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#Jake 'Hangman' Seresin
honkytonk-hangman · 3 months
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All This Love
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
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Summary: “Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound. “Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.
Warnings: not much in this one, unplanned pregnancy, some light smut, 18+ only!! <3
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Jake feels his pulse jump once, then twice as he walks through his front door. He’d already known you were here, not just because of your car parked out front, but because you’d barely left his company since he’d gotten the news. Still, the sound of you moving around his kitchen, and the smell of something heavenly wafting toward him makes his heart leap just a little in a way that is honestly unfamiliar to him.
Jake Hangman Seresin is not a ‘relationship’ guy. He hasn’t exactly been a one-night-stand guy either these past few years, but certainly he isn’t known for his commitment. Partly he could blame this on his schedule, his various and frequent deployments, moves and busyness, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that taking an endless string of women home was taking a toll on him.
Quietly, Jake hoped he’d meet someone, have a constant in his life to come home to, maybe have a few little mini-Jake’s running around too, but it also wasn’t really something he was actively seeking out. He knew being with him meant a lot of lonely nights, and he’d internalised the attitude that most women were not up for that.
And then he met you.
You’d laughed sweetly like you’d thought he was just kidding when he’d flirted with you, told him outright you’d expecting him to cancel on your first date, and then rambled about anything and everything for the next three hours as he happily listened.
You weren’t really his normal ‘type’, you weren’t overly affectionate with him off the bat, making your intentions known, you weren’t tall or bleached blonde or anything he was used to from the women who showed an interest in him, though that wasn’t to say he didn’t think you weren’t beautiful. You were a little awkward, and dorky and you’d told him you thought he was funny, which wasn’t really one of the things most of the women he dated tended to point out. Needless to say, Jake had quickly found it very easy, very natural to adore you.
He’d gotten three and a half months with you before his orders came in. 
The two of you had grown close in that time, but you hadn’t really addressed or discussed what you were. He hadn’t really felt the need, or the pressure like he had in the past. He’d realised over the past few days that this might’ve been down to the fact that he hadn’t even really considered any other options besides the two of you eventually becoming ‘exclusive’. If Jake is completely honest, he’s been off the market since our first date.
Not until the imminent date of his deployment had he begun to take note of his rising anxiety, the complete opposite to the way he usually felt after informing a casual fling that he’d be going. With them, he didn’t expect more, he didn’t want to give them more either, but with you… Jake hasn’t been able to stop thinking about how much he’ll be able to contact you while he’s gone, if you’ll make time for him, even if you’ll send him those care packages so many of the guys he knows often received while on the carrier…
The idea that you saw his upcoming deployment as the official end of whatever this is you have going on haunted him, and Jake was determined to make clear that when he returned in fourteen months time, he still wanted to see you.
He toes off his boots as best he can with the large bouquet in the crook of his elbow, before padding down the hall toward where the delicious smell is coming from, finding you buzzing around his kitchen in a manner that forces him to stop dead in his tracks to appreciate the sight.
This is what Jake has been wanting, but it's not until this very moment he realises just how much. It isn’t even about you cooking for him, no, he just craves the domesticity of coming home to somebody who looks up from what they’re doing with an expression like his arrival is the new best part of their day.
“Jake! I didn’t hear you come in!” you say with a smile and a laugh. That wasn’t exactly unusual for you. You didn’t often hear many things, considering you were hard of hearing. You weren’t completely deaf, in quiet rooms when he was facing you, you could hear him enough, helped by lip reading, or if he spoke directly into your ear. However, it was still significant enough that Jake had downloaded an ASL learning app, partly to communicate better with you, but also so that he could see your overjoyed surprise whenever he correctly signed something very simple to you.
“These are for you,” he steps closer, holding out the large bouquet of marigolds and roses he’d stopped for on the way home, making sure his mouth isn’t at all obscured by them as he does. He hadn’t skimped when he’d bought them, requesting the biggest package the florist offered and paying double what he’d ever paid before for flowers. It was worth it though, especially when once you’ve processed what he’s said, your face lights up all over again and you let out a soft little gasp as you move to meet him.
“They’re beautiful!” you croon as you bring the flowers to your nose. Jake had only ever bought flowers for his mother, and for a few girls around Valentine’s Day. They were always roses. He’d never bothered to ask what their preferred flower of choice was. With you, though, you had inadvertently told him on your first date while lost in a story about a failed garden you’d tried growing and how you adored copper marigolds and peach roses, but that no man had ever bought either for you, including your last boyfriend who’d seemed to think flowers were lame and unnecessary. He’d filed that information away, but curses himself for not using it any sooner as you smile widely back up at him, and push the flowers aside so that you can wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him sweetly.
“Thank you! You didn’t have to!” you say in between pecks to his lips, and Jake wraps the arm still holding the bouquet around your back, in the hopes that maybe you’ll stay pushed up against him just a little longer. You do, giggling softly as you continue to deliver soft little kisses to his lips, Jake dutifully returning each one, becoming aware of his own laughter joining your own as he does.
You pull away to grin up at him, and Jake drops one last, final kiss to your lips before giving you a slight squeeze, his own smile growing as you stare up at him.
“Baby, the smoke alarm is going off,” he informs you, chortling when you jump away from him in surprise, and quickly return to the stove to remove the pan from the hob. Jake follows you, placing your flowers down on the counter, and moving over to where the alarm sits high on his wall, reaching up to tap the button in the centre that switches it off.
“Sorry! The good news though is that dinner isn’t ruined!” you tell him happily, turning back around to go digging through one of his other cupboards. You straighten again when you find a large pitcher, and he watches you mill about for a moment, filling it with water before moving to place the bouquet of flowers inside. He feels his chest swell with pride as you primp and preen the roses and marigolds, and pictures you two weeks from now, with more and more petals falling from the flowers with every passing day, but refusing to throw them away because they make you think of him. The swelling of pride begins to turn into a swell of dread, and Jake really, really wishes he wasn’t leaving you in the morning.
You turn back to him and smile.
“Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll finish this?” you suggest, and Jake immediately pouts.
“Why don’t I just stay here and help you plate up?” he says instead, making you frown playfully and shake your head.
“Jake, you need to shower!” you scold lightly.
“I showered on base,” he shrugs, and pushes away from his counter to capture your waist and draw you near again.
“Jake… just let me do this for you… you leave tomorrow…” it’s your turn to pout. Jake’s heart makes a good effort to leap out of his chest and into yours.
“Exactly. I leave tomorrow, so just let me stay with you as long as I can,” he poses, and you soften, resting your hands on his forearms.
“Jake…” you sigh, and bite your lip a little. “What’re you gonna do for the next fourteen months, huh?” you question playfully, shaking your head.
“Wish I was plating up dinner with you.” he answers immediately, then feels his cheeks heat up a little. Your gaze drops from his face, but you’re smiling softly, and rubbing your thumbs over his skin in a soothing manner.
“Okay,” you relent, before reaching up to cup his cheeks tenderly. “Okay.”
Jake leans into your touch, closing his eyes as he memorises the feeling of you holding him. You remain in pleasant quiet as the two of you go about preparing for dinner, Jake setting the table as you portion out the salad you’ve made.
Jake refrains from insisting you sit side by side as you eat, because he knows you’d struggle to hear him if you did, but after dinner, he does insist that the dishes can wait, convincing you to come up and shower with him instead.
You’ve barely stepped inside the glass cubicle when he’s pulling you closer, lips reaching out for yours and you giggle as you kiss him under the full stream of the shower head, laughing properly when he pulls back to spit a mouthful of water sideways out his mouth like a cartoon character. He grins at having made you laugh, but crowds you up against the wall almost instantly after, his smile pressed back against yours.
“M’gonna miss you.” he says right by your ear, before slipping his mouth down to your neck, and immediately sucking a small mark there. He knows your opinion on hickeys, so he’ll make sure the rest are somewhere you can hide them. You seem to squirm in his hold, your hands dropping from around his neck to press against his chest, his abdomen, though he knows you aren’t pushing him away, simply wishing to see his face.
“I’ll miss you, too.” you say after a moment, watching the water drop from his eyelashes, before you wrap your arms around him, pulling him near once again and pressing your chest up against his in a delightful manner.
“Promise you’ll come see me when I get shore leave?” He’s never asked this question before, and his heart immediately jumps into his throat. Usually he’d wait around for shore leave to go bar hopping, pick up a girl or two and show them a good time while he could. This time however, all Jake can think about is how best he can maximise all his spare moments for the next fourteen months to make sure they’re spent with you.
“I promise,” you say with another giggle, and it makes Jake pull back to look down at you. He’s not sure what he wants to say, if anything at all, but a beat passes where the two of you simply watch one another. Carefully your hand rises, skims along his cheek, but ultimately continues upwards where you smooth back some of the hair hanging down over his forehead.
“By my count we’ve got just under twelve hours,” you say then, and he can tell you’re trying not to sound so sad. It makes his stomach flop about.
“No time to waste, then, huh?” He leans in and murmurs against your lips.
Miraculously, you make it back to his bedroom somehow, shower water replaced with sweat now as you both work to make the most of the short time you have left together.
You let out a heavy breath of air as you adjust yourself once more, hands pressing against his taut abs, feeling the way the muscles move and tighten under your palms and fingers as you bounce in his lap. Your thighs are burning, but that's not going to be enough to stop you from chasing down another high. Jake’s hands at your hips take some of the initiative out of your control though, his grip firm and deliberate as he helps you move for him, forcing you up and damn-near slamming you back down again, his hips flexing in time to make sure he’s fucking you as deep as he can.
Your sounds of pleasure are muted against his lips, swallowed by him as he kisses you hungrily, one hand shooting up to clutch at the back of your neck when you briefly break apart. With one hand helping you move now, he begins tilting his hips more and more, his legs bent at the knee behind you, powering his thrusts and completely taking you apart. He lets you break away from his mouth, but doesn’t move the hand on your neck, and through half-shut eyes, you can see him watching you intently, his jaw clenched as he takes you in. He slows down.
“You look so pretty riding me,” Jake’s voice is deeper and more gravelly than normal, and his words are punctuated by tiny grunts of exertion that make you mewl. “Gonna miss the way you feel around me,” he goes on, using his hold on you to grind up into you with each slow thrust. You gasp when his hand on your thigh pulls a little, widening your legs around him and making you take him even more.
“Fuck! Jake…!” you cry out weakly, doing your best to keep your momentum, but with this new positioning, you barely have enough strength to lift yourself from him. Jake doesn't seem to mind, groaning in approval and suddenly sitting up, twisting your still connected hips to spin you beneath him now, his hand hiking your leg up over his shoulder as you go.
You gasp again, your own hands clutching his shoulders as he begins fucking you impossibly deep, picking up his pace again as he hovers above you, one hand now in the mattress beside your head.
“Take me so well, sweetheart,” he grunts out, closing the distance between you to press his lips back to yours. You chase him when he pulls away again, whining in disapproval, but his lips dont go too far, as he falls to his forearms and really begins to fuck you.
“Gotta give it to you so good you’ll be stuck on me, huh? Won’t think about anyone but me while I’m gone?” he goes on, and all you can do is nod.
“You gonna cum?” he asks a little more coherently, and you nod, because the way he’s driving into you nearly has you toppling over already. “Yeah? Go on, let me feel you, want you to cum around me, honey.”
His words alone are enough to push you off the edge, more so when you feel him join you, and you arch up into him, curl your hips against his own ragged thrusts, desperate to keep him from pulling out halfway through. He doesn’t seem to be planning to this time, and you mewl and moan in delight at the feeling of him filling you up, the feeling of him dripping out of you when he gives you a few last firm thrusts.
Jake pants above you, the hand by your head slipping down to caress your cheek as you both take a moment to come down. He kisses you, long and deep and nearly enough to get you going again. You wait patiently when he pads off to his bathroom to find you a cloth, and you barely notice yourself dozing off until you wake sometime later.
The bed is empty, though the bedside lamp has remained on, and you sit up properly, rubbing your eyes.
“Jake?” you call out, but you don't see him in the bedroom or bathroom. Frowning, you scoot out of his bed and grab one of his old squad shirts, slipping it on as you move out of his bedroom in search of him.
“Jake?” you call out again, trailing your hand along the wall as you step softly down the stairs to the first floor. It doesn’t help that you can’t hear him, but your worries are belayed the moment you turn around the corner and into the kitchen, and you’re greeted with his bare back as he stands at the sink. He’d pulled some sweatpants on, but they’re hanging low on his hips, enough for you to see the little dimples at the base of his back, and you itch you wrap your arms around him again.
You try to be as quiet as you can as you move up behind him, relishing in the small jump of surprise he does when you trail your hands over his skin and around his front, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades. You feel him chuckle, feel the deep reverberations through his chest as he does, before he’s pulling you by one arm around to his front instead, where your face now rests against his chest instead.
“I thought you’d fallen asleep.” he tells you, leaning down to absently press a kiss to your hair. You shrug, but peek over your shoulder to watch as he continues to wash dishes, moving with him when he has to move, loving the way he briefly wraps you up whenever he does so, as if he’s worried his twisting might scare you off.
“What are you doing?” you ask dumbly, even as he scrubs down the pan you’d used to cook dinner.
“I didn’t want you to have to wake up tomorrow and do the dishes.” He tells you quietly, like he was worried about admitting this to you, like it was something he should feel guilty about. You coo, and squeeze him a little tighter, just as another thought occurs to you. You’d meant to talk to him about it when he got home from work, but with all the messing around that had happened, you’d totally forgotten.
“Do you want me to drive you in tomorrow?” you ask, feeling the way he pauses. You look up at him after he stays quiet for another beat, and find him staring down at you oddly. Your eyes meeting seems to break him out of his reverie though, and he blinks rapidly a few times.
“You don’t mind? It’s an early start…” he tells you, trying to warn you off, but you see right through him. You can tell it means something to him, though you don’t know what, and a part of you wonders if he’d ever had a girlfriend drive him to base for a deployment before.
“I’m not going to see you for fourteen months, Jake, of course I don’t mind.” you say as if it's obvious. You watch him purse his lips, but smile softly.
“I’d like that.” he says at last, moving one arm to wrap around you permanently now, continuing his task one handed until you extract yourself from him to grab a drying cloth. He makes a sound you only feel briefly, but you shoot him an amused shake of your head and remind him that the faster the chore is done, the faster the two of you can go back to bed. He stops his complaining then, and when the sink is empty and the dishes all stacked away, he picks you up and carries you all the way upstairs again with your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping them there until you both fall asleep again.
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Jake can’t stop looking back over his shoulder at you as he stands with the rest of Dagger, getting ready to board. You’re right by the front of the crowd of family that has gathered to say goodbye, which doesn’t make it any easier. If you’d disappeared amongst the people, he could fool himself into thinking you weren’t there, but as it is, he can see you clearly, and it’s eating him up.
Even Rooster can tell, watching and following his gaze every time Jake longingly glances back at you, his brown eyes trailing to the beautiful girl in the front of the crowd, occasionally conversing with the people around her, but mostly just eying the group of aviators with a sad little smile.
“You should say goodbye.” Rooster tells him quietly, eyeing up the officers ahead of them and correctly guessing that they would be about to board. Jake swallows, and pushes his sunglasses up his nose.
“We’ve already said goodbye.” He doesn’t mean to sound so snappy or cold, but he really didn’t want to think about leaving you anymore than necessary. Beside him, Rooster shuffles and shrugs.
“Say goodbye again.”
Jake stays quiet for a moment, before he turns to look at his wingman, and then at the line ahead. Quickly shifting his bag and stuffing it into the other man’s hands, Rooster only nods at him before Jake’s body is moving, easily pushing past the junior officers who step out of his way quickly. He barely takes note of the saultes he receives, because his eyes are set only on you, the way you watch him with a frown, but even as he gets right up to you, and you open your mouth to speak, he keeps moving, cupping your jaw and pressing a series of kisses against your lips.
When he pulls back you frown is gone, replaced with a lightness he hasn't seen since before he’d told you he’d be leaving.
“Will you wait for me?” he asks breathlessly, aware now that the carrier had begun boarding, and he needed to get back.
“What?” you ask with a slight laugh. Jake only leans in to kiss you again, and from somewhere behind him, he can hear a few servicemen whistle. You’re still giggling when he pulls back, but he digs into his uniform pockets and brings out his keys, pressing them into your hands.
“Wait for me.” he says again, waiting until you nod your assent before looking away from you. Through the crowd, he can hear someone, Rooster calling him, an edge of warning in his voice.
“I’ve got to go.” he tells you dumbly, and kisses you again.
“I know. Go! I’ll be here when you get back!” you assure him with a laugh, kissing him back but pushing him away at the same time. Jake grins upon hearing the words, and steps in to kiss you again, before finally dragging his body forcefully away from yours, and back to his team.
Phoenix is giving him a funny look that he ignores as he takes his bag back from Rooster with a silent nod of thanks. He receives a pat on the shoulder from the other man, who looks down his sunglasses at him thoughtfully. Jake sees his eyes trail off and he knows Rooster is looking at you again. He pats Jake’s shoulder once more, his lips tipping up teasingly.
“She’s cute,” Rooster tells him. Jake eyes him as he replaces his sunglasses.
“Yeah,” he says. “She is.”
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“Hey babygirl, it’s good to see you,” Jake can’t help his wide grin even as he stares at your somewhat blank, reserved expression. Something in his chest wobbles as you eventually give him a weak smile, and he nervously adjusts his camera.
“Hi, Jake.” You say. It only makes his stomach wobble too.
“Is the software working okay? I have captions?” he asks, double checking the program on his end to make sure for the fourth time that everyone is tip top. You nod.
“Yeah, yeah, everything is working fine. I even put my hearing aids in… I’ve missed your voice,” you tell him.
Your words go a small way to alleviate his anxiety, but it’s been four months since he’s communicated with you via more than just email, and he can’t help but listen to the voices in his head from long before he met you, telling him that you don’t want to wait for him any longer.
“I’m honoured, you hate wearing those,” he says with a stiff laugh. You smile a little wider, but don’t seem to relax.
“Too much noise,” you agree. A quiet beat passes between you and Jake steels himself for what he knows is to come. You both speak at exactly the same time.
“Listen, baby, I’m really sorry I haven’t been able to do this sooner, but–”
“–I’m pregnant.”
Jake freezes, and so do you.
“Oh, thank god,” he hears himself say outloud, his entire body sagging as the weight of what he’d thought you were about to say leaves his body entirely.
“That’s… that’s not what I was expecting…” all stress seems to have left your body too, and for the first time since your call connected, you too appear to be completely at ease. “I thought you were going to break up with me…” you tell him, making Jake start.
“I thought you were going to break up with me!” Jake exclaims, before quickly quientening his voice. “Christ you scared me,” he tells you, letting out a sigh of relief.
Your face is a mixture of amusement and bashfulness.
“You’re more scared of me breaking up with you, than me being pregnant?” you ask, and Jake finds himself nodding immediately.
“I wouldn’t say scared, per se…”
“Your own words, Jake,” you remind him, and he chuckles, but shrugs. You both pause for a moment as you take in the wealth of new information and relationship security you now bask in. Jake jumps then, and leans in closer to his screen.
“How far along are you?” he asks, unsure of what really to ask in this situation, it’s honestly not one he’d ever been in before, but he’s proud to discover his mind immediately has calibrated for it.
“I’m going to the doctor in the morning, but I’m guessing around four months,” you tell him with a slightly wry smile. Jake laughs.
“I should hope so,” Jake chortles, before turning serious again when he sees you only laugh weakly.
“How are you feeling, baby?” he asks, then quickly, for your sake, adds; “For the record, I want whatever you want, I just want it with you.”
Your face travels through several emotions, but you at last give him a watery little smile.
“I really thought you’d break up with me, I haven’t even thought about anything else,” you admit, and Jake feels something else in his chest wobble.
“Honey, unless you’re planning on breaking my heart right now, I’m not breaking up with you any time soon… or ever, if I’m honest… I’m sorry that’s not been clearer…” he tells you, feeling a slight lump in his throat at the very thought.
You were it for him, he thinks, he can’t imagine not coming home to you. He’d even considered throwing his medical on purpose the other day, just so he could wait for your email he knew was likely to come. Jake has never even considered that before, not even for family. A knock on the door makes his face fall, and he turns to glare at the ensign who pokes their head in.
“Liuetenant Seresin, sir, Captain Mitchell requires you on deck.”
Jake sighs, but nods grimly.
“Tell him I’ll be there in a moment.”
