of your foot with his own, encouraging you to eat your ice cream.

At the assurance that he’s done consuming your vanilla cone, you both bring your attention back to the array of neon flyers stapled onto the board in front of you two.

Since Jake’s hand is still pressed against your tummy, he extends his pinky to play with the button of your shorts again. “How about the outdoor movie? Maybe Kendall will show up,” he offers.

Your eyes search for the poster he’s referring to. “Jake, you’re really bad with scary movies. It says right there that it’s a horror movie night,” you point out, apprehensively. 

“Movie nights are stupid anyway,” he scoffs, setting his embarrassment aside. 

For the next few minutes, you read off the upcoming school events to Jake as he distracts himself by watching you give your ice cream kitten licks—holding back the urge to take another bite. 

“...I don’t think she’ll be showing up to any of these Jake,” you conclude, leaning back against his chest with the waffle cone between your teeth. 

Jake stiffens. It only just occurred to him now, that he made you two come all the way down here for no reason. Jake was already aware of an event you both could go to with Kendall’s confirmed attendance.

“Did you just—flex your abs because I laid back on you?” 

Yeah he did. It was reflexive for the most part, but there’s other things to be discussed. 

Jake cuts in with his new idea, “My old frat is co-hosting a party that we’re invited to. Kendall’s showing up,” he proposes, looking down to probe your reaction. 

“Oh, okay. We can—we can do that,” you untangle yourself from him, while still being careful to not drop your cone.

Jake’s brows pinch in confusion, watching you slip out from under him. “Where are you going?” 

Doing a quick turn to face him, you hand him the empty cone which he grabs from you. “That just reminded me of something—I gotta go. I’ll meet you at home later?”

Jake raises the cone to his mouth, taking a bite from it. “You don’t want me to come with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” you assure him with a faint smile. 

When the doorbell rang through the house, Bradley swung open the door, already prepared to tell whatever girl that was there to leave. And that her boyfriend is most likely cheating on her if he lives in this house. 

Instead of finding some teary eyed girl on the doorstep of the frat house, he found you standing there digging the toe of your sneaker into the stained doormat beneath you. 

If he was given a heads up that you were coming, Bradley would’ve made an effort to tidy up his room. When he led you inside, he had to kick away the piles of out-turned shirts and dirty boxers to clear the way for you. 

Bradley couldn’t begin to imagine Jake's reaction if he knew that you were sitting on top of Bradley’s bed right now. 

Typically when Bradley did have girls on his mattress, they didn’t look like a meek little lamb with their hands politely folded into their laps and they definitely didn’t have their legs stiffly glued together.

Directly across from you, Bradley’s manspreading in his black and white gaming chair. He’s dressed in grey sweats and a black hoodie. And the only light in his room is a desk lamp that shines down on your face.

“He definitely remembers.” Bradley squints his eyes at you in suspicion. It’s not often that you come to him for advice, so when you did, it always had to do with Jake. 

Your hands clamp tighter in your lap. “I don’t know Bradley, he looked so confused when I mentioned it in the elevator,” You’re practically sweating under the yellow light, as if Bradley’s cross-examining you. 

“You kiddin’ me? I’ve seen Seresin play Jenga when he had a pack of beers in his system. And he fucking won,” he scoffs, leaning foward to rest both elbows on his knees.

Bradley’s voice is naturally gruff, but he’s making an effort to keep a calm tone with you—because it honestly looks like you would shatter like glass, if he were to speak to you in the wrong way. “When did you say this kiss was?” 

At the question, your face scrunches up trying to remember the details. “It was at a Halloween party—we had to be sixteen or something,” you swallow thickly, recalling what follows. “I only had a few hard seltzers but Jake he…um he had a couple of his dad’s beers.”

Bradley intently nods, ensuring you that he’s listening.

“The music was so loud Bradley, I could barely make out what he was saying—he was trying to tell me something but his words were all—they were,” you pause, deliberating over the right word choice.  