“Sir!”
Jake looks back at you, already smiling sadly.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I need to go,” he says tiredly. He’d wished he got more time to talk with you, but especially about this.
“It’s okay Jake, we’ll be fine,” you tell him. Jake can’t stop the quirk of his lips as he stares at you.
“‘We’ huh?” he asks teasingly, feeling something like excitement, or perhaps pure, sheer joy race through his veins. You cock your head but your arm moves, he can’t see where exactly, but he suspects your hand now rests against your belly.
“Yeah. We.”
Jake swallows thickly, and nods, unable to fight the smile that pulls at his lips.
“Okay, baby, okay,” he hears another knocking on his door and huffs. “Send me everything you can, I don’t know when I’ll get to call you again, okay? Send me everything.”
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Jake walks quietly alongside Dagger as they return to their ready room, listening to them discussing possible ‘new’ hand signs for each other to signal readiness for the manuevour they’d been working on not even twenty minutes ago, prior to landing. He checks back into the conversation long enough to watch the proposed sign that Payback suggests, and immediately begins shaking his head.
“That’s ‘math’ in sign language,” Jake tells him, earning a look from Phoenix.
“Since when do you know ASL?” she asks, not fully sounding accusatory, but certainly not shying away from that tone either. Jake looks up at her and opens his mouth, but it’s Bob who gets there before him.
“He’s been practising with me,” Bob informs her, making Phoenix only more curious. She turns back to Jake expectantly. Jake shifts on his feet as the group comes to a halt, clearly also wanting to know what this is about, and for a brief moment, he considers telling them to mind their damn business.
That thought passes though, his spite warmed into a quiet kind of glee at the mere thought of you, his chest tingling slightly under the picture he has tucked into his flight suit.
“My girlfriend is deaf,” he says at last with a small shrug. Phoenix stays eying him for a second, even more curiosity filling her gaze, but after a moment she relents. He knows she’ll have questions later, but for now seems to be content not to make him answer them in front of everyone.
“Huh.” she says, and with that the squad continues moving.
Eventually, Phoenix and Halo peel off to the women’s locker rooms, the boys moving on to theirs, Payback, Coyote, Fanboy and Bob making straight for the showers. Jake can’t shower yet, though, he has precious cargo to return to safety, so moves straight for his locker, peeling it and carefully removing the photograph from his breast. Using the wad of blu-tac he’d acquired a few weeks back, he gingerly sticks the image backup in its home when he’s not flying, making sure not to get any fingerprints on it as he does.
“That was a good exercise,” Rooster’s voice makes Jake almost jump out of his skin, and he turns to look over his shoulder, quickly shooting the other man a nod.
“Yeah,” he replies simply, his lips thinning into a line as Rooster steps closer, opening his own locker but inevitably glancing over at Jake’s in the process. Jake tenses up as he feels Bradshaw pause, but after only a few agonising seconds, Rooster is moving again.
“Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound.
“Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.
Jake reaches up and rapps the ultrasound fondly.
“Twenty-three weeks. She’s supposed to be the size of a peach, but hell if I know what I’m looking at,” Jake shrugs and rolls his eyes, even letting loose a small smile when Rooster leans over to get a closer look. After a moment he too pulls a face and they meet eyes.
“Yeah, looks like topography to me,” Rooster shrugs as well. Jake looks back to the scan thoughtfully.
“Oh. Yeah. There’s a mountain range…. Small valley…” Jake trails off as the showers seem to shut off in near-unisen. 
He quickly shoots Rooster a steely-eyed stare, which thankfully the other man seems to understand the meaning of, because all too soon their conversation comes to an end and Jake shuts his locker door protectively.
Their veil of secrecy is shattered however, when Javy, dressed in only his towel, waltzes right up to Jake, opens his locker door again, places a kiss to the ultrasound, then carries right on as Jake quickly closes it behind him. Rooster shoots him a look, and before the others can make an appearance, Jake explains himself.
“Only Javy knows,” he grinds out, but can’t find himself too annoyed. Javy had immediately taken to his Uncle role, sending little gift packages to Jake's house for you to discover.
The ‘My Uncle Is Single’ onesie was particularly cute.
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Jake doesn’t even really have to push his way to the front of the line at the docks. Not only had Dagger made a path for him, but they were actively hauling at the collars of younger sailors, and from behind him he can hear various calls of ‘make way!’ and when one sailor protests a little too loudly, Phoenix saying ‘Hangman’s about to meet his kid for the first time, do you really want to get in the way of that?’. He makes a note to thank them later, but then he sees you, and he sees his baby, and all thoughts fly out of his brain.
He rushes up to you, gathering you both in one tight hug before you even seem to realise it’s him. But then he hears you laughing waterly, and he pulls his face back enough to plant a long, passionate kiss to your lips.
“Hey baby, hi!” he gushes cupping your cheek in his hand, before quickly extracting himself only a little, and focusing his attention on the bundle of excited squeals in your arms.
“Hi Princess, c’mere, I’ve been waiting so long to meet you!” Jake continues to talk before you can even get a word in edgewise. You laugh again, and shift the baby on your hip enough and Jake steps in again quickly relieving you of the weight. His daughter is immediately enraptured by the pins and shinies on his uniform, and she babbles talkatively up at him. Jake had shared his worries with you that she wouldn’t know him, recognise him, but all that is quickly abated when she stuffs a fist in her mouth and all but collapses against his chest.
His whole body fills with a warmth like he’s never known and he looks over at you.
“I think it’s too loud for her,” you say with a laugh, cuddling in closer to the other side of his chest. Jake looks between the two of you lovingly, adjusting his girl so he can show off some of the ASL he’d managed to learn in the last fourteen months.
Sorry, he signs carefully. Just – little – longer. Team – want – meet – you – both.
Your face lights up in recognition and your eyes get a little mistier. So – good – now! You sign back slowly for him, just as he feels several presences come to an anxious stop behind him.
“Bob helped,” he says, getsuring over at Bob, who steps forward with a short little wave.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ma’am,” he tells you, before his eyes shift to the baby in Jake’s arms. He tips his hat again at the girl who, as Jake turns, seems to be quietly inspecting the newcomers, drooling all over her tiny little hand. Bob does another little wave, more goofy this time, and she giggles, but turns her face inward briefly to Jake’s chest even more.
Jake uses his free arm to pull you in a little, and nods at his team.
“Baby, this is Dagger, that’s Bob,” he briefly pauses to show you Bob’s sign name, before he goes on to point out the others. “Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy, Payback, and this is–” he gets cut off as Javy pushes his way to the front of the crowd.
“Uncle Javy!” he announces, balling you up in a tight hug. You laugh and nod.
“Thank you for all the gifts for her! She loves them!” you tell him, which only makes him smile wider, and puff his chest out some as he rounds on Jake and his daughter.
“Can I hold her now?” he asks, with his arms already out. Jake’s features drop into a friendly glare.
“No.” he says firmly, tugging the baby closer. He’s rewarded when she begins to fuss a little at all the new attention, and Jake quickly begins shushing and cooing at her, only for her to relax and fall quiet, her tiny fists now clutching desperately into his jacket.
“That’s right baby, daddy’s not gonna let Uncle Javy take you away from him.” He runs his hand comfortingly up and down her little back, snuggling her closer.
Javy rolls his eyes, but relents, pointing at Jake and you.
“Ya’ll got one week, then I’m crashing,” he tells you. Jake shakes his head, but you nod, looking up at him. You sign ‘babysitter?’ at him, then getsure at Dagger in general, and after he puts two and two together, he’s shaking his head.
“No. No way,” he says. You nod again and gesture back to the group.
“No,” he says.
“Yes.” you reply, Bob nodding quickly along with you. Jake rolls his eyes up at the sky, then back down at you. He looks over at where Rooster, Phoenix, Fanboy and Payback have all started cooing and making faces at his girl, making her giggle and kick her feet, and lets out a sigh.
“Fine. Maybe.”
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moonlight-prose · 6 months
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✧ PRESSURE ✧
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a/n: we have officially reached the end of week one and we're ending it with a bang! i feel like it's mandatory i do a threesome fic with these two every kinktober. but i can't help it. they're so perfect for this dynamic. the amount of love i go for my hangman fic is overwhelming so thank you to everyone. i hope you enjoy this one just as much!
day eight - double penetration + threesome | kinktober 2023
summary: "you were the gravity keeping these pilots on the ground, the reason they came home after every mission, after every training and debacle. you were it for them. their lifeline."
word count: 2k+
pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader x jake 'hangman' seresin
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, double penetration, threesome, assplay, ass eating, anal, overstimulation, bradley and jake being sweethearts, they're in love y'all, m/m.
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So this is what death must feel like. What leaving this earthly plane was at the end of things when you took your last breath—leaving behind everything you’d ever known. There was no sure way for you to tell. No way for you to understand that what you were experiencing was like that, because you could barely make sense of where you were. Of what your name was.
His teeth dug into your shoulder, hands spread along your hips as he took you apart with ease. You were on top of him, pressed into his body until there was no space between you and him, but that’s what you wanted. What you craved. His lips met yours, silencing the loud whimpers that echoed in the room as his hands slid to your ass, spreading you obscenely.
“You want it don’t you honey?” he cooed in your ear, his fingers digging into your flesh, keeping you open for the second pair of eyes that burned into you.
The eyes that you knew so well you could practically see them yourself. Bradley knelt behind you on the bed, watching as you sunk onto Jake’s cock, fucking yourself on it in the hopes of getting either of them to move. But they held you steady. Keeping you still as they kept the pace—ever so patient and diligent in their nature. You understood that came with being a pilot, the strength to keep yourself poised and ready, but fuck if you didn’t hate it when it came to this.
“Please,” you whimpered, hips pressing down—Jake’s cock slipping in even further.
“Please huh?” He dipped his hand even further, sliding into the slick that practically leaked out and around his cock. “Look at our girl Rooster. She’s leakin’ for us.”
You pressed your face into his neck, your body responding to his words in a way that should have made you feel ashamed. Except there was that small niggling feeling that bloomed in your chest, forcing its way to the surface with ease. Pride. You liked knowing he was unable to stop staring; that while they rendered you a mess, you did the same for them.
They could keep their composure all they wanted, but when it came down to it. They would fall to their knees for you with a single look—pleading to feel you like this. Which is why you fell into it with ease; pressing yourself into Jake’s hands and allowing him to spread you even wider—giving Bradley an even better look at what awaited him. You heard the audible grunt he let out, the bed dipping as he shifted, his head falling down and forehead pressing into your back.
“So pretty for us baby,” he said, awe tinging his voice, his breath hot against your skin.
“I—” You wanted to ask them to keep going, to beg them, but Bradley’s tongue sliding along the base of Jake’s cock gathering your slick silenced you.
It sent heat streaking up your spine, your toes curling at the sensation. A choked sound stuck to your throat, muffled by Jake’s shoulder, but they heard it nonetheless. His tongue slid up higher, pressing against the hole they’d only teased before. The place that they had yet to claim as theirs. You unconsciously pressed back into it, asking for more as he worked your slick and spit along you—making a mess with his mouth.
“She likes that,” Jake grunted, feeling your walls clamp down around his aching cock. “Keep licking at her and she’ll cum.”
“That right baby?” Bradley asked, sinking his teeth into your ass. “Like my tongue back here?”
A sob echoed in the room, your eyes rolling back when he continued, pressing a finger against the tight ring. He moaned audibly into you, spitting where his finger was now knuckle deep, pressing on something eviscerating. You shook against Jake’s body, your hips pressing down and taking him until the hair at the base of his cock dragged perfectly along your clit. And that was all it took to bring you to a sharp end.
“Oh—fuck—” You cried, gushing around Jake’s cock as the pressure snapped in two, flooding your body with that sensational bliss.
Jake groaned, his hands pressing you tightly to him as he shoved his hips up—pushing you even higher. “There you go honey.”
You were completely unaware that Bradley had added another finger, stretching you gently as you came down from your high. But then it began to build again. That slow steady heat that trickled through your veins, singeing your nerves and stopping your brain altogether. It threatened to break you, to completely drag you beneath the surface of awareness. You pushed back against him, a guttural moan falling from your lips as you moved, begging him for more.
“Think she’s ready?” Jake asked, watching as Bradley sunk another finger into you, nearly turning you immobile.
He hummed in pleasure, spreading a hand up your spine and soothing you with soft strokes of his thumb. “Nearly there. Yeah baby? You almost ready to take me?”
A garbled echo of what they assumed to be yes came from you as they continued to take you apart. Your body shaking from the overstimulation of your first orgasm never truly coming to an end. You were left on the precipice of pleasure—about to be dragged over again, but then he pulled away. His fingers disappeared altogether, ripping a broken whine from your lips—your hips chasing the feeling.
You heard him chuckle, heard the way he stroked his cock—spreading your slick and his spit along the length. Which made you want him even more. Jake’s hands slid up and down your back, his lips pressing along your throat as he shifted. Slowly sitting up with you in his lap—his mouth finding yours and swallowing the soft moan you let out. At this point you weren’t able to move on your own. They had turned you into a pliable form beneath their touches and you fell into it—gave them everything they could have wanted, because they did the same to you.
“He’s gonna be gentle,” Jake said in a low tone against your ear. “Gonna take it slow with you.”
“I will,” Bradley promised against your shoulder, his hand sliding between your bodies and cupping your breast. Thumb running along your sensitive nipple. “Tell me when you’re ready baby.”
You let your head fall back against his shoulder, nodding slowly as you blinked up at him—coherency no longer a part of your skills. Bradley smiled sweetly, his thumb curling around your chin and bringing your lips to his. Licking slowly into your mouth—tasting the desire on your tongue and returning it in kind. They loved you. That much you knew. But this was something else. A flickering feeling that began to grow the longer you were there, wrapped in their arms.
“Pretty,” he mumbled, notching his cock at your backside, his thumb continuing to run a soothing circle along your chin, keeping your eyes locked on him. “So fucking tight.”
The breath caught in your throat, fingers digging into Jake’s shoulder when Bradley began to press into you. Thrusting into you with small movements and giving you time to adjust with every inch. Originally you believed this would be enough to break you, but you were wrong. It was earth-shattering. A sensation that shoved you so high you nearly screamed. But the sound was trapped in your chest, your mouth falling open silently as he panted against your cheek.
“You’re doing good,” he grunted, biting gently at your cheek.
Jake moaned, his head falling against your shoulder when your cunt tightened around him, nearly strangling his cock. “Fuck honey. Rooster ‘m not gonna last man.”
“Almost there,” he gritted, pushing forward a bit more until his hips met your ass.
And that’s when you screamed. Your voice finally back the second he sank to the hilt, filling you in a way that had your body shaking. Pleasure struck your body with such a strong wave you felt light-headed. The breath left your lungs faster than you could get it. You felt yourself gush, felt the wetness trickle down your thighs, but it barely registered in your brain that you were coming. That your body was wound so tight because of it.
“Fuck, fuck,” Jake spit, thrusting up into you and shoving you even higher. He bit down on your shoulder, hands grasping on your hips as he fought against finishing.
“You good?” Bradley asked over your shoulder.
“Yeah. Just…damn.” He turned his attention towards you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “How are you honey?”
Finally after so long, you managed to speak. “G-good,” you whispered hoarsely. “Feel good.”
“Yeah?” He thrusted up gently, watching with a grin as your mouth fell open, your hands scrambling for purchase against his chest. “You like being filled with us? That it?”
“Ah!” You nodded, nails biting into his skin as Bradley shifted, meeting Jake’s thrust with one of his own.
It was a strange sensation to feel both of them at once, nearly touching one another but still apart. Yet that’s not what drove you back to the very precipice of finishing. It was the sound of Bradley dragging Jake closer, his lips sealing over the man’s with ease—tongue licking into his mouth. Your walls fluttered at the sound, chest heaving as they sped up slightly, their bodies pressing you between them so tightly you could barely move.
“Can feel you baby,” Bradley whispered hotly against your ear. “You want to cum again? I know you do.”
“Yes—” Your eyes rolled back when his hand fell down to your clit, swiping against it gently. “Hng—FUCK!”
As if on cue, your body spasmed, walls clamping down on both of them and sending you reeling. Another gush of wetness spilled along your body, coating Jake’s stomach and the tops of his thighs as he fucked himself into you rapidly. You could feel it. The way they were both holding onto their releases by the very skin of their teeth, their nails digging into your skin with enough pressure to draw blood.
With a hoarse shout, Bradley spilled into you, his hips slamming into your ass with a speed that shoved Jake even deeper. A choked sob caught in your throat, your body arching into Jake’s as he quickly followed Bradley. Spurting into you with a cry, his body falling against yours—face pressing into your heaving chest. It was a mess of pleasure, the three of you now in shambles.
“That was…” Bradley panted, his chest pressed tightly to your back, lips trailing against your shoulder.
Jake softly whined when he pulled out of you slowly, seeing the way the sticky release spilled from you. “Never seen anything better than that.”
Bradley chuckled. “I think we broke her.”
“She’s still here.” Jake kissed your lips gently, his hand pressing against your stomach softly. “C’mon baby. Open those pretty eyes for us.”
You responded to his words, sinking into Bradley’s hold a bit more as your eyes fluttered open. They were glassy and dazed, the fucked out look on your face more prominent than it had ever been before. And that made them smile. Hell you could barely form a single word in your head, but you’d never felt better in your life. Your body sluggish as they moved you to lay down—Bradley pulling out as Jake grabbed a warm cloth.
“You want a bath baby?” he asked, his eyes roving along your body to make sure you were still intact—still okay after something so extreme.
You nodded, curling your fingers into his hair slowly. “That sounds good,” you rasped.
He grinned, hands sliding up your waist. “Whatever you want, baby. It’s yours.”
There was no doubt that he meant every word. That you came before anything. You were the gravity keeping these pilots on the ground, the reason they came home after every mission, after every training and debacle. You were it for them. Their lifeline. So when Bradley gathered you in his arms, Jake coming up behind him with a glass of water and your favorite silk robe in hand, you believed him.
Whatever you wanted.
Even if what you wanted was both of them. At once.
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thorsonoflesbian · 1 year
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Jerry Bruckheimer and Paramount: Top Gun is a heterosexual movie dedicated to the military.
Val Kilmer and Glen Powell, captains of their respective ships, holding pride flags and bull horns: I THINK THE FUCK NOT
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withahappyrefrain · 2 years
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Parking Spots and Matcha Lattes
Summary: In an attempt to get coffee, you meet a grade A asshole whose head you want to rip off. Meanwhile, Jake Seresin is pretty certain he just met his future wife in the parking lot of a coffee shop.
AKA Jake Seresin likes mean women, pass it on.
Shout-out to @p3mybeloved who isn't in the TGM fandom, but is the inspiration for this fic ♥️♥️
Part two is up! As is part 3!
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It hadn’t been just a long day. It had been a long week.
And it was only Tuesday.
You were exhausted from working after hours to meet critical deadlines. If Barbara from admin found one more thing to nitpick, you were going to lose it.
So you decided to get coffee. Could you have made some at home? Absolutely. But you needed something, just a little something to make your morning brighter. Something that would remind you there was some good in the world and help you get through the first two hours of your day.
Instead of hitting snooze on your alarm clock five times, you got up after hitting it twice. You even remembered to apply deodorant and swipe on mascara. You left five minutes before your alarm to leave went off. Five whole minutes. You were on track to get coffee and get to work in plenty of time. Things were going well.
Too well.
You should have known something was about to fuck up your day when you saw the perfect parking spot. When the hell did that even happen? Never, you should have just gone to the back of the lot.
Foolishly, you started making your way towards the spot, thinking of all the things you could do with the extra minutes you would receive from your soon to be princess parking.
Your car and body lurched forward as you slammed on the brakes in order to not run into the white Jeep Wrangler that sped out from around the corner.
The heart palpitations you were experiencing from the sudden, potentially life saving decision descended into anger as you watched the speed demon take not just your desired parking spot, but also the one right next to it due to parking at an angle.
You gripped the steering wheel as rage seethed through your body. Instead of an elderly lady who just shouldn’t be driving, a tall blonde man dressed in some type of military uniform got out of the car. He didn’t even check his horrendous excuse of a parking job, walking into the coffee shop without a care in the world.
What a fucking asshole.
Normally you’d just find another spot and try to move on.
Not today. Because today was supposed to be a good day and you had done everything in your power to ensure it would start off on the right foot and this douchecanoe just ruined it.
So you found a nearby parking spot, walked over to the eyesore of a car and waited. All the rage and anger built up into you, thinking about his horrendous parking job, as well as the bullshit of your job.
You didn't even wait for him to say anything before tearing into him. The fact he was blonde and conventionally attractive added to your anger because of course a real life Ken doll would think it's okay to park like that.
"Hey dickhead! Who the fuck do you think you are, parking like that?"
"What the-oh wow," his voice trailed off when he took in all of you, not that you noticed.
"Is that how you drive tanks in the army? Because if so, holy shit, our country is-”
He scoffed, “Sweetheart, please. I’m a Lieutenant pilot for the Navy. And one of the best ones at that.”
Whether it was the Texan drawl that dripped through his voice or how he expected you to fall to your knees by revealing this information, you rolled your eyes.
“Oh, so you can fly million dollar planes but can’t park without taking up two spaces?” You remarked. He seemed to be taken aback by your comment, which gave you the motivation to keep going.
“First off, who the hell drives through a parking lot at forty-five miles an hour?! There are kids-well teenagers-who walk through here! I know your car is obnoxious as your personality, but not all of us get an adrenaline thrill from having to slam on their fucking breaks so they don’t crash into you.”
You didn’t notice how his emerald eyes were wide and staring right at you. You were on a roll.
“In fact, you probably wouldn’t have had to park so offensively if you had fucking slowed down. Or, you could have had a shred of decency and repark. Don’t they teach that in the military? To have honor or some shit? Or were you too busy doing bicep curls at the gym that day?”
It was then you noticed that his eyes were wide, reminding you of those stupid disney princes your cousins used to fawn over as kids. The look he had on his face made it seem like he was in a far off place, it was almost…..dreamy?
“Hello?” You waved a hand in front of his chiseled face, “Are you even listening to me?”
“I’m trying, but your eyes are super distracting, has anyone ever told you that?”
It took your brain several seconds to process what he just said. Then you had to take another ten seconds to process that he wasn’t being cocky or a smartass when he said it. He was being genuine.
What the actual fuck?
—---------------------------------------------
Jake Seresin woke up this morning, like any other day. He got up early so he could get coffee off base. The Starbucks they had on base was always overcrowded and bitter. Plus, it was nice to get off base for a little bit, get away from things and have a sense of normalcy.
He was not expecting to meet his future wife in the parking lot of a local coffee joint.
Nor was he expecting her to introduce herself by yelling at him.
But it was kinda perfect.
You were stunning, even though you assumed he was in the army, of all things (he’d let that one slide, you’ll learn eventually).
The passion in your eyes as you pointed out exactly what was wrong with his parking job was admirable, alluring, even enticing.
Jake couldn't lie, he'd thought you'd be impressed or at the very least, taken aback by his rank.
Instead, you steamrolled right past it, continuing to list what he had done wrong, taking stabs at him along the way.
It was hot.
You were making valid points. He didn't have to drive that fast, it wasn't like he was late.
But it was also extremely difficult to focus on what you were saying when those big bright eyes of yours were burning into him.
How could he focus on anything else?
So he was honest and told you so.
"What the fuck is your problem?!" You threw your hands up in exasperation.
That we aren't making out right now, is what Jake wanted to say. But his mother would smack him if she found out that's what he said to her future daughter-in-law during their first interaction.
"I have no problem darlin'. In fact, I'm pretty great. Got a matcha latte and have just met the most stunning girl in the world," he flashed that blindingly white smile, ready for you to ask for his number.
"You parked like that for a matcha latte? You couldn't have made me slam on my breaks for something that doesn't taste like dirt?" You spat.
Huh, normally that line worked. The fact it didn't was more exhilarating than nerve-wracking.
Jake honestly found it borderline erotic.
"I didn't realize I had met a parking and coffee expert," He preened, that award winning smile remaining on his face. He was curious, what could get you flustered?
You swore you could see red.
Oh, he was trying. Trying to knock you off balance. Trying to see if he could rattle you. It fueled you.
"I'm not an expert, it's called being a decent human being with common sense, you knockoff Ken doll." The lovesick look on his handsome face remained. If he was a cartoon, hearts would appear over his head.
Oh, you were perfect.
Outright asking for your number wouldn't work. Compliments were going right over your head. He had to change tactics.
He looked over at his parking job before facing you again, "Y'know, you're absolutely right. That was a shitty parking job."
Your eyes widened, surprised that this walking Crest Whitening Strips advertisement could admit he had done something wrong.
Jake continued, "And I'd love to learn more about how to park correctly from you…over dinner."
When you started ripping into him, you weren't exactly sure what to expect. Most likely an argument that would end with middle fingers thrown in the air as you both walked away.
Not him asking you out.
"You want me to continue yelling at you about your inability to park over dinner?" You asked. Perhaps the lack of oxygen he experienced from flying planes had affected his ability to think. Perhaps folks should study the effects his job had on the brain. Not that Congress would allow it (couldn't interfere with recruitment).
That stupidly white smile remained on his face, "I was also hoping I could learn more about you too."
Hesitation filled you. The officer (or whatever his rank was) was being genuine. His compliments didn't feel forced. It was just odd that after being yelled at for nearly ten minutes, the conclusion he came to was that he wanted to go on a date with you.
"Buy me coffee first." You challenged, crossing your arms over your chest as an attempt to come across as intimidating, despite how much taller the soldier was compared to you.
A smile broke out onto his face. Not a cocky one, but one that was soft and sweet.
It was almost endearing. Almost.
"Anything for you darlin'," he declared, sea green eyes sparkling, "I'm Jake by the way."
You didn't expect him to go through with it. Nor did you expect him to jog ahead so he could hold the door open for you.
A warm feeling began to flutter in your stomach, until you remembered his heinous parking skills. That warm sensation would transform into a quiet, bubbling rage.
"Hangman? The fuck kind of name is that?" You asked upon hearing him say it to the barista.
"It's my callsign darlin'," he explained, like it was the most obvious and sensible thing in the world.
"First off, my name is not darlin, I just told you it two minutes ago. Second, you are way too smug to be telling me how your callsign is after a children's recess game, Officer." You ignored the confused stare of the barista who handed you your drink.
"I didn't get it from the game and it's Lieutenant," he corrected, his voice the sharpest it had been since talking to you.
A nerve had been struck. Or so you thought.
You leaned forward, your cardigan brushing against the khaki shirt he wore.
"Learn how to park properly and maybe then I'll get your rank right, officer." You were quite proud of yourself for that one, considering he was actually silent for a few moments.
Meanwhile, Jake was doing everything in his power to not sport an erection in the middle of the coffee shop. Because holy shit, you were hot. It was ridiculous how your smirk almost made his knees buckle.
He wondered if you'd prefer an early summer or fall wedding. He had always envisioned getting married in late May. But the rust colored cardigan you had on perfectly complimented your complexion. You'd probably looked great in mustard too. But those colors were more appropriate for a fall wedding and not-
"Cat got your tongue? Or does the navy have their own expression?" Your voice broke Jake out of his thoughts.
He just smiled, shaking his head, "Just got distracted by how pretty you are. Gonna tell you now, I don't know if I'll be able to focus on parking standards during our date tonight. Might need a second one for review."
You rolled your eyes, "It's not a date it's…. actually I don't know what you call it when you are teaching a grown ass man how to properly park over dinner-"
"It's a date." The barista called out before turning around to work on the other orders. Heat rushed to your face as Jake slipped a five dollar bill into the tip jar.
"Whatever" you fumbled to get your phone out, pulling up a new contact, "just give me your number so I can text you the address of the restaurant."
He quirked an eyebrow, "You're picking the place?"
"You can't drive for shit and out of all the types of tea lattes you could drink, you go with matcha," you leaned in to look at the sticker on his cup, "with skim milk. The federal government may trust you with their jets, but like hell I'm gonna trust you to pick a restaurant."
Oh, he was definitely going to marry you. In his head, he already tried out pairing your first name with Seresin and it sounded heavenly.
He just grinned, his emerald eyes shining and you really wished he'd stopped doing that.
The scent of cedar wood flooded your nostrils as he leaned in, his face much closer to yours than it had been so far. Was he bending his knees to be at eye level with you?
Focus, you told yourself. He can't park for shit and got zero sweetener in his drink. Who the hell does that?
"I look forward to showing you on our date that I have great taste, as well as many talents that will have you overlooking my parking skills," his voice was low, dripping with a pathetic attempt of seduction that made you want to bang your head against the counter of the coffee bar.
"Type your phone number in before I throw my drink at you. I don't care if I get fined with 'defacing government property'." You all but shoved your phone into his chest, earning a chuckle from him that sent more heat to your body than rage.
"Anything for you, Venus." Did the obnoxiously bright smile ever go away?
"Y'know, you could have a really strong legal case for what all the lack of oxygen has done to your brain, like not being able to remember my name."
Jake shook his head, "Oh, I remember your name. Venus suits you better. Hottest planet, looks great in rust," he motioned to your cardigan, "Goddess of love and beauty. It's quite fitting for you."
This guy was unreal. The grip you had around your drink tightened, your bottom lip pushing forward to form an annoyed pout.
"I look forward to our date tonight, Venus," He said as he handed you back your phone, his long fingers brushing against yours.
Your eyes couldn't roll harder, "I look forward to serving my country by teaching you how to properly park, Hangnail."
"It's Hangman."
Now it was your turn to smirk, "Nah, Hangnail suits you better," your voice dropped, mocking his southern accent.
With that, you left the coffee shop. You had to, otherwise you were going to throw your drink at him.
You missed the downright lovesick smile that adorned Jake Sersin's face as he watched you walk out.
"Thanks for helping me meet my future wife y'all," He said to the very confused baristas.
"She looked like she wanted to murder you," one commented.
Jake laughed, shaking his head, "Don't worry. I'll win her over."
As you got in your car, a vibration from your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out, a message from an unknown number flashing on your screen.
Looking forward to our date tonight. Can't wait for your lesson Venus ;)
Oh that bastard. When the hell did he have time to send himself a text to get your number?
You shook your head despite the fact he couldn't see you.
A loud horn made you jump. You looked up from your phone to see the living embodiment of a Ken doll in his car that was now in the middle of the parking lot, right across from your car.
He waved. God, you wanted to wipe that smirk off his stupid face.
Instead, you rolled down your window.
"What the fuck are you doing?! You're going to block traffic!" You yelled.
"Text me your address Venus! I'll pick you up at seven!" He winked, driving away as he ignored your comment.
At least he wasn't speeding through the parking lot this time.
Maybe there was hope. Maybe. Doubtful. Probably not.
On the way back to base, Jake wondered if you'd prefer a silver or gold band for your engagement ring.
-------------------------------------------
@spidervee @sebsxphia @hangmanapologist @xbamboowishesx @rae-gar-targaryen @theharddeck @abibliophobiaa @mothdruid @stranger-nightmare @princessphilly
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justabigassnerd · 8 months
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Days Like This
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Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x reader
Word count - 1,842
Warnings - periods, swearing, blood mentions, fluff, an ex is an asshole
Summary - your period striking at the worst possible time brings about revelations about your boyfriend
A/N - hey y'all I strike with another request! again, apologies for how long it's taking me to get through the requests and stuff but I am really trying for y'all I swear <3. I won't ramble so as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!
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It was supposed to be a serene Sunday morning where you’d wake up in your boyfriend’s arms and just laze around until you decided to get up and make breakfast. When you did peel your eyes open, you felt an all too familiar feeling and sat bolt upright, silently grateful that Jake hadn’t had his arm around you. Pulling back the duvet you saw exactly what you were expecting, a red blood stain standing out against the white mattress topper you had on your bed.
“Shit.” You swore under your breath as you stared down at the stain. Usually, you knew when your period was coming, always coming at the same time each month but it decided to get the jump on you this month. You begin to formulate a plan in your head, getting out of bed and rushing to the bathroom with clean clothes and underwear where you change into them, making sure to put a pad on.
When you return to the bedroom, Jake was still sound asleep, face smushed against the pillow as soft breaths escape his lips. You felt awful having to do it, but you needed to wake him up so you could clean your sheets. You and Jake had only recently gotten to the point in your relationship where you slept around each other’s houses, and you didn’t want him to see this and run for the hills. Jake made you feel loved like no one else had. He cared for you. And he was the perfect gentleman. But you knew some men got weird about periods and you were terrified Jake was one of them.
“Jake, wake up baby. I’m going to get started on some breakfast.” You say, your voice no louder than a whisper as you run a hand through Jake’s hair, a small smile crossing your face when Jake’s eyes scrunch closed slightly before they flutter open, his bright green eyes looking up at you as a smile graced his face.
“Morning, darlin’. Bit early for breakfast, isn’t it?” Jake says, his voice raspy from sleep as he props himself on his elbow, the action shifting the duvet you had pulled up to conceal the bloodstain, making you move around to your side of the bed, pulling the duvet back up in the act of making the bed.
“Just woke up with a bit more energy than usual, felt weird lying in bed.” The lie came quickly. You did not have the energy you claimed to have but you needed to keep up the act just in case.
“Alright, I’ll get up.” Jake says, pulling the duvet back on his side as your breath hitched in your throat, hoping he didn’t reveal the stain. To your relief, he barely gave the bed a second thought once he got out, pulling the duvet up and crossing to you, resting his hands gently on your hips and smiling down at you.
“So… breakfast?” He says, his grin wide as he reaches to press a soft kiss to your lips.
“Breakfast.” You confirm with a nod when Jake finally detaches his lips from yours. Jake moves his hands from your hips and moves to head downstairs, suddenly stopping and turning to wait for you.
“You go on ahead. I just need to sort something quickly. You can pick what you want for breakfast.” You say sweetly, a smile on your face as Jake nods before leaving the room. You wait to hear him walking down the stairs before you rush to pull the sheet off your bed, tossing the duvet and pillows across the room so you could remove the sheet and replace it with a fresh one which you do as quickly as possible before making the bed again. You bundle the sheet and your dirtied pyjamas into a wash basket and carry it downstairs to the kitchen so you could get to the utility room. As you enter the kitchen, you’re greeted by Jake as he preps the various foods he’s selected for breakfast.
“I’m thinking bacon and pancakes.” Jake says, turning to face you as he sets a pan on the hob with a grin.
“Whatever you want to have. I did say you could pick.” You say with a grin as Jake nods, turning around to begin making the pancake batter. You use his focus on making breakfast to slip into the utility room and to put your sheets and pyjamas in the wash. As you begin to load everything into the washing machine, Jake sticks his head into the room.
“Did you want fruit or chocolate chips in the pancakes?” Jake asks, stopping when you hurriedly shove the washing into the machine, haphazardly chucking in a washing tablet as you go.
“Either is fine.” You say, hoping he didn’t see anything.
“You okay?” Jake asks, making you nod your head, maybe a little too eagerly.
“I’m good. Just needed to put some washing on.” You say, turning on the machine and moving to squeeze past him to get back into the kitchen with Jake following right behind. He noticed how you winced slightly like you were in pain and he watched your hand reach to your lower stomach, and it clicked in his head.
“Forgive me if I’m overstepping, darlin’. But are you on your period?” Jake asks as he crosses back to the bowl of batter, finding the chocolate chips in the cupboard and dumping some into the batter. You froze at his words, looking over at him in shock.
“How did you…?” You start, watching as Jake abandons the batter once again before turning to face you.
“Well you’re too perky to be sick, and I highly doubt you’re pregnant. I also have sisters and my ma taught me how to notice the signs so I could look after my girl in the future.” Jake says gently, leaning back against the counter as he watches you carefully, seeing you shift in embarrassment.
“It would also explain the washing at this time of the morning.” Jake continues, regretting his words when you look away from him.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s disgusting and-”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, darlin’. Who said it was disgusting? It’s natural and it’s okay I didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed about it. Come on, sit yourself down and relax while I make breakfast.” Jake says apologetically as he leads you to the sofa and lets you sit down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before disappearing back into the kitchen where you hear food frying along with the faint sound of Jake humming along to whatever song is stuck in his head. It doesn’t take Jake too long to emerge with two plates of pancakes and bacon and hands one to you and places the other on the coffee table before quickly grabbing the coffee he had also prepared. When he returns, he sits alongside you and you both eat your breakfast quietly, the sounds of the tv being the only thing creating noise in the room. When you finish breakfast, Jake is quick to take both plates and mugs to the kitchen and load them into the dishwasher before returning.
“How are you feeling?” Jake says softly as he sits back alongside you, reaching out and cupping your cheek softly as you lean into his touch, eyelids fluttering closed at the action.
“Rough. I also just realised I forgot to stock up on snacks and painkillers for this.” You mumble, silently angry at yourself for living in blissful ignorance for even a moment. With a quick kiss to your forehead, Jake is back on his feet, making you open your eyes and look up at him.
“I’m gonna get dressed and do a snack run and grab some painkillers for you too.” He says and you quickly grab his wrist, making him stop in his tracks.
“You don’t have to, Jake. If you have plans or anything you can head out. I can take care of myself.” You say, smiling up at him as you try to convince him that you’ll be fine. You knew he often met up with his squadron or at the very least his friend Javy on the weekend and you didn’t want him to miss out on any plans he had.
“They were cancelled the minute I figured out what was going on. There’s nothing more important to me than taking care of my girl right now.” Jake says softly taking your hand in his free one and gently detaching it from his wrist before running a gentle thumb across your knuckle, finally getting you to let go of his hand.
“I’ll be quick. Your job right now is to sit there looking pretty.” Jake promises with a cheeky smirk before rushing upstairs to change before exiting your house. You lay across the sofa, curled up as another wave of pain runs across your stomach. You watch the tv in hopes the show playing will distract you long enough for Jake to return from his shop run.
Jake returned within record time, and had you convinced that he most likely sprinted around the entire shop to get you what you needed.
“Alright, I got some snacks, painkillers, and I picked you up a couple of extra packs of pads just in case.” Jake says as he eases himself down on the sofa. You sniffle lightly as Jake lays out the snacks he got on the coffee table, touched that he rushed out to the shops for you at the drop of a hat.
“Whoa, why the tears beautiful? Did I overstep?” He asks worriedly, tilting his head slightly when you shake your head, wiping the tears away.
“No baby, I’m just overwhelmed. No one’s ever done this for me before. My last boyfriend pretty much shamed me for having my period and barely gave me this kind of thought.” You say, smiling at Jake as he softens, moving closer and taking your hand in his.
“You deserve someone who takes care of you, darlin’. Especially on days like this. And I’m more than happy to be that someone for you.” Jake says softly, lifting your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles as you giggle lightly.
“I’ll grab you some water and you can take some of these painkillers and then I’m all yours for the day.” Jake then says, releasing your hand and rushing to the kitchen and returning with a glass of water. You take it while thanking him and then take the painkillers. You then curl up in Jake’s arms and watch the show on tv as Jake mindlessly runs a hand up and down your arm, each sweeping movement providing more comfort than the last. You always felt safe in Jake’s arms and to know he was someone who would stay by your side even when you’re not feeling great was such a relieving feeling. You got lucky with Jake. And you never wanted to let him go.
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cinebration · 8 months
Text
Too Slow For Me (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader) [One-shot]
Premise: Of all the bars in all the world, Jake had to walk into yours.
Tagged: @abaker74, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @the-romanian-is-bae, @b-bradshaw, @alldaysdreamers, @bat-luna-cat, @solo2leo, @lucy-sky
Warnings: none
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Gif Source: topgundaily
When you were hired to work as a bartender for Penny Benjamin at her bar, you thought nothing of it. The Jake Seresin you knew, while an up-and-coming hotshot flyboy, would never make it to TOPGUN, not with his mouth and his inability to play well with others. Working in the bar would be safe, you were sure of it.
Until a year later when Jake walked through the door.
A shock of surprise blasted through you when you recognized his face across the room, heard the familiar sound of his voice. Like suddenly being doused in cold water, you shivered and felt your heartrate skyrocket.
There was nowhere to hide. As the only bartender on duty, you were obligated to stay behind the bar. You couldn’t run even as Jake crossed the room and headed directly to you.
Trying to quell the mounting panic in your chest, your skin suddenly unbearably itchy as sweat broke out beneath your armpits, you forced yourself to stay calm.
He stopped at the bar and leaned his forearms against it. “Two beers.”
He flashed a pearly white smile.
You felt as though you’d been punched in the stomach. Nodding jerkily, you faced away from him to find two beers and pop off their tops, your face burning.
He didn’t remember you.
You handed him the beers and wordlessly took the money he slapped down onto the countertop, everything within you screaming as you fought back the hot tears pushing insistently at the back of your eyes.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, winking. “What’s your name?”