“Slurred? Fucked up? All over the place?” He offers, engrossed by your narrative. 

“Yeah, and God—I had such a big crush on him at the time,” you bury your face in your hands. This had to be the first time you admitted this out loud. Never in a million years would you think you’d tell Bradley of all people.

Bradley presses his lips together and nods slowly, unmoved by your confession. He wonders what his sisters would tell you in this situation. 

On his bed, you’re taking slowed breaths. It doesn’t take a genius to get a sense on why this problem from years ago is troubling you now. But, Bradley’s not sure if he wants to be the one to break it to you.

Bradley sighs deeply, putting his hard demeanor on hold. 

“You don’t have to say anymore, I can tell how the story ends,” he says quietly, bringing a stiff hand over your knee. 

Jake had just broken up with his first girlfriend that Halloween and intentionally got shit-faced, while dressed as Ken and you as Barbie. The costume was meant for his girlfriend pre-breakup, but you took it and matched with him instead—hoping it would cheer him up. 

After having too much to drink, Jake came staggering over to you, spewing out nonsense you couldn’t even hear over the blaring music.

Then, he kissed you—right then and there. It was nothing special, the kiss lasted for less than three seconds, but it still knocked the air out of your lungs.

And right after he took your first kiss, Jake proceeded to pass out, landing straight on your shoulder like dead weight. It left you standing there, trying to keep him upright as your legs felt like jelly. 

The morning after, Jake didn’t bring it back up. Right when you knocked on his door still giddy from last night, Jake let you in and continued his complaints about his ex.

You had cried for weeks at the revelation that he didn’t remember. That he had probably mistaken you for his ex-girlfriend, given the costume and all. Jake thought he kissed her in his drunken haze, not you.

And by the time you two were seventeen, you finally got past it. Whatever romantic feelings you felt for him diminished to nothing. And you’ve already concluded that it didn’t matter anymore.

So why does it bother you so much now? 

“…Get out…my…room,” you tiredly mumble. The words are almost incoherent as they slip out your mouth. 

Sitting on your bedside, the corner of Jake’s lip tugs into a small smile. How can he take you seriously when your face is squished into a pillow? 

When Jake came in to check up on you, he walked in on you being half awake with your front sinking into the bed and your back pointing up towards the ceiling. 

With a hand sprawled against the small of your back, Jake stretches his fingers wider to see much of your back he can cover. Then, he begins to gently caress his hand over your spine, contributing to your sleepiness. 

“Where’d you go?” He asked in a hush tone, not wanting to disturb you too much. 

Jake had gone straight home after you left him earlier in the day, but you didn’t get back until the sun had set. And when you finally got home, you looked off. 

“Friend’s house,” you short-cut your answer, a tell-tale sign that you were drifting off. 

Jake pauses his movement.

“…What friend?” Last time he checked, you had no other friends but him. 

He waits for you to answer, but he’s only met with silence. You fell asleep on him.

All he can do is sigh, pulling his hand away from you. And as he stares down at your peaceful state, Jake struggles to identify the uneasiness twisting in his stomach.

note: after much keyboard smashing she is here! thank you for reading! and as always, reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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[lostdreamr-blog1]

Party Gone Wrong

Summary: You went to a college party, but things started to take a turn. When your brother didn’t pick up, you called the next best person.

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, mentions of anxiety, a few swear words.

Word count: 2.4k

Requested: Thank you Anon for this request! I hope this is what you were looking for!

A/N: Thank you all for stopping by and reading! My inbox is always open for requests, questions, or to simply say hello. For those who have sent requests, know that I am working hard on them! - C

Parties were something that was all too common at your university and the one thing you like to fit into your busy schedule when you could. Most of the time it was at some big house that belonged to a sorority or fraternity, but occasionally someone with money would throw one when their parents were gone for the weekend. Either way, it was normally a good time.