You quietly gave it to him. A faint crease rumpled his smooth brow.
“Don’t I—”
“Can I get two beers and a boilermaker?” another patron asked, raising their voice over Jake’s.
“Sure thing,” you answered with false cheer, scurrying away with relief to fetch the man’s drinks.
As Jake walked away to join his buddies, he glanced back over his shoulder as though to catch your eye, but you studiously avoided his gaze. Bitterness and pain flooded you as you kicked yourself for being stupid enough to think that working in a bar that catered to Navy pilots wouldn’t make you cross paths with him again.
Maybe, you realized, you had wanted to this happen. Maybe you had wanted the chance…
~~
When you first met Jake, he was fresh out of flight school and hadn’t earned his call sign yet. You hadn’t recognized that his confidence was arrogance and his ego was outsized even for an Navy pilot. You couldn’t see past the charm, his grin, and the mischievous green eyes.
You never expected Jake to even look at you. He seemed to like girls faster than the jets he flew, and you were decidedly not one of them. As you once half-heartedly joked with your mother, you were invisible, particularly to anyone who looked even half as handsome as Jake.
So when he approached you one night, teeth gleaming and eyes glittering in the soft lighting of the bar, cozied up to you, and invited you out to dinner, you could hardly believe your luck. You pinched yourself more than once through the night, so surreal it all felt.
He took you to a middle-grade Italian restaurant that was better than getting pizza and beer but not very extravagant. You didn’t mind, preferring the food to the heavier, richer foods of high-end restaurants. The conversation was stimulating, Jake’s charisma out in full force and the banter crisp and light-hearted. You had never quite so clicked with anyone as you did with Jake that night.
As the evening wound to a close, you were excited to see him again. Before you could say as much, he leaned in toward your ear and whispered, “Why don’t we get out of here?”
Your heart plummeted. Swallowing thickly, you pulled away and muttered, “I’m not…I don’t think so.”
He frowned. “Why not? I thought we were getting along great.”
“We were—are. But…not on a first date.”
He stared at you, the glimmer in his eyes fading. Shaking his head, he exhaled heavily. “You’re too slow for me, sweetheart.”
And he left you standing there, cheeks burning and your stomach roiling.
You hadn’t eaten Italian since.
~~
The night crawled. You exerted all of your energy trying to avoid looking in Jake’s direction or focusing on his voice as he crowed with his friends over winning shots at the dartboard or the pool table. You served drinks and faked smiles at everyone else that came up to the counter.
When the evening waned into the early morning hours, all that remained were Jake and his friends. You could hear the individual tick of the second hand of the clock over their laughter and raised voices, itching for it to be two a.m. so you could kick them out.
“Last call,” you finally yelled with relief.
Jake immediately sauntered over. You wanted to kick your own teeth out.
“Last round of beers for us,” he said, leaning against the counter.
Nodding, you counted heads and proceeded to collect the beer bottles.
“Don’t I know you?”
You froze, your heart thumping painfully in your chest. “No,” you answered. You popped open the first beer.
“Nah, I definitely know you”
You tried to pop off the caps faster, working furiously to hand them to him.
“Wait a minute…” He leaned forward, scrutinizing your face as you handed gave him the last of the beers.
“That’ll be thirty dollars.”
“You’re that girl. Italian dinner, no after party.”
Your cheeks burned. Ducking your head, you tapped the bar. “Thirty dollars.”
“Where’re the beers?” one of his friends called. “Hurry up, man!”
“How’ve you been?” Jake asked, frowning slightly as he dug around for his wallet.
“Why would you care?” you muttered, snatching the money from his hand. You scurried away from him to the opposite side of the room, hiding behind chores.
The group left before you had to kick them out at two. Relief made you slump into a chair with your head in your hands, your stomach slowly relaxing and releasing the knot it had been holding for hours. Somehow, Jake remembering you—or rather, how he had remembered you—was worse than him not recognizing you at first.
You took your time wiping down the tables and booths, stacking the chairs atop them so you could run a quick vacuum over the floor. The chores helped relax you, though bitter sadness lingered tartly in your mouth.
You locked up, debating how to tell Penny that you were quitting, and strode across the sand to the parking lot—where Jake and his friends had set up a stunt course with orange traffic cones, daring each other to do better as they screeched through the obstacle course. Cones went flying as each one clipped corners too hard or fumbled gear changes, the clutch grinding like a creature in the throws of pain.
You hesitated as you watched them, as you watched Jake laughing at his friends’ failures. Leaning against your car, you watched waited for his turn.
Climbing into the car, he revved the engine like he knew what he was doing and took off, burning rubber on the asphalt as he navigated the course. He clipped one cone, then two, before spinning out as a third snagged in the wheel-well.
Everyone laughed and talked shit as Jake climbed out of the car with a sheepish grin on his face. He shrugged it off and said, “Nobody can make this course, man.”
You pushed off your car, tossed your purse into it, and strode across the asphalt to Jake. He sobered as you approached, wariness diminishing the humor in his expression. You held out a hand for the keys.
“I wanna try,” you said.
A quiet ooooo rippled through the group.
“No offense,” he began.
You tore the keys from his hand.
“Uh, knock yourself out, I guess.”
“No way,” someone else said, shaking his head as you passed him to the car. “What’s a civilian gonna do? Total our car!”
You slipped into the driver’s seat and adjusted it before slamming the door shut, blocking out the naysaying crowd’s voices. Inhaling deeply, you glanced at the obstacle course, committing it to memory.
How’s this for fast? you thought savagely.
Kicking the car into gear, you shot forward into the opening of the track. With practiced hands, you shifted seamlessly through gears, the clutch almost purring with relief at not grinding. Coming up to the first pinched turn, you tore around it easily, the rear bumper of the car missing a cone by mere centimeters.
The thrill of the speed rushed through you, making the crowd and the circumstances drop away. You tore around the next turn, looked ahead to see that two scattered cones were a threat to your wheels.
Without hesitation, you slammed on the brakes, sending the car into a slide. Yanking the gear shift into reverse, you pivoted the car into another 180, sliding through both cones and whipping around to finish the last leg of the course.
You streaked through the other side, not a single cone touched in your wake.
Cheers thundered in the silence of the night as you killed the engine and exited the car.
“Un-fucking-believable!” someone shrieked. “Did you see that!?”
The only woman in the group was grinning, a “Niceeeee” hissing past her lips.
Jake trotted up to you. “That was—”
You tossed the keys at his chest. He had to scoop them off the asphalt as you strode across the parking lot to your car.
“Hey, wait a minute.” He hurried to your side. “I want to talk to you.”
“What for?”
He blinked. “I want to buy you a drink, catch up.”
You stopped abruptly, adrenaline still flooding your veins. You stared him directly, the first time you had been able to meet his eye all night. He took a step back under the force of your gaze.
“Why?”
“Because…you’re interesting.”
“I was always interesting, dipshit. You just didn’t stick around to find out,” you snarled.
You took off to your car, leaving him standing there. He tried to catch up, but you were too fast for him.
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callsigndragon · 1 year
Text
Sunshine | Jake 'Hangman' Seresin
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(I love this gif so much I'm not even joking)
Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Wife!reader
Word count: 1010
Warnings: nothing! Pure, lovely fluff.
This was requested by @bookaholics-stuff. Thank you, honey! This was such a cute request and I just had to write it NOW. Hope you like it!
FOREVER TGM TAGLIST: @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox @mercurio23 @shrimping-for-all @abaker74
(if you want to be tagged, ask me!)
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Mrs. Seresin was the only thing Jake didn't brag about. Don't get me wrong, it's not because he is not proud of you. Quite the opposite. 
He's so damn happy to have you in his life that he wants to treasure you. Keep you to himself. 
And there hasn't been a lot of time to talk about each other's lives during this mission. Phoenix wants to fix this matter, actually, suggesting all the members that a day at the beach could be a good opportunity to get to know each other. 
Unbeknownst to you, Jake had agreed to meet with the rest this Saturday, have something to drink at the Hard Deck, play some Dogfight football… Just a bunch of friends spending a normal day at the beach without having to worry about the safety of the planet. But that plan is thrown out the window when you, Y/n Seresin, the love of Jake’s life, ring the bell of Jake and Javy’s shared house. 
“Sunshine? Oh my god, what are you doing here?” Jake says, while hugging you tightly. It has only been a few weeks since the last time he saw you, but it feels like a lifetime away from you. 
“Heard that my handsome hubby had chalked up another kill, saved the day and also the famous Maverick. I had to come here and celebrate!” you explain, covering his face with kisses, Jake scrunching his nose due to the pure happiness of the moment. 
“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush, Mrs. Seresin” 
“Where’s Javy?” you ask, entering the house and leaving your small suitcase in the bedroom. 
“I don’t know, he said he was gonna meet Mickey and Reuben to buy something. Don’t ask me why because I can’t remember” he confesses, laughing. 
“Oh my, Jake Seresin, aren't you a bit young to be forgetting things?” you joke as you lay down on the bed, tired from the flight from Austin. You had been staying with your sister-in-law and her two kids for a few days, not wanting to be alone when you found out how dangerous this mission was going to be.
“It’s your fault. Do I have to remind you how I forgot my own name when I first saw you?” he recalls, sitting in the bed next to you, his hand quickly moving to your hair, and moving some strands out of your face. “You still have that effect on me, Sunshine” 
You smile, satisfaction running through your body as you realize that no matter how much time passes, Jake will always be completely and utterly in love with you. “I saw the beach while in the taxi. This place is amazing, Jake. And you are definitely sunbathing without me, huh? Look at that golden skin” you poke his cheek, making him giggle like a teenager.
Everyone saw Hangman, the aviator. 
But only you were able to see Jake, the loving husband. 
“Want me to take you to the beach, sunshine? We can take a bath and go for a walk.” he offers, kissing your forehead. 
“I’d love to”
-
“Is that woman talking to Hangman?” Phoenix questions out loud while leaving the cooler that Mickey, Reuben and Javy had bought earlier to fill with drinks, in the sand. 
“Maybe he is talking to the poor woman,” Fanboy suggests, moving his sunglasses down his nose to try and understand the whole situation. “Should we go rescue her?” 
“She doesn’t seem uncomfortable, though” Payback adds, the whole squad standing there like a bunch of sentinels, ready to jump into action if the lady needed to be liberated from the blonde cowboy. 
Seconds later, Hangman is throwing the poor girl over his shoulder and walking straight to the water. “Oh god, he’s gonna get smacked,” Bob laughs, opening his blue folding chair and sitting down to enjoy the show. 
“JAKE SERESIN PUT ME DOWN” you yell, trying to leave your husband’s arms, only to be thrown in the water. You stand up, your sundress now completely stuck to your body. Thank god you are wearing your swimsuit underneath. “If I didn’t vow to love you for the rest of my life I would kill you” 
“Did she say ‘vow’ as in ‘wedding vow’?" Rooster asks, looking at the rest of his team. “Man, I don’t understand anything” 
Javy, who had been trying to get the beach umbrella from the trunk after it got stuck, walks happily to the rest, wondering why the heck are they standing there like… well, idiots. “Guys what are you- Y/N SERESIN?” 
“JAVY!” the woman, who now everyone knows it’s a Seresin, runs to Javy, almost tackling him to the ground. "I'm so glad you're okay" 
"What are you guys doing here?" Questions Hangman to the group, joining his wife and his best friend. 
"Dude, beach day. We told you" Fanboy looks at Hangman, wondering if the pilot really had forgotten about it or was just messing with them. 
"Excuse my husband, he's having trouble remembering things lately" you tease him, earning a glare from Jake. 
"Husband" mutters Bob.
"Husband?" asks Phoenix. 
"Husband!" confirms Javy. 
"I'm Y/N. We've been married for three years now. And no, I wasn't forced to marry him, Rooster. I know you were about to say that" you say to Bradley, leaving him shocked. 
"I was gonna ask that, yes. How did you know? And how did you know I was Rooster" 
"Oh, cause I'm good, Rooster. I'm really good" you retort, making Jake laugh. 
"Oh no, there's two of them. We're doomed" Bob says, sitting down again. 
"I'm guessing Javy was the best-man?" Javy nods at Phoenix, answering her question. "Well, Mrs. Seresin, would you like to play some Dogfight football with us?" 
"I don't even know what's that but teach me, and I will play" you say, taking off the sundress and stealing Jake's sunglasses from him. 
He looks at you, wondering what had he done in a past life to be this lucky. Good job, good friends, and the perfect wife. His own personal sunshine. 
3K notes · View notes
rassvetsky · 1 year
Text
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Loverboy
jake "hangman" seresin x fem!reader
"Jakey, just have fun for me," your whine brought out a lovesick smile on his lips. "You can't call me every fifteen minutes and actually expect to enjoy your night out."
[1.1k] | incredibly lovesick jake seresin alert, idk what this is im not even sober, am i ever not drunk, anyway alcohol consumption, javy's bromance w/ jake, just fluff actually he's so cute i'm forever gonna stick up for the loverboy jake agenda
reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.
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With his back against the outer wall of the bar, Jake couldn't contain the smile on his lips while tapping away on his phone to find your name.
He had no idea how and when it happened exactly, this excruciating amount of pull that you had on him— which had him twirling his imaginary long hair and kicking his feet often after any moment spent with you or as a very natural response to a very casual text you sent, when nobody was around to see.
He was happy to be living up to the nickname you gave him long ago, when that too-good-to-be-true exterior cracked and cracked until he finally revealed his true nature; a loverboy.
Your line dialed for the fifth time as he held his phone up to his ear, the music still pretty much hearable even through the wall. Javy was inside waiting for him, and honestly was quite surprised that Jake would down the rest of his second drink and walk out right away because "I gotta tell my girl about this, she's gonna laugh so hard" but it was the new normal for a long while now, wasn't it?
You finally picked up, a bit later than usual since you said that you'd just be at home— catching up with work and stuff which Jake didn't really listen to the details of, and you couldn't exactly blame him for that. "Hello?"
"Hey, babe." his giddy tone could be felt through the line. "Jus' wanted to check up on you. What are you doing?"
"Ah," you chuckled. "Still working, honey. Same as you left me."
All you could hear was a hum of understanding before he released a deep sigh, leaning further on the wall. "Wish you were here with me, honestly. Javy's such a fucking idiot— can't wait to tell you all 'bout it."
"Jakey, just have fun for me," your whine brought out a lovesick smile on his lips. "You can't call me every fifteen minutes and actually expect to enjoy your night out."
"But I enjoy things a lot more when you're doing it with me."
"Machado's gonna hate me if you keep this shit up, y'know that?" he recognized your teasing tone immediately, huffing out a snicker. "He's still hurt that you wouldn't spend 'Bromance Day' with him."
"Well, his 'Bromance Day' just so happened to be February fourteenth, he should've managed his expectations. I was free on the thirteenth. Not the fifteenth because my girlfriend is an insatiable little—"
"Hey, shut it," you laughed, and he knew you well enough to know that you were shaking your head now, even if he couldn't see. "You should stop grumbling about one of the few people that actually endures your annoying ass, work on your time management and get back to the bar, alright?"
"Right," he took a deep breath again, not even aware that he was holding it— perhaps he was afraid of missing even the tiniest details of your voice, unhappy with the lack of justice the static of the line did to it. "I'm gonna wreck that dart board for you, baby."
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When Jake came back home that night, a little bit later than he said he would, but in his defense, you did tell him to have fun. Probably reeking of alcohol and sweat, he figured in his tipsy state that you must be asleep by now, and made sure to be extra quiet while shuffling out of his jacket and setting his keys down by the shoe rack. He tiptoed his way over to the bathroom then, and ran himself a cold shower— mostly to get rid of the scent, and to perhaps go to bed with a clearer head but he was sloppy nonetheless, and a shower without singing wasn't really a good shower.
He still sang some of his favorite songs very quietly though.
But when he walked into your shared room with a warm robe around his body, he didn't expect you to… not be there. It was late. You sure would've left what you were doing to run to his side the second he came back if you were awake, right?
Looking around the room in confusion as if you'd magically appear from behind the curtain and scare him shitless, he took a sharp breath and walked towards the small study you had— a comfortable, quiet space to work on stuff or to just think, and his prediction proved itself to be right because you were right there, arms crossed on top of the desk with your head resting on them, eyes closed, computer still open with whatever you were busy with doing on the screen.
God, he was smiling like an idiot.
"My busy bee…" he whispered to himself, before carefully approaching your desk— making sure to save all your work before putting the computer on sleep mode just in case. With one arm leaning against the desk, he then looked down at your sleeping figure, looking so content despite the awkward position— and he couldn't help the quiet chuckle that left his lips. "Should I wake you or potentially startle you while trying to carry you to bed?"
You didn't even stir.
"You're gonna be the death of me one day." he complained, but tried out a couple of different arm positions that he could potentially use to carry you— with no luck. That's when you finally let out a yawn though, mumbling out his name before slowly pushing yourself off the desk. "I'm sorry— I couldn't figure out how to pick you up. It's easier when you're on the couch—" but then you just wrapped your arms around his neck, getting in a better position for him to pick you up.
Too sleepy to do anything else. Jake felt his heart doing Olympic backflips.
With a secure grip by your waist and the back of your knees, he carefully picked you up from where you were seated, smiling to himself when he felt your lips by his neck, and then a tired murmur. "M'sorry. Wanted to stay awake for you but— work's boring."
He chuckled at that, a soft noise that brought a smile to your lips when your back finally met the cold mattress. "You should've just gone to bed, sweetheart. Your back will kill you if you keep that up."
"It's fine," you replied, only then opening your eyes to see him sitting by the edge of the bed, his warm palm covering your knee with a compassionate smile on his lips. "Bed's cold. You gotta warm me up or else I might actually die—"
"God, such a baby," his tease was followed by a chuckle as he slightly pushed you over to get to his side, quickly wrapping the both of you with a blanket before undoing the belt of his robe, just so the knot wouldn't bother you when he pulled you closer to his chest. "Go right back to sleep, honey. I got you."
And you were content on doing exactly what he told you to do, except, he didn't do the same— but instead, decided to take a good look at your serene expression and sigh to himself, nothing but whispers leaving his lips as he admired you. "I love you so bad, it's not even funny anymore."
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a/n: guess which songs jake were singing in the shower. my playlist is very dry lately and im going to steal your guesses shamelessly and then remember you fondly 3 years later when i stumble upon that song again and then we're gonna fall in love and—
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phoenixsbby · 2 years
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It’s Not Me, It’s You - Hangman x Pilot!reader
summary: your ex is back in town and that might be the kick in the ass Hangman needs to change the parameters of your situationship.
readers call sign is “stinger”
WC: 7.4k (yeah, that’s my bad)
a/n: the death grip Hangman has me on these days …
warnings: swearing, mentions of sex
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If there was a body capacity limit set for the Hard Deck, a number of people allowed in before the windows, doors, and walls break open, it surely would have been long passed by now. The bar is packed to the brim with civilians and officers celebrating the safe return home of a handful of aviators. You were not included in that dagger team but, Hangman was and you’d gladly honor his safety with a cold beer and his close proximity. Every time he came back in one piece, it felt like the iceberg of dread that settled in your chest when he was gone broke into pieces and melted away. 
You used the excuse of bodies being jammed too tightly together to wiggle your way in between Hangman’s legs as he sat at the bar. Both of knew that even if you were the only two people there, you’d still end up in that position. So close to each other, your faces only inches apart, with your head angled down and his angled up to hear each other over the loudness of other conversations and the steady stream of music. 
These days, it felt like the closer you could get to Jake Seresin the better. It was much easier to give into the gravitation pull between you two than fight it. This magnetic force had always been there, since the day got stationed in North Island. There was a competitive spark between you that eventually caught and bursted into flames made up of equal parts admiration and attraction. 
“Admit it, Hangman. You’re jealous.”
“I’m not.” He shook his head, keeping his gaze down at the pavement in front of him. You trailed a short distance behind him, hot on his heels. You’d been bugging him about how you finished the flight simulation faster than anyone and managed to take down two ‘enemy aircraft’ without getting yourself hit. You were the only one in their group to simulate mission success.
But you had pulled an extremely risky, borderline insane move to do it. One that scared the shit out of your fellow pilots, Hangman included. One wrong move, one wrong flick of your wrist, and your jet would have gone down with you in it.
So no, Hangman wasn’t jealous that you proved yourself to be a better pilot than everyone else that day. He was pissed that you’d almost ended your own life trying to do it.
“Don’t be a sore loser. Just admit it, I beat you on this one. I showed you up.”
“Okay, fine.” He snapped, turning around so quick that he almost rammed his body into yours. “Congrats Sting, you showed me up. You beat the simulation and almost got yourself killed doing it. Congrats on being reckless and completely oblivious to how devastated I would be if you did manage to get yourself killed up there!”
You were stunned into silence, blinking rapidly up at him. Hangman’s chest connected with yours every deep breath he took, it suddenly felt like he couldn’t suck in enough air to satisfy his greedy lungs.
“How devastated we would all be.” He corrected himself before stepping back to remove himself from your proximity. Shit, he hadn’t meant to say that. He wasn’t ready to lay his feelings for you bare. He could tell, despite his lame attempt to divert the idea of him being utterly broken at the thought of you getting hurt, you understood what he meant.
“I-“ You shook your head, clearing away the haziness of surprise that his statement brought over you. “I’m sorry. I knew it was dangerous but, I also knew it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”
“I don’t ...” There’s no turning back now. “I don’t like the idea of you taking that risk.”
A knowing smile started to form across your lips as you stepped closer to him, silently coaxing him to continue. “Why?”
Jakes hands flexed and unflexed rapidly at his sides, his mind churned through ways to properly convey how he felt. When no words came to him, none that truly felt good enough to portray the feeling pulsating behind his ribcage, he settled by taking your face in his hands and connecting your lips in a slow, starved way. 
When he pulled back, your eyes fluttered open to take in the most content, gratified smile you’d ever seen on Jakes face. “That’s why.”
Since then, that’s all the relationship has mounted up to be. Prolonged glances and stolen touches in public, unleashed passion and devotion in private. It was more than just sex though. In between the time you spend naked, wrapped up in each other, there’s holding and longing and exchanging of sweet words. It’s always feels like more than what you’ve been calling it and you’d gladly call it what it was (a relationship - gasp!). But it’s always Hangman that seems to hold back, reluctant in a way to claim you as his. 
You’re afraid to push the matter because whatever this is between you - it’s working. You’re happy. So happy to be hear his laugh up close and feel his thumb trace relaxing circles on the back of your hand. If something isn’t completely broken, why try to fix it?  
You’re so lost in him, in his green eyes and mesmerizing grin, that Phoenix’s grasp on your shoulder makes you jump. When your eyes connect with hers, you see they’re blown wide and you notice how tightly her fingertips are digging into you. You furrow your brows and go to ask her if she’s okay but, she beats you to it.
“You’ll never guess who got called in for the new assignment.” Her eyes break away from yours, scanning the bar as if she’s desperate to spot someone. You wrack your brain for who possibly could illicit this kind of reaction from Phoenix and draw a blank because everyone you really know is already there. 
Rooster’s leaning against the juke box, smirking and listening intently to the pretty blonde in front of him. Fanboy and Payback are showing Bob a new (and totally incorrect) way to hold a pool stick. Halo and Fritz are playing darts, Harvard and Yale are making fools of themselves on the dance floor. Everyone’s accounted for.
“Who?”
“Atlas.” Oh, shit. Your eyes widen to match hers as she nods like yeah, oh shit.
Atlas. You haven’t heard that callsign, let alone thought about him, in years. Not since you’d both attended Top Gun together. Not since you both fell blissfully but ignorantly in love. Not since he decided to end the relationship because you’d been stationed on different sides of the country. Not since he broke your heart.
Oh, shit.
Speak of the Devil and he shall appear, only seconds after Phoenix mentions him, Atlas comes busting through the doors of the Hard Deck with a few other pilots you don’t recognize. Their grins are wide, their booming laughs only bolstering their presence. They strut into the bar like they own the place, like they expect everyone to get down on their knees and worship at their alter. You’d be damned if you ever got down on your knees for Alexander “Atlas” Madden again.
But you can’t deny his presence is like a black hole, you want to pull your gaze away but you can’t. You’re thankful to be tucked around the corner of the bar, away from the area he just strolled in. You don’t want to get caught staring, you’re not sure if you even want him to know you’re here but somehow despite all of it, you can’t look away. He looks good, he looks bigger and more confident, kind of like he’s glowing. God damn it.
“Who’s Atlas?” Hangman leaves the question dangling in the air between you and Phoenix. She snatches up the chance to answer while your eyes and your attention stay occupied elsewhere.
“Her ex.” Those words have Hangman’s gaze snapping toward the notorious Atlas almost as hard as yours did. 
“Why is he here?” Hangman’s eyes bounce rapidly between you and Atlas, desperately trying to catch your gaze and refocus it on him. But you’re entranced so, Phoenix fills in the blanks again.
“Well apparently he’s good, really good ...” Hangman looks over to Phoenix and notices she’s about as enamored with Atlas as you are. How good could this guy really be? 
“We have plenty of really good pilots.” Jake scoffs, bringing the beer bottle to his lips hoping some of the cold, bitter liquid will help cool his internal thoughts down. The room around him suddenly feels too hot, the clothes around his skin too tight as he watches you watch your ex. He thinks he can make out a glassy, fervent look in your eyes. 
It’s a similar look to the one you give him when his hands are roaming every inch of you, when he’s taking you to the edge of a very specific cliff, pushing you over, and making sure he’s there to break the fall, soft and steady.
Hangman swallows a much bigger gulp of beer.
“Yeah but, more than half of us just got back. We’re still in the debrief period.” The bottle freezes in its place. “We won’t have enough time to train between now and the scheduled fly out date.” 
Hangman himself had just gotten back, Phoenix and Bob too. You, however, had not been selected for that assignment. Instead, you’d been chosen for an up and coming smaller mission that required less pilots, the very same one that Phoenix was assuming Atlas was called in for. Oh God, you and Atlas were going to fly this one together.
The conversation Phoenix and Hangman were sharing registers somewhere in the back of your mind, realization that you were going to be sent out with you ex will hit harder later, you’re sure. For now, everything’s all too paralyzing.
“He looks ...” You mutter with a distant tone.
“Yeah ...” Phoenix replies with equal distance, stuck between Atlas’s pull and reality itself.
“Okay,” Jake brings the empty bottle back down on the bar a bit more aggressively than he intended, the loud clap of glass meeting wood snapping both you and Phoenix from your trance. “Penny, I’ll take another.” Penny shoots him a knowing grin before swiping away the empty.
“Do you really think he’s here for ...” For my mission? That realization is starting to sink its teeth in now, stinging at the backs of your eyes and inside your nose.
“Why else would he be here?” Phoenix says.
“Shit.”
“Yeah ...”
Somehow both of your gazes have trickled their way back in Altas’s direction and Jake thinks he may as invisible as a cadet at this point.
“Maybe you should go say hi.” He grumbles before taking a sip of his fresh beer. 
“No.” You shake your head and look down at him, finally. “No, I couldn’t.” 
“Hangman’s actually right, you should go say hi.” Phoenix adds, causing you to jerk your eyes back to her and miss the way Jake shoots daggers at her over your shoulder. “You don’t want any bad blood between you two during the mission.”
“There is no bad blood.” You scoff. Phoenix narrows her eyes and gives you her favorite thats-such-bullshit-and-you-know-it look because ... okay, yes, it is bullshit.
You can’t deny that it hurt when Atlas walked away from the relationship you’d built together. But you aren’t worried that the minute Atlas opens his mouth, you’ll instantly fall back in love. You’ve moved on. You are worried that he’ll open his mouth and somehow manage to make you feel unworthy again. Unworthy of the effort it would’ve taken to stay together. Not good enough to warrant someones full love. 
“Right. And Hangman totally isn’t about to crush that beer bottle with his bare hand.”
On cue, all three sets of eyes are darting to where Jakes hand is white knuckling the bottle. He hasn’t even noticed it himself, too busy with the idea of something happening between you and Atlas. Something that warranted bad blood. What’d this guy do to you and how hard was Jake going to have to hit him to make up for it?
Jake releases his death grip on the bottle and looks up at you, your eyes colliding with equal hints of vulnerability behind them. You open your mouth to say something, to ease the discomfort you’re sure he’s feeling given the situation when an achingly familiar voice calls out your name.
You feel Atlas’s large hand come baring down on one shoulder before it slides across your back to the other one. He pulls you against him before you can even manage to get a glimpse of his face up close and okay, now you’re hugging him.
He’s tall and broad and his chest feels harder against yours than you remember but, his scent is still the same - hints of green apple and mahogany. Breathing it in, breathing him in, your body almost instinctually melts itself deeper into his grasp.
Oh no, stop that. Your brain is screaming, Stop that right now!
“Atlas!” Your voice comes out muffled against his uniformed shoulder. You grip his forearms and force yourself back, putting a safe distance between your bodies and sending him a hopefully natural, breezy (because you are so breezy, totally not phased at all) smile. “Wow, hi!”
Your greeting comes out an octave higher than it should and has Phoenix and Hangman sharing a look behind your back.
“Wow is right!” Atlas eyes roam around your face then dip down to cover your body. “I can’t believe you’re here. You look great.”
Hangman’s knee comes in direct, hard contact with your backside causing you to let out a nervous laugh to muffle your reaction from the impact.
“You, too!” You keep your eyes glued to his, willing yourself not to look down at his body, not to look at his hand that’s still resting on your forearm. “What’re you uh, doing ... here?” You use your hands to motion to the environment around you, hoping he understands you don’t just mean the bar. You mean to say ‘What are you doing at this base? What are you doing back in my life?’
“Oh, you know how it is. My secrets aren’t really mine to tell.” He winks and Hangman shoots up and out of his barstool from behind you. He’s reaching a hand out from over your shoulder, giving Atlas that practiced, perfected grin he knows can charm just about anyone.
“Lieutenant Jake Seresin.” He places his other hand subtly on your lower back as if to remind you that he’s here for you. “Hangman.”
Atlas gives his hand a firm shake before introducing himself. “Lieutenant Alexander Madden. Callsign, Atlas.” His gaze leaves Hangman’s and flickers in Phoenix’s direction. His grin turns into more of a flat line as gives her a nod. “Natasha.”
“Alexander.” Phoenix does not send him a semi-smile back nor does she nod, the two just simply look at each other. A beat of silence skips by, the two holding each others stares like cowboys ready to grab their pistols, fire out a lethal shot, and claim that Wild Western town as their own.
You guess, in this case, you’re the town?
You clear your throat and draw both their attentions back to you.
“We should talk.” Atlas’s eyes soften a bit as he steps closer to you before his eyes dart back and forth between Hangman and Phoenix who flank your figure. “Privately.”
“I-“ Your tongue trips on the phrase ‘I think I’d rather die’ because Phoenix is right. If you two are going to fly together, you need to be on the same wavelength with no lingering tension to clog up the airways. “I would like that.” Okay, that’s not the right phrasing either because like is not the word you’d use to describe how you feel about having the impending conversation. 
If Atlas senses your discomfort, he doesn’t show it. A grin slides its way back across his lips.
“Great. I’ll grab a drink and then we can meet out back by the beach?” You simply nod, he shoots you another wink, and then he’s gone.
“What the fuck was that?” A harmony of voices surround you, your gaze flicking between Phoenix and Hangman. 
“What?”
“I didn’t realize you just turned thirteen. Congrats on entering your awkward, school girl crush era.” Phoenix snickers as you playfully smack her in the stomach. “Seriously, I have never seen you act like that before.”
“It was nothing.” You mutter.
“It didn’t look like nothing.” You spin your body to face Jake and meet his eyes, he’s grinning and the vulnerability you saw in him before is gone. He’s teasing you, just like Phoenix, like he really doesn’t care that you’re about to be out back, alone, with your ex. But why should he care? You’re not his girlfriend, he’s made that clear.
“It’s nothing.” You repeat, a hint of venom seeping into your tone. You’re about to add something alone the lines of ‘Atlas can eat a dick’ when the man of the hour calls your name across the bar and motions for you to follow him out. 
You spare on last glance at Hangman, hoping to see something change in his posture, in his eyes, that begs you not to go. But you don’t, they’re blank and that burns the back of your throat more than the tequila shot Phoenix had you take when you first got to the bar. 
“Don’t wait up.”
 ——
Hangman does in fact, wait up. He waits, and he waits, and he waits some more, hoping at any given moment, you’ll come back into the bar and seek him out. You’ll wrap your arms around him, run your hands through his hair as you kiss, and murmur ‘Atlas who?’ against his lips.
Every so often he’ll take a lap around the room, glancing out the back doors, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Relief swells in his chest each time he sees you sitting a healthy distance from Atlas, neither of you making any advancements in hopes to get closer. He’s seen you smiling though, a few times you’ve thrown frisky punches against Atlas’s arm and reared your head back with laughter at something he’s said.
Hangman even bugs Phoenix for a solid thirty minutes about the story between you and Atlas but, she won’t budge. Something about being her being a good friend and all that bullshit.
In all honesty, Jake’s just worried. He’s not worried because Atlas is attractive and a good pilot, no, Jake Seresin isn’t self-conscious in that right. He’s worried because he doesn’t want Atlas to hurt you, to maybe break your heart. Clearly something had happened between you two, something that left Atlas feeling secure enough to approach you with a wide smile and open arms while you quivered and hid your figure behind the bar. That in itself has Hangman suspecting the something that happened hurt you an inequitable amount that it hurt Atlas.
And the idea of you hurting at the hands of anyone has powerful waves of anger crashing over him.
He’s being hypocritical and he knows it. Isn’t he hurting you in a way? He knows you want more than whatever situation he’s pushing you two into. He can see it when he looks into your eyes deeply, this little spark of hope, a silent question ‘Are you going to ask me now?’ ‘Are you going to tell me you love me?’
When he doesn’t, he can see the spark dwindle down to a just fleeting glint of light. The spark comes back though, somehow it returns every time he looks at you and he’s grateful he hasn’t snuffed out whatever’s inside you that allows the spark to catch at all. He’s playing with fire, one of these times, the spark will ignite and one of you may end up getting burned. He knows one day, he’ll have to draw out that fire and he’s thankful today is not that day when he see’s you come strolling back into the bar, Atlas free.
Your eyes scan the room until they catch onto his, then you send him that warm, all-consuming smile that had him gone for you since the first time he saw it.
“You stayed.” You lean your body against the bar beside his.
“Can’t let this Atlas guys ego get too big.” He wants to swallow the words back in because they’re not the ones he desperately wants to say. He wants to say that you’re crazy for thinking he’d actually leave you.
You roll your eyes but, your smile doesn’t falter, “Yeah, Atlas’s ego is the problem here.” 
The bar has cleared out, only a few locals and naval officers remain lingering past last call. Even if the bar was still cramped with people, it wouldn’t have stopped Hangman from reaching out, snaking a hand around your waist and pulling you against him.
He murmurs a soft “You love it” into your hair before swaying you gently to the music still streaming out of the juke box.
You wrap your hands around his neck and move your body in rhythm with his before replying, “Yeah, I do.”
With his body so close, you inhale his scent - cinnamon with lingering hints of whisky and mint. It’s warmer than Atlas’s scent, it floods your stomach with butterflies while also making you feel cocooned by a soft blanket, it both lulls and excites you. 
Being with Atlas again, back on the bar patio, felt comfortable. It was familiar in all the ways that taking the same route home every day is. But there’s nothing romantic there anymore, you don’t feel dizzy hearing his laugh or feel hot under his touch. It feels platonic, like the door to whatever could have been between you two is finally closed. 
Atlas was the past. Jake is the future, if he ever lets himself amount to that.
Jake pushes your body away from his, holding you an arms length away tightly by the hand before twirling you into back him and dipping you low to the floor.
A burst of laughter escapes you just before Penny rings the final call bell.
——
Prepping for your next assignment goes about as well as prepping for an assignment you know you’re going to be flying with your ex can go. You’re a little rattled to hear that the assignment will be flown with only two daggers; you, Atlas, and his WSO, Cujo. 
Yes, that’s right, his WSO’s callsign is Cujo. And when you meet him, you can completely understand why - the man is frightening. You never knew Atlas was assigned a new WSO. His old partner was quiet but unbelievably talented and they blended well together because he didn’t have a strong personality to clash with Atlases. Atlas liked submission, Atlas liked always being on top (in more ways than one). You have no idea how Cujo and Atlas can stand each other.
The first day is spent going over schematics, understanding the missions purpose and its parameters. It's safe to say that you, Atlas, and Cujo don’t do much talking let alone flying. You can’t say that you’re unhappy that you weren’t given free time to chit chat with either of them. Again, because ... Cujo. And because during your last talk with Atlas, he’d kept the conversation very casual with mainly surface level questions about how your lives had been since graduation and swapping old memories that had you chocking on your drinks with laughter.
He didn’t dare dip down into the nature of your split and what it meant to be flying together again and you didn’t press it. He won’t be staying in Fightertown after this assignment, there’s no need to open old wounds that took years to heal when you can forget they ever existed in couple days time. 
Atlas does not need to know that he has the emotional capability of a college frat boy and you do not need to know why you weren’t good enough to be loved by him. Ignorance is bliss.
Flight sims had been going well too, up until Mav decided to join in on the fun and imitate unexpected enemy aircraft. Then the bandaid you and Atlas slapped over your past was quickly torn off. 
“Holy shit! He just came out no where!” Cujo spun around in his seat, trying to spot Mavs F-18. 
“Talk to me, Sting. What do you see?” Atlas barked over the comms as you had just managed to turn your jet around to get a better look.
“He’s right on your ass, you got to move!” You pulled up hard, hoping to get a tail on Mav before he obliterated your partners. 
“Communicate, everyone. Come on, how are you going to get me off of him, Stinger?” Mavs voice crackled in your headset as you pressed to catch up.
“Atlas, break left hard and I’ll pull up and over him.”
“No way am I letting him in my blindspot.”
“But I-“
“Watch out!” Cujo broke up the back and forth when Mav did exactly what you instructed Atlas to do. With ease, he pulled up on the jet and let it course backwards over yours before bringing her back down with a direct lane to hit you.
“Shit!” With a last ditch effort, you nose dive, feeling the surge of gravity crush you back against the seat. It was no use, Mav was too quick in predicting your next moves and within seconds, he had you in lock. 
“Don’t worry, Stinger. Not every pilot can pull off a move like that.” Atlas spoke as you settled back up to an appropriate height.
“Where the hell were you after he got on my tail?” 
“I was trying to get in position-“
“And why didn’t you listen when I told you how to dodge Maverick?”
“That would have gotten us killed.”
“It wouldn’t have, actually.” 
“Look, just trust me on this one. It’s clear you don’t have as much experience-“
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re not ready for something like this!”
The words SCREW YOU were half way out of your mouth when Mav cut you off, “That’s enough! Head back to base, we’ll continue this tomorrow after you both figure your shit out.”
After jumping down from your plane practically before it stopped moving on the tarmac, you storm into the base and to the locker rooms. You’re shaking with anger, unkept, wild anger that you haven’t felt in years, an anger that no one besides Atlas has the power to resurrect from you.
Atlas is not mean nor is he a bad pilot but, he can be demeaning and a shitty teammate. As much as you try to shake off his snarky comments or the way he seems to want to do the exact opposite of what you suggest as his wingman, you can feel it picking away at you, at this wall you’ve built around you and your confidence as a pilot since you left Top Gun. He brings back this part of yourself that’s so insecure, so afraid to make one wrong move, that everything ends up going wrong anyway.
You haven’t been that kind of pilot in years, one who cowers and backs away from a fight. You’ve been growing and improving and had you returned to Top Gun now, you would graduate first in your class. But now Atlas’s stupidly hot face shows up and suddenly you’re mediocre and okay with it because he’s there feeding you these little backhanded comments.
‘Don’t worry, Stinger. Not every pilot can pull off a move like that.’
You have pulled off moves like that, much harder ones too. Yet he acts like he knows you, like you’re still that pilot helplessly in love and desperate for his attention.
With half-hearted effort, you toss your hemet across the locker room, only slightly wishing the locker it connected with to radiate a loud bag was Atlas’s stupidly hot face. Why did he have to show up? Why him of all people? You want this assignment, need this assignment, so you can prove yourself to leadership even more. 
“What’d that locker ever do to you?” Jakes voice usually eases the tension in your body but today, it holds no such effect. You’re as stiff as ever when he comes walking into the locker room. 
“Not in the mood.” You grunt, bending down to pick up the discarded helmet.
“I heard training was rocky today.” Jake takes a seat on one of the benches in the middle of the room and pats the open spot next to him. But his words send a fresh, white hot surge of anger ripping through you. 