This particular night, the party was at some frat house which meant things could easily get out of hand but would most likely be a memorable night.

You enjoyed the carefree atmosphere as you closed your eyes and danced to the beat of the music. People were all around you, having the time of their lives, no one caring who was who and simply wanted to let loose. It was nights like these that reminded you how much you enjoyed coming out. You could put away all the stress of studying and the worries of life in general and get lost in the feeling of pure bliss.

Your body started to feel a bit lighter as you noticed the shots you took earlier were starting to take effect. Making sure you never over did it, you knew to wait a bit before taking another. Getting an earful from your brother about being too drunk in a public place wasn’t something you needed to hear. Bradley was always a bit overbearing.

Music blared through the house, and it was getting crowded to the point where it almost felt more like a club than someone’s home. You looked around for your friend you came with and saw she was tangled with some random guy in a corner. She did warn you before you both left that she was looking to forget her ex. And it seemed like she was exceeding her own expectations.

Your thoughts were interrupted as someone bumped into the back of you, causing you to be thrown forward. Between the shots and darkened room, you nearly crashed into the floor if it wasn’t for a pair of hands catching you.

In any other situation, you would be beyond thankful for whoever it was to stop your embarrassing fall. You had read enough romance novels that your mind naturally went into prince charming mode and wanted nothing more than to fall for the guy who saved you.

But one glance at your savior and all of that was thrown out the window. This guy had a smile that practically screamed “I’m your worst nightmare” and you knew you needed to get away from him fast. He helped you back onto your feet and you gave him the most forced smile you could come up with.

“Thanks for that. Was almost bad.” Maybe keeping your sentences short would get the message across that you weren’t looking to continue the conversation.

“No worries, beautiful. How about you thank me by coming to get a drink with me?” You’ve been around enough cocky guys to know which ones are all talk, and which ones would actually do something. And sadly, this one would no doubt take matters into his own hands if you pissed him off. Which is why you felt yourself starting to panic already.

It wasn’t lost on you that your one friend you came with was occupied and you had zero other people you could look to for help. This guy almost seemed to know this and took a step towards you, causing you to instinctively take one back.

“Thank you for the offer, but I have to get going. I could give you my number though for a rain check?” Your voice came out strong for how nervous you truly were, but it didn’t seem to fool the creep in front of you. He looked ready to pounce if you took another step away from him.

“What’s one drink?” One drink could be the beginning of the end for you. Who knew what this guy had in store, and you needed to leave. But how? Your mind wondered back to your brother and thought if you could hold out another 20 minutes, it would give Bradley enough time to get here.

So, going against every nerve in your body that told you to run, you gave him a flirty smile back. “You’re right. My paper can wait a little while longer. Would you be okay if I freshen up first?”

His smile sent shivers down your spine, but you knew you had your window to call your brother. “Yeah, babe. I’d be more than okay with that.” You sent him a small smile in thanks and made your way to the bathroom. One glance over your shoulder and you knew he was watching you like a hawk.

It took everything in your power to not breakdown as soon as you locked the door. Your anxiety was starting to reach new levels and it was taking a lot to keep a clear mind. Although, you took one look at the soap and almost washed your mouth out with how disgusted you felt talking to him like that.

You fumbled for your phone, hands shaking as you knew you didn’t have much time until he would come knocking. Dialing Bradley’s number gave you a small sliver of hope followed by a wave of frustration when you were met with his voicemail. As much as you wanted to throw your phone, another name popped into your head.

Two rings were all it took before the voice of God answered. “Seresin.”

“Jake.” You breathed his name out in relief, not thinking about how he would react on the other line.

“Y/N? What’s going on? Are you okay?” You were far from okay but freaking out over the phone wasn’t going to help either of you.

“I don’t have long, but I’m at this party about 20 minutes from base and this guy won’t leave me alone. He hasn’t done anything, but I just have this feeling. Can you come get me? My brother didn’t answer.” A knock on the door made you jump, and you called out that you would be done in a minute.