“Oh yeah? Who’d you hear that from?” Your mind immediately conjures a picture of Atlas strolling around the base with a smile, searching for a replacement wingman. He’d ask, ‘Hey, anyone know where I can find a stable pilot around here to fly with?’ That dickhead.
“Mav may have mentioned that Atlas was getting under your skin a bit.”
“He is not!’ You raise your voice then clamp your jaw shut, clearly proving Mav’s point. All Jake does is raise an eyebrow. You deflate, releasing a long, shaky breath. “Okay, so, maybe he is. I don’t know why I can’t focus around him. It’s like now that he’s here, all these memories are resurfacing. Like the pilot I was when I was with him is threatening to wake up from hibernation and take control of my body.”
“You can’t let his guy tell you who you are. You know who you are. You’re a great pilot, a great partner. The Admiral pulled you for this assignment for a reason. You have just as every right to be here as he does.” Jake smiles and taps the bench next to him again. The comfort of his words has your muscles finally relaxing so you take a seat, pressing your body against his.
Jake reaches over and takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers before asking, “What happened between you two?” You avert your gaze to your hands that he’s placed in his lap. 
“Same old, same old.” You shrug, really not wanting to get into it with Hangman of all people. You didn’t want him to see you the way Atlas did when you were together, expendable, replaceable. “We dated for a bit. It just didn’t work out, we wanted different things.” To say the least.
“Sting.” Ugh, you feel soaked with the amount of pity dripping through his tone. You don’t want pity, you’re not the same pilot, not the same woman who Atlas dropped. You’ve changed, made yourself indispensable. 
“He left, okay?” You snatch your hand back from his grasp. “He didn’t think I was worth the effort of a long distance relationship. He didn’t think I was worth anything apparently. I thought he lov-“ Your voice involuntarily cracks and you instantly shake your head. Fuck this, it doesn’t matter if Atlas didn’t love you. This isn’t about love, this is about getting the mission done.
“Hey.” Jake’s voice is gentle as he reaches to wrap an arm around you. You stand up to avoid the contact and will yourself to get it together. You can’t be crying over this, over him. But now that you’re thinking about, now that you’ve let yourself talk about it, you realize maybe you just are unloveable.
Is that why Jake hasn’t committed to you? Maybe he knew that once something better came along, a different opportunity, he’d take it without question the way Atlas did. 
“He’s an idiot for leaving you, Sting.” 
“Yeah because his loss is your gain, right?” You turn around to face him, clenching your fists at your sides. 
“Well, yeah.” Jake shrugs. “If that hadn’t happened you wouldn’t be here, with me.”
“But I’m not. With you.” You watch him drop his head down and release a sigh before standing up.
“Are we really going to do this now?” 
“I’m sorry to inconvenience you, Lieutenant. But it seems every time the mere idea of this conversation arises, you run away.” He visibly flinches at your words but, you can’t find the effort to care. You’ve been steamrolled with this idea that no matter how much of yourself you give, no matter how much you change, you’ll never be enough for the people you love.
“That’s not-“
“It is what happens! I get it! I get that I’m not worthy of you or anyones commitment, that I’m not good enough for someone to settle for but for the love of God, will someone just finally come out and say it?” 
“Y/N.”
“Is uh, everything okay in here?” You look over Jake’s shoulder and see a hovering Atlas in the doorway, still in his g-suit, looking like he’s ready to pounce on Jake should you ask him to. You let your eyes find their way back to Jakes and see him unfazed by the new presence in the room. He’s staring at you so deeply that you can feel him in your soul, roaming around, searching for something inside there. 
“Yes.” You croak out. “Everything’s fine.” 
“O-kay. Can I borrow you for a minute then?” That seems to wake Jake up from his stupor. He turns around with his hands on his hips.
“Now’s not the time, buddy.”
“But, I-“
“No, it’s fine.” You cut Atlas off. “We do need to talk.” Because there’s still a mission we need to fly together. You brush past Hangman, your shoulders briefly connecting before you hear him call your name like a plea.
You gesture for Atlas to lead the way and don’t bother to look back.
——
The sun has long set by the time you arrive home that night, the only light illuminating your way comes from yellowing street lamps and the half crescent moon. The conversation you had with Atlas has coated itself on your skin like salt water, sticky and uncomfortable. You’re eager to take a long shower to wash the day away and start fresh tomorrow.
When you pull in to see Hangman’s jeep parked in your driveway, you take a few seconds with your forehead resting on the wheel of your car before going in. How many hard conversations are allotted per day and how have you not already met that quota?
You’d given Jake a key to your place a month or so ago, telling him to make himself comfortable whenever needed and clearly, he’s taken your words to heart as he’s laying on your couch when you make it inside. For a second, you think he may have fallen asleep and almost let out a silent cheer but, his eyes crack open at the sound of the door closing behind you. 
“Hi.” He greets you, his voice hoarse and low. You bite your lip and try to shake away any thoughts that voice normally brings you. His shirt’s a bit rumpled, his hair slightly out of place from your pillows. Ugh, he looks down right cozy and you ache to cling to him but, you can’t. You’re not sure you’ll ever get to again. 
“Hi.” You lean against the island counter a good distance away from him. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you.” When you don’t reply, he sits up and clutches his hands together in front of him. “How did your talk go with Atlas?”
“Where do we begin?” Atlas released a breathy, forced chuckle from in front of you. You’d chosen to have this conversation outside despite the California sun beating down on you, causing beads of sweat to roll down the back of your neck.
“Why don’t we just cut right to it? Why’d you say those things to me up there?” 
“I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Except that you did. What you say, those comments you make, they mean something to me, Atlas.” He ran a hand through his hair and over his face before nodding. “You always did this at Top Gun. It’s like no matter how good I am, I’m never good enough for you.”
“Stop.” He took a step closer and you clamped your mouth shut. “You were good enough, you still are. But I wanted to be better. When I saw how well you were flying before that last run with Maverick, I was jealous. You’ve clearly improved since I’ve last seen you and it made me mad.”
“Wow, thanks you asshole.” 
“I know,” he sighed “I’m the worst.” You couldn’t argue with that.
“How could you go from loving me one minute to derailing me the next?” You refused to let your voice dwindle down, it remained sturdy when you added, “How can you say I was good enough back then but leave anyway?”
“I’ve got an ego that I can’t seem to control. You really were a great pilot then and I knew you were destined to keep getting better. I told myself I couldn’t live in anyone else’s shadow, let alone the girls that I loved. To me, you were as enticing as you were terrifying. I couldn’t love you completely because I saw you in two different ways; the girl who could give me everything I wanted and the pilot who could take it all away. I made a mistake.”
“Dude,” You shuttered “you need therapy.” You held his gaze with a straight face until you saw a grin poke its way out from both corners of his lips. Before you knew it, you were both laughing, with the smoke of the past clearing, the air between you felt light.
“I am actually seeing a therapist.” Atlas said once the cackling settled down. “I want to be better, do better, for the people around me.”
“Good, Alex, I’m really glad.” You gave him a genuine smile then because you were proud of him for taking that step toward improving himself. “I know we can fly this mission together successfully. We’re a team, this isn’t a contest anymore.”
“You’re right. We can do this together. I’d be honored to fly alongside a pilot like you, Sting.”
“Well then it’s settled,” You stuck out a hand in front of him to shake “teammates.” He connected his palm with yours and gave it a good squeeze. When you expected him to pull away, he didn’t. Instead, he kept his hand locked on yours and tugged you a bit closer.
“Y/N, I really meant it when I said I made a mistake all those years ago. As much as I needed to let you go then, I wish I didn’t have to. I also meant what I said about trying to be better.” He started to move his free hand up the length of your arm, your muscles strained in response. “If you could give me another chance, one more shot, I can prove to you that we can be what were then but better. I loved you, Sting. I’m positive I could love you again.”
“He said what?!” Jakes up from the couch now, approaching you quickly with frantic eyes. “Oh man, I know I should’ve hit that guy when I had the chance.”
“Relax, Caveman.” You cross your arms in front of you, taking in the site of Jake trying to occupy his hands. You can tell he wants to reach out and touch you but doesn’t know if it’s the right time. He runs them through his hair then down his shirt, he even shoves them in his pockets before ripping them right back out.
“Jake,” you groan and capture his hands in your own “your anxiety is giving me anxiety.”
“Well, what did you tell him?” He gives you a delicate look, one etched with soft features and the vulnerability you got a hint of back at the bar.
“I told him that I couldn’t be with him. Well actually, I think I said something along the lines of ‘it’s not me, it’s you’ because that’s what I realized - I was never the problem in that relationship. I also realized I can’t hedge my own worth on what some guy thinks of me, I know I’m good enough.” 
Jake smashes you against his chest, encasing you in his arms before running both hands up and down your back soothingly, finally able to put them to good use. 
“I’m proud of you.” He breathes into your hair before giving you another squeeze. For a second, you allow your body to morph into his, to be bundled up in his warmth and his smell and his comfort. You could allow yourself to stay here forever, to be content with whatever love and lust Jake can yield to you.
But after your talk with Atlas, you know this in your bones - you want more. To be given that from Jake would be a dream but, you aren’t going to settle for someone unwilling to take that next step, to show you how much you and your future together meant to them.
With a final kiss to the neck, you pull yourself out his hold and steady yourself. You try not to let tears build but, you can already feel the prickle of them against your dry eyes and a lump form in your throat.
“I-“
“Wait.” Jake silences you easily. “Back on the base, you told me that you didn’t feel worthy of someone’s full love. I’m so happy to hear that on your own, you’ve come to the realization that the statement is the furthest thing from the truth.” Well, you didn’t really say that ... “But, I want to reiterate it, in my own words.”
“I’ve known that I love you, like fully-completely-with-ever-fiber-of-my-being love you since before we kissed in the parking lot after you almost got yourself killed. I’ve known since before you let me win that game of darts after I got my ass handed to me by Maverick. I think I’ve known since the first time you smiled at me-“
“But that was-“
“Yes, your first day on base, I know. You just radiated this kind of energy that hit me like a drug, I was getting more and more addicted to you and I didn’t even know it. Now, I know it.” He drags a hand across the skin of your cheek, caressing it gently. “I thought that maybe if we didn’t exchange those words or took this to another level, that it would hurt less when I inevitably fuck it up. But it doesn’t matter, I’m in love with you, Sting. And I want it all, regardless of how much it could hurt.” 
You press your forehead to his, hoping every emotion too powerful to put into words will seep from your brain to his so he can understand how much he means to you. “I won’t let you fuck this one up, Seresin.” The promise comes out with your lips dancing over his.
“I’ll hold to you that.” With that, Jake connects his lips fully to yours. His kisses are greedy and captivating, igniting every cell in your body on fire. He guides your arms around his neck without breaking the kiss and nips at your bottom lip as he brings you forward. The swirling need grows stronger in your stomach as his wraps an arm around your backside and pulls you down to the couch, melding your body on top of his.
He detaches his lips from yours and quickly reattaches them to your neck, sucking lightly at all the different spots he’s learned make you buck your hips and moan his name. When you gasp, he thinks it’s because his tongue has found your favorite spot but, he’s stopped short by you pushing yourself up to look down at him.
“Wait, I forgot!”
“Forgot what?”
You smile, your pupils are blown wide, cheeks beet red, lips swollen. Jake takes a mental picture of you in that moment, hoping to store it in his mind forever. Right then, he’s sure he’s never seen you look more beautiful.
“I love you, too.”
——
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^ me bc this is not based on the true events of my life and is completely fiction
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bobby-r2d2-floyd · 1 year
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The Nanny (Hangman x Reader)
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authors note: so, hangman won by a long shot in the poll, but for the few that voted for the rest, they're still coming! i have to deal with the bs with my basement and i am a college student, so i have to deal with my coursework as well.
inspired by @roosterforme
this will be a mutli part series, im not sure how many parts though
pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x benjamin niece!reader; established mav x penny
warnings: some swear words and an inaccurate depiction of how social workers handle dropping a baby off to its living, absent father. also cyclone is a dad bc jon hamm if a dilf.
not proof or beta read, we die like men.
summary: Hangman wakes up one day to a social worker and an infant on his doorstep. the infant? his 3 month old daughter.
word count: 1.9k
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It was the one day that the Dagger squad had a later morning (11am, per Maverick’s request), so when the pounding on Jake’s door woke him up at 8:45, he was a little pissed.
He stumbled out of bed and the arms of some red head whose name he definitely doesn’t remember, throwing on a shirt along the way to his front door where the pounding is originating from and reverberating through his skull. “I heard you the first fucking time,” he curses out, throwing the door open and preparing to unleash verbal hell on the person standing at his doorstep.
All the words die out though when he sees an older woman standing there with a sleeping baby in a car seat at her feet. “Jacob Seresin?” she asks and his eyes bounce between the infant and the woman.
“Yes?” he asks, voice cracking a bit as he looks back to the woman.
“Do you mind if I come in?” he nods and moves aside as she picks up the car seat and steps inside. “My name is Caroline Husband, I’m a social worker for the state of California.” she tells him as she sets the seat down on his coffee table, “and this is Avery. Your daughter.” 
Jake feels his heart stop as he looks down at the little girl, “what, what do you mean?” he sinks down to the floor on his knees, heart racing and Caroline gives him a small smile.
“Her mother-” she looks down at the paperwork she was holding, “Samantha Barnes, passed away from complications shortly after birth, you were listed as father on the birth certificate.” 
Samantha Barnes… Jake remembered her with a small smile. They were briefly exclusive before she had disappeared one night, leaving behind the memories and a note saying she needed to go back home to help with her ailing father, her last living relative that she still spoke to.
“H-how uh, how old is she?” he asks, taking her small, but definitely bigger than a newborn, hand in between his finger and thumb.
“She spent some time with a foster while the state was waiting for you to return stateside. She just turned 3 months old.” Caroline forms him, which makes sense as he was just in the middle of the ocean for the last five months. “I have some supplies in my car that her foster mom put together for you, should you choose to keep her.” 
“Choose to?” he asks, as if there was any other option for him. The second he found out Avery was his, there was never any other option.
“You can alway sign your parental rights away, there’s plenty of families looking to adopt babies.” she says and he shakes his head.
“No, she stays with me,” Jake says as he stands and Caroline smiles up at him.
“Well then, there’s all the information that you need. Her old foster mom made a list of information for you, her pediatrician, what formula she was feeding, how to prepare bottles...” she goes on to tell him more necessary information about Avery but tunes her out as he watches the little girl start to wake up and look around, well, as much as a 3 month old can, he supposed. “Here’s my card, it has my personal cell phone number on the back should you not be able to reach me at my office in the event of an emergency.” 
He takes it with a smile and a thank you before walking Caroline to the door to help her bring the items in from her car and as quickly as she was here, she was gone. Leaving Jake to sit on his couch as he stares into the eyes of his daughter. 
He kicks out his guest after 15 minutes of sitting there before he’s googling how to put a car seat base securely into the back seat of a F-150. After fighting for what felt like an hour (only 10 minutes) he has his daughter secured in his car before driving way under the speed limit to The Hard Deck, only 45 minutes late to meeting up with the rest of the Daggers but as soon as they see him walk into the bar with a car seat, all the teasing for being late blows out of there mind. 
“Do we need to call the police?” Bradley teases and Jake lets out a nervous laugh.
“No.. no police needed.” Jake says as he sets his daughter’s car seat and diaper bag in the middle of the pool table the team was surrounding.
“Well, then who is this?” 
Jake takes a deep breath before answering, “this is my daughter, Avery Seresin.”
Immediately the team has plenty of questions for the team’s resident playboy. He explains the situation as best he can with the information he got from Caroline.
“I never even knew Sam was pregnant. She never said anything and then she was gone.” Jake says softly as he looks down as his daughter in his arms, sleepily drinking from the bottle he made and Penny gives him a smile.
“You seem like a natural already.” she says, snapping a photo of the daddy-daughter moment and he smiles.
“Yeah, I was still around when my sisters started having their own kids, all girls too, ironically.” he responds with a small laugh and the movement of his chest startled Avery awake and she starts drinking more steadily again.
The squad takes the rest of the day before the bar opens with turns holding the newest member of the team. Aside from Jake, Bob and Natasha were the only other two who seemed comfortable enough to hold her without needing any instruction on support for her head. 
“Does Cyclone know you have a kid yet?” Mav asks as he takes his turn holding Avery, seasoned from when Bradley was a baby and he used to watch him while Carole and Goose needed alone time. 
“Fuck, no not yet.” Jake groans as he rubs his hands over his face. “I need to go see him.”
“Go see him now, between Penny being a mom and me dealing with Bradley as a baby there’s plenty of experience here to watch Avery for a bit while you try to get some time to adjust to dad-life.” Mav says and Jake looks over at him.
“You’re serious?” 
“Yeah, besides, Avery is already better at 3 months than Rooster ever was.” Mav teases and Bradley makes a couple of offended noises before being slapped in the chest by Natasha. 
Jake nods, “okay well here’s her-”
“Hangman, get out of here. I did all this with Amelia.” Penny says as she pushes him towards the door and Jake pulls her into a hug.
“Thank you so much, Pen.” he says, meaning it too since Penny is the closest thing to a mom that he has since he hasn’t talked to his real mom in years. 
The drive into base wasn’t a long one, but felt like it was with how often he was checking his backseat and not seeing his daughter before remembering she was safe with Penny and Maverick at the bar. 
Walking into Admiral Simpson’s office, Jake broke out into a nervous sweat. “Um, excuse me, sir.” he says as he knocks on the open door.
Both Admiral Simpson and Admiral Bates looked up at him from where they were sitting at the desk discussing some news that they received from higher ups. 
“Can I help you, Lieutenant?” Cyclone asks and Jake nods, taking that as an ‘okay’ to walk into the office.
“Yes actually, I uh.. I was wondering if I would be able to get leave, sir. I had a surprise visit from a social worker this morning and-and my infant daughter.” he says as he straightens out his back and rolls his shoulders back.
“You have a child?” Cyclone asks, closing the folder that he had open to focus more on Jake. “Since when?” 
“Well, as of 9am this morning, sir. Her mother passed away after she was born and no other living relatives so… She’s currently with me. Well, not with me Captain Mitchell and Penny Benjamin are currently watching her.. sir.” 
Warlock and Cyclone share a look and Jake stands there nervously, “I know that this is short notices but all I’m asking for is a week to figure things out, find a sitter, get some kind of a routine started for-”
“Okay.” Cyclone says and Jake looks at him instead of the spot that he had been looking at on the wall. “You only want just one week?”
“I can have more, sir?” Cyclone nods, having recently become a father himself and knows how important bonding is for parents. 
“Unless something urgent comes, how does three weeks sound?” he asks as he pulls something up on his computer and begins to type.
“I would greatly appreciate that.” Jake says with a small smile and Cyclone nods, ending the conversation and Jake starts to walk out of the office.
“Seresin?” Warlock calls out and Jake turns around, “congratulations.”
“Thank you, sirs.” 
Jake drives back to the bar already feeling lighter than he had in the last 6 hours, and upon walking back into the watering hole, he sees a red faced Avery and a panicked Rooster.
“Bradshaw what did you do to my daughter?” 
“What did I do? She threw up on me!” he says, holding the infant safely, and at an arm's length away. 
The rest of the team is laughing behind him and Jake just takes Avery and lays her against him so her head is on his shoulder, “well I’m sure you deserved it.” 
Bradley glares at him before wandering away to the bathroom to clean up. Jake smiles and rubs his daughters back as she babbles in his ear.
“How did talking to the boss go?” Penny asks and Jake smiles.
“Really good, actually. Said I can have three weeks as long as nothing urgent comes up that’ll need the full team's attention.” 
“Well, if you ever need a nanny so you can have a break and none of us are available, my niece just moved to the area and is looking for work.” Penny says with a small smile as Jake moves to sit next to her. “Plus she has a degree in early childhood and special education.” 
“Okay, yeah I’ll let you know.” he says with a nod.
“Well, you can meet her tonight, she’s supposed to come and help me out here for the night since Jimmy can’t make it in.” Jake just nods and Penny pats his shoulder that Avery isn’t sleeping on while she stands to start opening duties for the bar. 
Jake didn’t end up meeting Penny’s niece that night, or any time in the following week. In fact, it wasn’t until the last week of his leave that he met her. 
Jake was holding Avery as he walked into the bar before it opened, she was babbling up a storm and he took his sunglasses off to put on the top of his head when he saw someone new behind the bar, head thrown back and laughing at something that Bob had said. 
You look over at him and he swears his heart stopped, “Hi! I’m Y/N Benjamin, but you can call me Saturn.”
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next part
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taglist: if you want to join the taglist for all my future works, shoot me a message and i'll be happy to add you :)
@mandylove1000
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sushiwriterhere · 11 months
Text
a little bit of fun
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this is my attempt at a drabble (1.8ish-k words), this is for/dedicated to/inspired by @laracrofted and @theharddeck because sometimes a threesome can be and is something so personal and healing <3 i hope you enjoy!! i have nothing else to say for myself lmao - minors DNI! warnings: threesome (mmf, and the boys do kiss hehe), dp (PiV, unprotected) + ass play (oops lol), spanking, dacryphilia a bit, pining if you squint tagging?? @sebsxphia @sometimesanalice @waklman @joaquinwhorres @gretagerwigsmuse @lewmagoo @genius2050 @seresinsweetie
You're midway through taking your first sip of the perfect ice cold beer when a deep voice behind you intones, "We saw you from across the bar, we liked your vibe."
Turning around slowly, you turn a very unimpressed gaze upon Jake and Javy, both of whom are sporting shit eating grins. They're clearly amused with themselves.
"What is this gay lovers bit you guys are doing?" You raise an eyebrow at the pair, nodding your head at where Javy has an arm draped across Jake's shoulders. "And why do you think it's going to work?"
If you're honest, the two of them are a sight to behold. They both somehow glow under the artificial lighting of the Hard Deck, and their uniforms are too form-fitting to not be tailored, despite you knowing they're not. Truly, it's unfair how attractive the both of them are.
"It's worked before, sweetheart," Jake's smile is sharklike, but there's little real bite behind it. It's Javy you've got to keep an eye on.
"Thought we might try again." Javy lets his eyes scan your body lazily, not even bothering to hide the way his gaze fixates on the way your thighs press against the barstool and the way your tits strain against the sundress you'd thrown on.
"Well, you're shit outta luck. Not looking to get disappointed one more time today." You make to turn the barstool around, but then Jake's crowding you against the bar.
He's so fucking warm and solid against you, you almost don't know what to do. But you push weakly against his chest and try to make a help expression at Javy over his shoulder. He just shakes his head.
"Disappointed? Baby, if I remember correctly you were–"
You don't let him finish because you slap a hand over his mouth and exclaim, "Okay! None of that please. I'll get Penny to ring the bell if you finish that sentence."
Behind Jake, Javy just smiles warmly at you and his expression melts into something that sends a lightning bolt of arousal through you, "Just one drink?"
"Fine. One."
-
"Thought you said, uh, you didn't want to do this again," Jake's voice is strained with the way he's holding himself back from thrusting up into you. "Fuck, you're tight."
All you can do is moan in response as you drop your forehead to rest on his shoulder. Every single one of your nerves feels like it's on fire and you think you might be running a fever. Stradling Jake's hips and sandwiched between the two men, with Jake's cock already buried inside of you and Javy steadily sliding into you, your mind is swimming with arousal.
"Nah, our girl loves a little hate fuck." Javy emphasizes his last word with a little thrust, one that jostles both you and Jake up the bed just slightly.
Despite the copious amounts of prep and what feels like a good third of the bottle of lube Jake keeps in his bedside table (which he vehemently denies he bought just for when this keeps happening), you still feel the slight stretch as Javy inches inside you alongside Jake. You're panting and whining; you can't even bring yourself to care about the fact that you're supposed to not want this. The two of them are relentless, Javy behind you, Jake under you.
"Shit, shit, fuck!" You gasp out as Javy finally bottoms out. "Both of you aren't supposed to have huge dicks," You pause to let out a whine as Jake rocks his hips up just slightly, "That's against the laws of nature or something."
"The fact that you're talking so much means we're doing something wrong," Javy laughs lightly and smacks your ass in a way that makes you jolt.
"Shit, Javy, you gotta warn me before you do that." Jake attempts levity but you can hear the way he's fighting the urge to throw caution and coordination to the wind, press his feet into the mattress, and fuck you with abandon.
Javy doesn't respond, instead he makes his point by using one of his huge hands to grab your hip and the other to grab you by the ribs and dragging you back against his hips and down onto both his and Jake's cocks. A surprised groan leaves Jake and you squeal.
You bite Jake's neck to try and muffle the moans that are bursting from your chest at the way Javy's hands feel on you, the way Jake keeps petting your sides but also pinching your nipples. He usually complains the morning after, but never in the moment.
It would surprise most people, you think, the way the two operate in bed. Javy's usually confident in that quiet way that lets you know he's competent, whereas Jake is all ego. Every time you've found yourself in this exact position though, or some form of it, it's Javy who's in charge.
You're digging your nails into Jake's shoulders and trying to breathe through the onslaught of sensations as Javy sets a brutal pace, your forehead buried in Jake's neck. He throws his head back and pushes his hips up just as Javy pulls out and the way the two slide past each other instead of with each other might haunt you for the rest of your life.
When Javy puts a hand on the back of your neck for leverage, you know you can't hold on to your ploy any longer. You lose yourself in the way your bodies move in tandem, the way Jake moans and pants are right by your ear. Javy spanks you again and you feel the tears on your cheeks before you register that you're crying at all.
Then Javy's lips are up against your ear, "Fuck, look at you, taking our cocks so well. You're so fucking perfect, made for this, made to be stretched out and fucked."
Jake groans when Javy's lips brush his over your shoulder and then he's babbling too, "Shit, Javy, I can feel her squeezing us. Baby, I can't believe you pretend you don't love this."
You think you might be trying to defend yourself, might be trying to tell them that it makes it fun when everyone involved knows that this is how you'll end up anyway, but you can't form words. All your attention is on the way the curls at the base of Jake's cock are rubbing on your clit, the way one of Javy's hands has sneaked around to the nipple he's learned is more sensitive than the other. You think you might be drooling as you moan mindlessly.
Then, the moment of light tenderness is over when Javy leans back slightly and chuckles darkly before saying, "Jake, watch this."
His free hand grabs your ass and spreads you open. Then he spits. You moan at the sensation of the coolness against you, til he gently prods at you with his thumb and you choke off the sound. You jerk away from the sensation involuntarily, a little too fucked out to control your body, a little too turned on to do anything but gasp out a desperate please.
"Fuck, Javy, do it again, she loves it." Jake lifts your face away from his neck so he can look into your eyes, so he can see the way they flutter at the sensation of being so goddamn full.
You can only imagine what you look like–sweat plastering your hair to your forehead and neck, eyes slightly red from crying, lips bitten to hell. He keeps eye contact as Javy repeats his actions and your eyes roll back. Your eyes are closed when his hand slides from your face to your neck and just holds you there.
The moan you let out when Javy moves his hand from the back of your neck to trail feather-light down your back is animalistic, it tears itself out of your chest as you feel yourself cry again. Jake tries to keep an even pace with the rhythm of Javy's hips, but you can feel the way they're starting to lose pace, clearly both close.
Then Javy starts talking. It's always the same when you're all so fucked out, the barriers come down.
"Such a good fucking girl, you should see the way you're stretched around us, good god, never going to let you go. Should keep you here so we can do this every day, fuck you full of us, sweet, sweet girl." His voice has lost its hard edge, but he keeps the tip of his finger in your ass, his other hand on your lower back.
"Fuck, you're so good to us. You look so good like this, bent over for me, I bet Jake loves the way your tits feel. You're so fucking incredible."
Jake somehow finds it in himself to speak up too, "Come for us, c'mon baby, let go, wanna feel you come around us so fucking bad. Let go, come for us."
They've never failed to talk you through it. It makes your heart clench in your chest in a way that it shouldn't when you're split open on their cocks, when your eyes are too glazed over to really see the expression on Jake's face where he's now holding your face firmly in one of his hands.
They hold you when you finally fall apart, barely faltering. Jake keeps chanting something about your tight fucking cunt and Javy pets your back and calls you our best girl.
Jake finishes next with a grunt that breaks off into a moan as he shoves his hips up hard into you, and you shudder from oversensitivity. When Javy comes it's sloppy, like it always is, his cum adding to the warmth of Jake already inside you. Everyone's oversensitive but Javy keeps the three of you rocking together til you come to and whine and smack Jake in the chest, til you brace yourself on him so you can reach back and try to hit Javy too.
"There you are..." He murmurs as he pulls out and you almost collapse from the way you know his eyes are hyper focused on the mixture of his and Jake's cum leaking out of you.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer," You grind out as you roll off Jake and throw an arm over your eyes, remembering that you're supposed to hate them, but also bone tired.
Jake's arms are still around you and your legs are draped on Javy's thighs, his hands now petting your calves and thighs. It's strangely domestic and soothing despite the way you ache and you know you'll need them to hold you for the next hour. They always do it more than enthusiastically, working as well together to take care of you afterwards as they do a team in the air.
In that moment though, Javy's smile is devilish when you peek at him and you know Jake is wearing a matching expression, "Why? You offering?"
"Oh, fuck you."
"Already did, baby, already did."
read the companion fic - “it’s not rotten work (not if it’s you)”
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honkytonk-hangman · 3 months
Text
When Jake Met Polly
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
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Summary: Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.
Warnings: Not much, fluff, flirting and refs to sex.
Note: This is just a short little idea i've had for agesss... reader has a 'name' but it's just her callsign, Polly, as in, short for Polaris. Ty to @hangmanssunnies i wuv u <3
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“Hangman to Tower, I am coming in hot.”
You roll your eyes at the all too familiar voice that crackles through your radio, a smile pulling at your lips as you adjust your microphone and briefly throw a glance over your shoulder, just to make sure your commanding officer wasn’t lingering.
“Tower to Hangman. We are appalled at the gross lack of radio etiquette on display,” you respond. Barely a few seconds pass before you receive a reply.
“Come on, Polly, we've been working together for over a year now, what’s a little informality between colleagues?” Hangman says, and despite his jet only being a blip on your horizon still, you know he’s grinning.
“A commercial airline, Lieutenant.” You deadpan, your own smile growing as his laughter comes down the line. “You are cleared for landing, proceed to runway B,” you continue, not wanting him to have to ask again seeing as his approach was cutting it close already.
“Polly, have I ever told you that you’re my favourite Controller?” He asks as you watch him enter the pattern, and click your pen.
“Only every day we work together, Lieutenant.” There’s a beat of quiet as he expertly manoeuvres his jet toward the correct runway.
“And how sexy your voice is?” He goes on, sounding vaguely distracted.
“Once again, Lieutenant, this is not a commercial airline.” You respond, twirling your hair around your finger at his compliment anyway.
He doesn’t reply, and a shock of horror flickers through you as you watch the jet touch down once, something happening with his landing gear that makes the jet shudder, then seem to bounce momentarily before it drops back onto the tarmac and skids to a stop.
“Hangman, do you require the emergency crew?!” You ask quickly, eyes scanning the aircraft as it powers down fully. You wait tensely as the canopy pops up, and a broad figure jumps out, scrambling down the ladder, and once on the ground, he bends low to get a look at the problem.
“No, Polly, thank you. Seems the landing gear malfunctioned, must’ve been in a position to sustain damage once I landed…” his voice trails off, and you watch him straighten, and greet the ground crew who’d raced over to help.
“Glad you’re safe, Lieutenant. Tower out.” You say as he begins discussing with the crew, but briefly turns up toward the tower and raises a hand.
You let out a sigh of relief and settle back in your seat.
Around lunch time you make your way down to the tarmac. Hangman’s jet had been cleared off some time ago, and by now you know reports would have been filed, including your own, and his aircraft will have been taken in for inspection and repairs. You’re milling around the ‘crash’ site, inspecting the scrape marks left behind when you hear footsteps from behind approaching you.
“Can I help you ma’am?”
You know his voice immediately, but you know his face too, and when you at last turn back to him you’re graced by the sight of it, bright and unworried, despite the accident he’d had earlier.
“Oh, don’t mind me! I just watched someone bounce their jet off my tarmac earlier, just checking for potholes,” you tell him wrly. It takes a moment, but his face flashes with recognition and soon he’s taking a step towards you.
“Polly?!” Hangman asks, sounding surprised. You hum in response, then round on him.
“Where is it that you found your qualifications, Liuetenant? We should probably return them,” you tease him. Hangman only takes up a stance and stretches his arms out, his flight suit stretching desperately around his biceps as he does.
“Oh, Polly, if I’d known that was all it took to get you down here, I’d have started chipping bits off months ago,” he flirts shamelessly. You smile at him but don’t speak and after a moment, he drops his arms again, crossing them over his chest instead and blinking at you curiously. “What?” he asks.
Your smile grows, and you shake your head at him.
“Your terrible lines work better when I can see you, that's all,” you inform him, making him uncross his arms and laugh.
“I would say that’s generally the case, even if a guy ain’t me,” he replies coolly. You only shake your head again, and look back out at the expanse of tarmac ahead of you.
“Thanks to you getting your pilots lisence off the back of a cereal box, we’ve ruined our Sleepless in Seattle thing,” you say with a forlorn sigh.
When you look back at Hangman he’s frowning at you in confusion.
“Our what?” he asks. You roll your eyes and turn to face him fully at last, waving your hand as you speak.
“You know, our Sleepless in Seattle thing. We talk all this time, but never meet, and if we cross paths, we don’t realise it? It’s ruined now,” you accuse him lightly. Hangman hums, and seems to think for a moment.
“I get to be Meg Ryan in this situation, right?” he says, making you chortle.
“Well you’d have to be. No way I’d leave 90s Bill Pullman!”
“Well, what if we’re not Sleepless in Seattle? What if we’re more… When Harry Met Sally?” he suggests. You squint at him.
“Have you seen that film? I’m not sure that’s the implication you want to go for…” you ask him, making him falter for a moment.
“That’s the one with the emails right?” he responds unsurely. You laugh again, and shake your head.
“No, that’s You’ve Got Mail.”
“What the hell did I just suggest, then?” 
You stare at him for a moment, and can’t stop yourself from grinning up at him.
“More or less not speaking for like ten years, but on the rare occasion we do meet up, we argue,” you tell him, watching him frown even deeper, and shake his own head this time.
“That would be kinda hard, considering you’re the voice in my head,” he says.
“Oh, so we’re doing Her now!”
Hangman fixes you with a deadpan expression and a slightly smirk.
“I don’t even want to know.”
You laugh at him, and begin walking, unsurprised when he immediately joins you, falling into step at your side. “So,” he begins again after a moment, peering down at you. “Despite playing hacky sack on your tarmac, you still gonna let me take you out?”
You falter briefly, but keep walking, this time glancing up at him.
“I didn’t think you were being serious all those times you asked me out,” you don’t bother hiding your surprise. Hangman looks back at you, squinting, and cocks his head.
“At this point I think you’ve shot me down more than Dagger combined, why would I not be serious?” he asks you, sounding oddly serious. You chuckle.
“Right, so, say if, I don’t know, Rooster got a few more hits on you, you wouldn’t leave me hangin’ would you?” you know you’ll say yes, but you can’t help but tease him a little longer.
Hangman raises an eyebrow at you and grins wide and beautiful.
“You? Never,” he says. “Mostly because I’m legally obligated to respond when you speak to me.”
You lift your own eyebrow and fix him with a wry smile.
“I like that in a man.”
Hangman laughs.
“I mean it, your voice is sexy,” Jake tells you once he’s sat back down from replacing your drinks. You can’t help but chortle and stir your cocktail with the straw.
“Really? Me telling you to line up and wait in the pattern gets you going?” you ask. Jake grins, but nods very seriously as he takes a short sip of his beer.
“Absolutely. I also like when you tell me about the weather and conditions, and direct me to land.”
Leaning forward with your elbows on the table between you, you put your chin in your hands.
“I liek when you flirt with me,” you begin, waiting for him to smirk at you before continuing on. “And you don’t realise my boss is in the room, so I just have to respond ‘roger’ and ‘acknowledged’ whenever you say something stupid,” you finish. Jake rolls his eyes and leans forward to meet you.
“To be fair, I’d probably be saying something stupid anyway,” he tells you.
You have to let out a laugh at that and finally lean back again.
“Oh yeah, that reminds me, are you ever gonna tell us all how to ‘bury a fossil’? You know, those things that you famously dig up and do not bury?” you tease, earning another eyeroll. Jake shrugs and copies your movements.
“I foretold Mav’s career comeback, didn’t I?”
You laugh again, but this time, get a good look at him sitting casually across from you, out of uniform and seemingly more relaxed than you’ve ever seen, or heard.
“I like your voice too,” you tell him at last, smiling a little at how he seems to preen at your praise. “Your accent is more pronounced face-to-face though, and you don’t sound like you’re performing all the time.”
Jake takes a sip of his beer and shrugs again.
“Can’t be Hangman all the time,” he says. You make a face.
“I like Hangman. He entertains me at work… but I think I like the guy who hasn’t seen When Harry Met Sally, and has a Fisher-Price pilot's lisence even more.”
Jake laughs and nods at you.
“Splash one,” he says before he leans in to you again. “Toddler’s generally have pretty good taste, in my opinion, they’re all about shapes and colours and boobs… can’t fault ‘em!”
You have to laugh and concede that at least, the two of you clinking drinks before you continue to flirt and chat for the rest of the evening.
When Jake drops you back at yours, you invite him inside, under the guise of lending him your DVD copy of When Harry Met Sally, but when he simply lingers in your living room, you start to consider other tactics.
“Jake?” you say, standing up from ‘searching’ your stack of DVD’s and facing him. “This is the part where you save me from admitting I don’t really own a physical copy of the film by having sex with me,” you inform him dutifully, watching as he straightens up and blinks at you. Then, he’s shaking his head, smiling, and taking a step closer toward you.
“I guess every good rom-com does have an earth shattering lie at its core, doesn’t it?” he steps closer, and this time, anchors his hands at your waist, tugging you into him a little more.
“Let's skip the conflict part and go straight to the happy ending, shall we?”
1K notes · View notes
moonlight-prose · 7 months
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✧ LOOKING AT ME ✧
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a/n: my first ever solo jake fic! it's been a long time coming and what a better way to drop it than during kinktober. he'd be honored honestly for such a debut. this fic goes out to the anon who asked if i'd be writing for jake this year. i hope you especially enjoy it babes.
day four - cockwarming + dirty talk | kinktober 2023
summary: "perhaps it wasn’t the best idea. but you never said you were smart when it came to jake seresin."
word count: 1.2k+
pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, mean!jake, dom!jake, cockwarming, edging, a lot of jealousy, cumplay but not really, biting, dirty talk.
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“What was that honey?” Jake’s voice echoed smoothly in your ear, but you barely heard them. The deep husk of his tone sent you reeling as his hands slid down your torso—pressing against your hot skin. “Did you say something?”
You keened, gasping for breath as he toyed with your nipples, delighting in how they hardened against the rough pads of his thumbs. For an hour you had been perched on his lap completely naked and pressed against his clothed body. Except he was buried deep inside you—keeping you still as you cockwarmed him. Although you were pretty sure this was more about driving you to the brink of insanity.
“Could have sworn you said…” His fingers dropped down, tapping lightly against your throbbing clit. You cried out, your hand latching onto his wrist in an attempt to keep him there. “Sorry.”
It wasn’t your idea to go out dancing. In fact it was Phoenix who had brought up the suggestion to the rest of the Dagger Squad. You joined thinking it would be a night to remember—some fun to counteract the stress of the week. But things hadn’t gone according to plan. In fact you were pretty sure things would have been better if you had stayed home altogether.
Thirty minutes in Jake’s mood turned sour for some reason or another, and he seemed intent on souring yours as well. Except instead of joining him in his melancholy, you decided to push his buttons further. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea. But you never said you were smart when it came to Jake Seresin. Shit, you weren’t even prepared to suffer the consequences of what your actions would ensue.
Another twenty minutes passed and you found yourself drunk, on the dance floor, and with someone who wasn’t Jake. He was nice enough. Certainly not there to hit on you, but more so there to enjoy the music and nightlife. Facts that apparently hadn’t crossed Jake’s mind.
It took him five minutes to grab you, call a cab, and whisper your punishment in your ear on the way home—his hands never leaving your body, even as you practically sat in his lap.
“What did you think would happen?” His lips dragged along your shoulder. “You think you could find someone else?”