“Send me your location and I’ll be there as fast as I can. What are you doing right now?” You quickly typed out the address and said, “Hiding in the bathroom like a damn lunatic.”

You shook your head at yourself. What if you went back out there and caused a scene? That would get you out of his grasp and hopefully buy you enough time to get out of there. The only downfall was that your friend drove, and you had a long walk in the dark ahead of you.

He seemed to understand where your mind was going. “Listen to me. Go back out there, lead him over close to the front door, and do not leave that spot until I get there. And promise me you won’t drink anything he gives you.” You heard the start of an engine and knew he was already headed towards you.

“I promise.” You flushed the toilet and turned the sink on to signal to whoever was listening that you were almost done.

“I’ll be there in under 10. Call me if things change, but don’t do anything rash.” His voice was firm, but you heard the slight undertone of worry. Jake was always one to joke around and stay calm in even the most stressful situations. But hearing how he responded made the knot in your stomach worse. If he was worried, then maybe this situation was worse than you thought.

“Got it. Leaving the bathroom now.” And hung up. You took a few deep breaths before you stepped out of the safety of the small room. The perv was all of two steps away and on you in seconds.

“I figured I would save us some time and grab you a drink. I hope vodka is okay?” In any other situation, vodka would be fantastic. But the strong taste of liquor would mask anything that was put in the drink.

“It was almost like you knew what my favorite drink was.” The smile you gave was fake and anyone with two braincells would know that. But this guy seemed to only have one thing on his mind.

“Why don’t we head somewhere quieter and get to know each other more?” You took this as your chance to follow what Jake said and walked towards the front door. The only downside to this location, is that the stairs to the house where nearby and it would take some convincing to not have him force you up them.

His hand grabbed yours while you were walking, and you knew you would be having nightmares about his hands on you for a long while. Everything about him has ruined all desires to ever go to another party.

You stopped near the door, and you felt the tug of your hand as he tried to continue up the stairs. All thoughts of reason went out the door as you went to fight him back, but a hand on your shoulder made you freeze.

“Is there a reason your hand is on my girl?” The southern drawl you had come to love was music to your ears and you had all the faith he would get you out of there.

You felt your hand be released and you instinctively backed into Jake. He wrapped a protective arm around you and gave a small squeeze, letting you know he had you.

You could’ve kissed the ground he was walking on.

“Look man, she came on to me.” Before he could come up with anymore lies, Jake cut him off.

“It looked to me like you were about to drag her up those stairs. Now I need you to do us all a favor and get the fuck out of here before I do it for you.” You didn’t know if it was what he said or how he said it, but the creep in front of you tucked tail and ran.

You were frozen as you watched him leave, mind wondering what would’ve happened if Jake was a few minutes later.

“Sweetheart, let’s get you home.” He led you out the door and into his truck that was still running. You looked over to him in question and he gave a small smirk.

“Wasn’t trying to leave you with him longer than I had to.” You slid into the truck, and he closed the door behind you. It didn’t take long for him to pull away from the god-awful party and put some distance between you.

You leaned your head back on the seat and closed your eyes. Because of this, you missed the look of concern Jake had when he looked over at you. The strong, independent girl he had come to admire wasn’t here and he started to wonder just how bad tonight shook you up.

He nearly jumped when you spoke out. “Thank you for coming to get me.” You wanted to say more but the lump in your throat was getting hard to talk around. The last thing you wanted to do was breakdown in front of Jake, especially when nothing even happened. You would wait until you were in the safety of your own home before breaking those walls down.

His hand lightly grabbed yours and started rubbing circles on the back of it. “You know I would drop everything in a heartbeat for you. Even more so when your safety gets called into question.” You felt the first tear fall and knew it was only a matter of time before more of them followed.

“I just wanted to have a night off from everything. I didn’t mean for it to go this way.” His hand gave you a squeeze.

“How about this, next time you need a night off you let me know. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you get that, and we won’t have to worry about this happening again.” You let out a sigh and looked over to him.

“You don’t have to do that. I know what you all do is a hell of a lot more stressful than my days.” He gave you one of his rare genuine smiles back.

“Sweetheart, my days would be a lot better if I got to see you at the end of them. So, if that means doing whatever you want to do in order to get that, I’d do anything.” You felt your cheeks heat up at his admission and thanked the lord it was dark in his truck. But before you could think too much more on it, the next sentence had your heart stopping.

“Your brother is going to be pissed when he hears what happened tonight.” The flirty Jake was gone as his voice became more serious. It seemed like he was running through the “what ifs” as well.

“We really don’t have to tell him.” It came out more of a plea than you wanted, but it didn’t help either way.

Jake gave you a look as if to say, “are you serious?” and shook his head. “He would not only kill me but you if he found out we kept this from him. Plus, I think he needs to know how badly things could’ve gone.”

You went back to leaning your head on the seat and closed your eyes. Images of your brother yelling at you crossed your mind and you kept trying to think of ways to avoid that.

“You’re the only family he has left. He’s going to want to know that way he can figure out how to not let this happen again.” And there went all arguments you had. You knew he was right, and you knew tonight wasn’t exactly your fault. But it still hurt to know you were going to cause your brother some sort of pain.

“I’ll be there with you if you want. Maybe take some of the heat off you.” You glanced back over to him and asked how he would do that. The answer he gave was simple.

“I’ll tell him it’ll never happen again because I don’t plan to let you out of my sight.” And sent you a wink.

A/N: Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? Thank you so so much for reading!!!

[stcverogers]

TOP GUN FIC RECS 4!

top gun fics that i’ve been reading and obsessing with over recently

this is extremely important and i take this very seriously out of respect for the community. please do remember to read the rules for the respective blogs before interacting with or reading them.

F: fluff A: angst S: smut

𖥻 - series /multi part

masterlist

JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

F: not the only cowboy by @mrsjobarnes jake seresin did not fall first. not in any circumstance. for you, however, he might just will.

S: call by @say-al0e jake's away on detachment and his picture book of you helps remind him what's waiting for him back home.

F + A: more than this by @hangmanbrainrot you and hangman have been friends for long, neither of you dare to ruin what's already good.

F + A: the best benefits by @writercole 𖥻 you and jake have been best friends forever. just friends is all you were because surely if either of you were to catch feelings it'd have happened already right?

F: kinda might, sorta like, love you a little bit + can't unfeel that + you stole my heart right off of my lips by @theharddeck fwb with jake while blatantly ignoring your feelings for him.

S: take it by @bussyslayer333 jake was your stupid best friend. you were also in love with him.

A: promise me by @footprintsinthesxnd you and jake finally had everything you could ever want. till you didn't.

F: the orange. by @violentdelightsandviolentends jake shared his orange with you. obviously that was equivalent to him laying his heart out on the line for you.

F + A: heart's getting soft by @welcome-to-my-multiverse you're jake's fake date back home for the holidays and everything feels like it was meant to be.

F + A: antidotes and poisons by @girl-in-the-chairs-void 𖥻 you and jake did not get along.

F: loverboy by @rassvetsky jake was head over heels for you and you've got him wrapped around your finger.

A: the voicemail by @callsignmercy the first you hear of jake in a decade is a voicemail he leaves before the most dangerous mission he has ever had to take part in.

F + A: line of sight by @top-hhun you have a misconception that hangman doesn't like you. he goes against everything his callsign says about him when you're in need.

F: north star by @violentdelightsandviolentends jake seresin was not a patient man. he reaches his limit this new year's.

F: jake seresin being drunk and coming home to the reader and it's basically just really cute and full of fluff!! by @of-many-fandomss

F + A: i just want you to like me by @adamstnheights you were friends with benefits with jake and all you wanted was for him to like you more than just friends.

F + A: loving you is the antidote by @demxters jake seresin was your typical frat boy. the only reason why you tolerated him was due to your friendship with your mutual friend, bradley.

F + A: traitor by @fandomxpreferences 𖥻 bradley betrays you in the worst way possible. quid pro quo.

F + A: take me home for christmas by @madsnowstorm 𖥻 you have never experienced a joyous christmas day before. thus, when jake asks if you want to go home with him for the holidays, you're reluctant.

F: practice baby by @tongue-like-a-razor you and jake 'adopt' bob to be your practice baby.

F: flygirl by @starlightstories you're penny's barkeep, but you're also one of jake's most favourite people

F: where i’m from by @sometimes-i-write-good jake thought that your date had been going good. he panics when you start crying out of nowhere.

F + A: treat you right by @eternalsams jake can’t treat you the way you deserve

F + A: is this a joke? + part 2 by @edensbuttercups a drunk hangman shows up at your door in the middle of the night.

A: champagne problems by @callsign-phoenix you knew jake's family never liked you. you would never make jake choose between you or them.

F + A: just friends by @say-al0e you and jake were not just friends. that was clear to everybody but you.

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

F: care for you by @witchwyfe four ways bradley shows you he cares + the one time he does more.

F + A: a misinterpreted loss by @lostdreamr-blog1 you thought that you and bradley had finally reached a new place. you're thoroughly disappointed when you see him wrapped around another girl at the hard deck.

F: act accordingly by @thebirdandthebee rooster couldn't call you his if you weren't technically his

F + A: there was something ‘bout you by @bussyslayer333 bradley bradshaw had girls falling for him left and right. why would he like you? you were arrogant and annoying. it didn't help that you were stuck tutoring him english.

F + A: miss you most…at christmas time by @notroosterbradshaw bradley's not going to be home for christmas and it takes a toll on his relationship with his family

S + A: home for the holidays by @mothdruid bradley lies to his family about having a girlfriend. in order to keep up with the lie, you, his best friend, become his pretend-girlfriend for the holidays.

F + A: je te laisserai des mots by @jupitercomet 𖥻 every little girl dreams of their wedding day, the pretty dress and the fancy venue, you included. why then are you absolutely miserable on what's supposed to be the happiest day of your life?

F + A: remember you even when i don't by @beyondthesefourwalls 𖥻 even though rooster has no memory of who you are, he stills feels an unbreakable connection between the two of you

F + A: i would never hurt you by @roosterforme rooster would never hurt you the way that you had been hurt

F + A: that's my man by @greymoonfeelings you and rooster talk through his insecurities

ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD

F: candy by @bussyslayer333 bob has a thing for the cute barista at the coffeeshop he frequents.

F: stiff competition by @roosterforme the dagger squad are smitten over the owner of a quaint bakery but you've only got your eyes set on bob.

F: are you forgetting anything? by @taylorsburner bob nearly forgets something before leaving for work.

F: mini me by @bippot phoenix has never met her backseater's family. she's only seen them from pictures that bob keeps. the end of the uranium mission is the perfect time for the dagger squad to meet the floyd family.

F + A: love story by @auroradawnwrites you and bob were supposed to live happily ever after. your father takes that away from the both of you and you're both stuck longing over the other, on opposite sides of the country.

F: mixed up match up by @purplevortexx you meet bob before you knew he was bob

MICKEY 'FANBOY' GARCIA

F: you wonder how he got his call sign by @imawkwardlysoc fanboy got his callsign because he's indeed, a fanboy.

F: subatomic particles by @rassvetsky picnic with mickey and he's so in love with you.

F: the dangers of the holidays by @crazyk-imagine the holidays is the most dangerous time of the year. all that wrapping and taping.