You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes as he thrusted up into your dripping pussy. There was no doubt that you had made a mess in his lap. With the way he’d been edging you—dragging you right to the edge, but pulling away the second you tipped over. His arms locked you down, keeping your hips from wriggling even as he dragged you towards yet another lost release.
“J-Jake—”
His teeth clamped onto your neck, silencing you quickly as a throaty moan ripped from your chest. “Tell me…” He tugged on your nipple, feeling you shudder in his hold. “Did you think he was handsome?”
That’s what this was about.
Whether he liked to admit it or not Jake didn’t like when something infringed on what he had. He didn’t like that you went to find another person to spend your night with. It didn’t matter that you saw it as perfectly innocent. To him…you were choosing someone else. For as much as he acted cocky and self assured, Jake was quite the opposite. Unable to see past his own fears.
“N-No,” you choked out, digging your nails into his forearms. “Please…fuck, fuck—”
He grinded up into you, striking perfectly and causing your eyes to roll back in your head. “No, of course not.” His fingers slid through your slick, spreading around his cock that filled you. “He couldn’t fill you like this huh? Couldn’t make you drip like this?”
You shook your head, teeth digging into your bottom lip. Except that wasn’t enough for him—it would never be enough to appease the flare of jealousy that stuck to his chest. He gripped your throat, pushing your head back—his lips pressing against your ear.
“Use your words honey.”
“No!” You sobbed, legs trembling as he thrusted up into you again. “H-He’s not you.”
He grinned. “You’re damn right he isn’t.”
“L-Love you.”
Gripping your hips, he rolled them down, the wet squelch of your slick echoing in the room. “Yeah? You love me?”
You nodded, your mouth dropping open. You could feel it. The burning sensation growing with each shift of your hips. Only this time it was stronger than before; nearly melting you from the inside out. For a brief moment you wondered if you would survive this—if Jake had pushed your body to a limit neither of you knew existed. But you found yourself hurtling towards it faster than you could comprehend it.
“Can feel you squeezing me,” he grunted, shoving his hips up. “You gonna soak me? Make a mess of this couch?”
A garbled echo of what you assumed to be yes tore from your throat. Or at least that’s what both of you guessed it to be. Your nails scratched down his arms with earnest, chest heaving with each stunted thrust into your pussy, and that’s when you heard it. The soft press of his words against your throat. The words he’d been wanting to say all night.
“Was gonna ask you to move in,” he gasped, teeth scraping along your throat. “‘S why I didn’t want to go—fuck you feel like heaven.”
Your heart fluttered, heat spilling through your body and consuming you completely. Until you could no longer tell up from down—your mind a jumble of I love you and yes please. But you couldn’t get any of the words out. They were stuck in your throat. Coherency being traded in for utter bliss.
“Want to feel you—” His fingers slid to your clit, swirling fast circled to shove you off completely. “I’ll give it to ya.” His teeth scraped your ear, breath hot against your cheek. “Gonna cum so deep I’ll drip outta ya all night.”
You broke with a scream, your body completely lost to your own control. He held you close, latching his teeth onto your shoulder and following you with a pained cry—his cock filling you so full you swore you felt some leak into his lap. Except you could barely even focus on your own name. Jake had fucked all the sense out of your head, leaving you with nothing but thoughts of him.
For you a few minutes that’s where you remained. Spread out on his lap as he kissed every part of your skin he could reach; his palms cupping the weight of your breasts, thumbing gently at your nipples. He let you remain that way. Content in his arms until you slowly began to feel his promise come to light. The sticky warmth of his cum began to pool at the base of his cock, sending sparks up your spine.
“Yes,” you breathed, turning your head to catch his lips in a soft kiss. A complete difference to how he fucked you before. “I’ll move in with you.”
He grinned, his nose dragging along your cheek. “Even with my bummer attitude?”
You snorted, pulled away and laughed when he nipped at your jaw. “I never said that. But yes. Even with that.”
“Hm,” he sighed, his chin making a home on your shoulder. “Love you honey.”
“I love you too Jake.”
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waklman · 1 year
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Fake it
Chapter One: Kiss me
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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, brief mention of vomit, sexual innuendo/joking, jake and reader are both 20. this blog is 18+
word count: 4.2k
college au, fake dating trope, roommate trope
next chapter | fake it masterlist.
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Jake Seresin doesn’t get nervous. In fact, he can’t even grasp the concept. 
He was the kind of guy who flirted with the nearly divorced waitresses at diners while their husbands waited on them. Sure, those men looked like they wanted to rip his head clean off his shoulders, but Jake didn’t care—he just plucked the free milkshake he scored for you from their hands, with a smile on his face. Jake Seresin doesn’t get nervous.
But for some reason, as he stands outside your bedroom door—Jake’s starting to understand that apprehensive feeling you complain about so much. Right now, Jake Seresin is getting nervous. He’s even sweating a bit. 
Jake knocks on the door, lightly, just enough to stir you. “Princess?” There’s no answer from the other side, not a creaking of the bed, not a groan, nothing.
He clears his throat. “You busy? Can I come in?” It’s like Jake’s outside his parent’s bedroom again, unsure if they’re awake for his incoming request—with vomit dribbling down his chin and smeared across the front of his fire truck pajamas. 
“No. I’m busy flicking the bean in here,” your sarcastic reply is muffled by your thick comforter, but Jake catches it.
It’s quiet for a minute, prompting you to pop your head out from under the sheets. You stare at the closed door, confused by his silence. 
“I…Are you actually?” 
“What? No Jake! I…I wouldn’t do that when you’re home,” you mumble that last part to yourself.
Jake lets himself in at the confirmation, swinging the door open with a shrug. “That’s a bummer, cause I do when you’re around.” 
“I—That better be a joke,” you scoff, scooting over in bed, ignoring the heat blooming on your face. 
Jake throws himself onto the space you made for him, extracting a pillow from under your leg to cushion his head. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head. I haven’t gotten the chance to, since we just moved in,” he turns to you in bed with a shameless grin plastered on his face. 
You only flip on your side in response—forcing him to look at the back of your head. “You’re dirty,” you comment, pursing your lips. 
“Not your type? Cause you like those nerdy vanilla guys—ain’t that right,” Jake drawls, poking your spine.
You move further away from him, but he only chases right after you, shrinking the gap between you two. “They’re nice to me,” you defend yourself.
“I’m nice to you,” he challenges. Jake wonders if that stirred you. It was easy to get you flustered—and so, he took every chance to tease you. That was a harmless habit he could never grow out of.
You pause, searching for a way to flip it on him. But you draw a blank, there’s only so much you can come up with. 
“Sure,” you drag out the word.
There’s only a brief moment of silence, after your dismissive comment—but it's long enough for your eyes lids to grow heavy again. 
Jake puffs out a short laugh, seeing how stiff you are already.
Though you ardently denied any mention of it, you were always the first kid at daycare who waddled towards the line of tiny cots once naptime was announced, entirely ready to hit the sack. And obviously, Jake shoved the other kids out of the way to claim the cot next to yours. It was no question who his best friend was. 
He presses the side of his face deeper into your pillow, taking in the warmth provided by your sheets.
“Why is your bed always comfier than mine,” he sighs, rubbing a calloused hand against your back, creasing your sleep shirt into small folds. 
Maybe you won’t get mad at him for his next question if you’re barely conscious, he convinces himself. You shrug, too tranquilized by his soft strokes to remind him that you two bought the same mattress this time. 
Jake takes his time, building up courage while he runs his hand between your shoulder blades contemplatively. 
Worried that you’re about to finally drift off—Jake bites the bullet, blurting out his question. 
“Would you date me?” 
It’s like the world comes to a screeching halt. Jake didn't say that, you’re imagining things. This isn’t happening.  
Assuming you didn’t hear him, Jake decides to repeat himself. “Would you date m—”
Your body jerks at the recurring question, forcing Jake to recoil as well. This must be a dream. You’re stuck in some awfully realistic dream. A sick dream where your best friend is asking you out.
Panic shoots through his veins, seeing you start to slip off the side of the bed in your frenzy. In an instant, Jake pulls you towards him, grabbing you by the forearm—before you could fall onto the wooden floor with a thud. 
Once your back hits his chest, you scramble to sit up, pulling away from him. 
Jake’s already sat up once you are, palm pressed against his racing heart. “Shit—you scared me! Don’t do that—Fuck,” he scolds, trying to catch his breath. 
Your fingers scrunch the bedsheets under you, flustered. “I scared you? You scared me! What kind of question is that?” you ramble, voice pitched in embarrassment. 
Instead of arguing back, Jake’s mouth stretches into an amused smirk. His wet tongue swipes over his lips, making them glisten against the sun shining through your shutters. “You didn’t say no,” he points out, eyeing you up and down.
You pause, blinking at him incessantly. 
“If—If you wanted me to just wake up, you shouldn’t have rubbed my back. You know that tips me over!” You deflect in a shout, crossing your arms against your chest. 
“Hey, don’t shut me out,” he teases, tugging once at your arms, getting you to drop them into your lap. Great. He actually paid attention to the body language chapter in psychology 1001. 
“Don’t joke like that Jacob. It’s not funny,” you look off to the side, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling brewing in your stomach.
You knew he wasn’t being serious. It was obvious to everyone that he was still hung up on his ex-girlfriend, Kendall Anderson. But who could blame him? The whole campus knew who she was, even professors that she didn’t even take knew who Kendall was. Other schools in the area knew of her for crying out loud. An unforgettable face, friends that could last her a lifetime, and an effortless air about her—of course Jake can’t let her go. She might as well be factory made to fit his type to a tea.
And even if he wasn’t over her, Jake would never ask you that question, and mean it—like truly mean it. You’ve seen him brush off others extensively, when they joked about him having a crush on you.
And if you were being honest, it stung, just a bit. You had always been too deep in your own head about someone like Jake Seresin being your best friend in the first place. You didn’t need any kind of awful reminder that someone in his radar couldn’t even consider dating you. 
Jake's suddenly hit with guilt, picking up on your fallen expression. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Princess,” he apologizes.
You still won’t look at him, making Jake feel worse. “I won’t joke like that again,” he promises you, lifting himself to sit closer to you, knees brushing up against yours. 
“It’s not funny, and I won’t do it again. That was a dick move,” he confirms intently. 
“Yeah, it was,” you whisper, chewing on your bottom lip.
“I was a dick,” he professes. 
You nod, wordlessly forgiving him. “You were a dick,” you repeat after him. 
After a brief pause, you bravely turn your cheek to face him again, brows puckered together. “..Honestly though, why did you ask me that?” Jake’s never been the type to say anything to muddle your friendship, not if there’s a reason behind it. 
He swipes a hand over his mouth, remembering why he came into your room in the first place. “Kendall,” he pauses. “She has a new boyfriend.”
You grimace at the news.
Their breakup was so fresh, how did she find someone new already? Unless, it’s not someone new at all. “..Is it that older guy she met over the summer? What’s his face…Austin?” You’re shooting in the dark at this point, trying to dig for more information. 
Jake groans, you hit the nail right on the head. “Yeah, fuck that asshole.” 
The only information you knew about the asshole Jake’s referring to is what he’s chosen to disclose to you. And from what you heard, Jake wasn’t his biggest fan. 
Without a thought, you blindly agree with him, arms crossing against your chest again. “Fuck him, Fuck him so hard,” you attempt to disrespect the stranger, but it’s starting to sound awkward coming from you. “…He’s probably not that cute. Well not that I would know but—“ Jake cuts you off, laughing at the lineup of curse words flying out your mouth.
“Love it when you fucking curse, sound just like me,” he ruffles your hair, making you giggle underneath him.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” you entertain him with disheveled hair, pulling out another laugh from him. 
But the moment dies fast—faster than the spotted hamster you both tried to co-parent in fifth grade. “But, anyway,” Jake speaks again. As he’s saying that, Jake softly brushes the hair out your face, thumb swiping over the baby hairs by your ear for good measure, before finally withdrawing his hand from you.
“I hate that I still like her,” he admits, with a sad smile, arms limp in his lap.  
You bite down on your lip at his gutted confession. 
Keeping a straight face, you try to console him. “So? it was your longest relationship. It’d be weird if you didn’t like her still.”
Despite your aversion to his on and off relationship, you didn't want to step on Jake’s feelings, it’s a force of habit.
“Would it be bad if we just, if we...pretended to date? She’s always been jealous of you.” Jake finally puts forth, biting down on his own tongue afterwards. The apprehension he felt from earlier slowly makes it way back into his chest again.
Bradley warned him against this, this won’t end well for either of you, he told the blond with a grunt. The frat boy—although not the brightest was able to detect the complication in Jake’s plan. But, Jake swatted off Bradley’s pointed complaints to no end. It was like he lost the ability to think straight, with Kendall in mind. There was some sort of invisible stopper that made him blind to the swarm of problems that came with this.
You blink once, after piecing it together in your head. “You want me to help you get her back?” 
“Kinda, yeah. I do.” 
Everything tells you this is wrong, that you should say no. That this isn’t the right thing to do. That Bradley’s going to kill you, kill Jake, kill you both. That this scheme didn’t bode well in the movies you watched. And despite it all, you answer, “I’ll do it.” 
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“No you fucking didn’t.” Bradley roars, earning a few stares from your classmates. “Tell me you’re just fucking with me,” he says more quietly, though his definition of quiet is in a form of another harsh shout. 
If your guilty eyes weren't a confirmation in itself, your refusal to give him a clear answer was. Bradley shakes his head disapprovingly as he forcefully massages his temple, trying to relieve an oncoming headache. 
“Would you—tone it down,” you beg, trying to cover your face from the dirty stares you’re receiving from all corners of the lecture room.
You slump in your seat, with a hand shielding the side of your face. “Didn’t Jake already tell you,” you whisper to Bradley through the corner of your mouth, pretending you don’t know him. 
You would assume that Jake has caught him up on the details by now. After all, Bradley Bradshaw was more of Jake’s friend than yours—he was a current member of Jake’s old fraternity. It was just your luck that he signed up for the same class as you, and couldn’t stand anyone else in the room. 
“We can't be seen together right now,” he grumbles, looking around with harsh eyes, scanning the room for anyone in his fraternity. He manages to scare a girl in the process, making her move away from you both. He clicks his tongue at her, annoyed. 
“What? Are you two Romeo and Juliet or something? What do you mean you can’t be seen together?” 
“Prez is still pissed at him for dropping out of the house. I'm working on it,” Bradley adds, jaw clenched. He’s never been berated by a guy shorter than him in his life. Bradley’s large foot begins to tap against the carpeted floor, irritated by the playback happening in his head. 
You sigh, pulling back your legs, allowing a student trying to move through your row, more space to get by. “You know he’s just a president of a frat house, not some dictator.”
“He might as fucking well be, Javy’s got a stick up his—Bob? Where the fuck are you going?” Bradley stops the student, slapping a rough hand against his chest, making him groan.
“Sit with us,” he points his chin towards the seat next to him. Just like that, Bradley’s already dismissing him, expecting him to sit down at his assertion.
You carefully look on as the guy hesitatingly opens his mouth, just to shut it again. There’s a pair of thinly wired glasses framing his face and his eyes just briefly brush over you. He blinks at you once, then twice—until you shyly offer him an apologetic smile in return.
Seeing that he can’t ignore his fellow housemate, Bob gives into Bradley’s demand, with a nod. “I was—yeah I was gonna sit there anyway,” he assures Bradley.
After a lazy introduction, you learn that Bob had just joined the frat last year. He didn’t look like the type, which took you a second to digest. Everyone in that house looked—to put it nicely—they looked like they belonged there. But Bob? You could barely picture him standing alongside those kind of guys. Bob looked nice.
With an acknowledging look shared between you and Bob that Bradley has trapped you both here, the conversation from earlier continues. 
“Jake? As in Jake Seresin?” Bob asks, pushing the silver frames up his nose. 
“Did I not just say that? Keep up,” Bradley remarks, stretching his legs out, kicking the seat in front of him in the process. 
“Yeah, he’s my—well my fake boyfriend now I guess?” You explain to Bob with a shrug, brushing over Bradley’s comment.
Bradley swipes his tongue over his front teeth. “I thought he was an idiot for this whole idea, but here you are, saying yes to it. You two belong together.” In times like these, you like to reassure yourself, putting a pin on the fact that honesty from Bradley was a good thing. 
He wasn’t the type to share his thoughts with others, he spoke with intention—for the most part. It came as a surprise to you, that he even found a liking towards you to begin with. So, him telling you his true thoughts, meant that he was just looking out for you. Well, that's what you hoped.
“Isn’t that—um. Sorry if this is rude but, isn't that weird for you?” Bob questions, leaning over Bradley. 
Bradley’s nose flares, before deciding to lean back further so Bob could stretch himself over his lap to hear you better. 
“I don’t think so—I mean…we’ve been friends for our whole lives. There’s nothing there. Not weird at all," you confirm.
Bradley raises his brow. “Yeah, you definitely didn’t believe that lie either,” he scoffs, pressing his tongue flat against his left cheek. 
Again, you ignore his comment.
Bob nods. “I hope things work out for you then,” he kindly smiles at you, ignoring Bradley’s judgmental glare drilling into the side of his head. 
You wished Bob’s genuine encouragement would bring you relief, but it weirdly doesn't. Even if it wasn’t his intention, the statement serves more as an ominous warning. “Thanks, I appreciate it,” that part you meant though.
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All the effort you put towards organizing your closet comes undone, as Jake unrolls every piece of clothing you spent hours folding in search for something. “Where’s that one shirt of yours,” he mumbles to himself, deciding to pull open your storage baskets next. 
“What’s wrong with the one I'm wearing!” You complain, throwing yourself back into your mattress, praying you even packed the top he’s looking for. 
Jake blows air through his nose, giving himself a push to keep digging through your stuff. “Princess, I love you but—you gotta out-do her, have you seen the shit she usually wears?” 
Right as you returned from class, Jake jumped you at the front door, demanding that you two needed to head down to the campus store. He recalled from previous years that Kendall made it a tradition to keep up with the school merchandise, buying all the new school pride crap on the first day of classes. Which only meant you both had to be there too. 
“Oh. Fuck. Okay, that’s your underwear,” he narrates, ears pink at the dusty lace greeting him. 
“I—Move,” you fly off the bed, pushing past him. The havoc that is your closet makes you want to fall over and die. Die right there, right on the ground, and maybe be buried under the piles of fabric scattered across the floor. Maybe then, he’ll feel bad for what he did to you.  
“My closet..” you mumble to yourself with droopy shoulders, taking in its disheveled state. 
Jake’s so set on finding the article of clothing, he overlooks the mess he made. “Your closet,” he mocks you flatly. “Doesn’t have that tiny white shirt I’m looking for,” he complains, scrunching his nose.
Right as he says that, you spin on your heels, facing him with a tight jaw. Jake almost jumps out his own skin from how abruptly you turned around. 
“I have on. the white shirt,” you point out, through clenched teeth, plucking at the fabric clung to your chest—letting it snap back against you.
His eyes flick down to your top, with an empty look.
You’re right.
But it’s too late for him to confess his wrongdoings, Jake's in too deep. “No you don’t," he tuts.
“Oh yeah?” You don’t think before digging your hands into the lightly lined bra you’re wearing—adjusting the way it cupped your chest.
Jake is attentive to the fact that he should be looking away, but he can’t seem to move. His feet are locked in place and his head is unable to turn the other direction. All he can do is hold his breath, while you press your boobs together to fix your cleavage. As if holding his breath meant that he could stop the flow of unsolicited thoughts from leaking into his stream of consciousness. 
Finally realizing what you did out of frustration, you clear your throat, making it seem as though this was normal in your friendship. “How—how about now. Look familiar?” You bite your lip, waiting for an answer.
“Yeah, that’s—that’s the shirt,” he nods, playing along with your unbothered act himself. Trying to pretend like he didn’t just watch his best friend shove her hands down her bra for him. 
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Regret is an understatement for what Jake feels. Jake regretted his inability to pick up on the shirt you had on. Jake regretted how worked up Kendall made him feel. Jake regretted not getting here sooner. 
Once you two arrived, out of breath, lungs burning from sprinting across campus—his ex-girlfriend was nowhere in sight. The discovery just stamped down on his annoyance. 
Not wanting to make your trip down here a waste, you suggested that you two should look around for anything new being put out. 
Now, Jake’s trailing behind you as you skim through the new merchandise your college put out for the fall semester.
A year ago, he was here following Kendall around the store, lighting up in laughter as she posed for him in those boxy shirts and corny dad caps. Which he ended up tearing off her body later on. This year though, he’s here with you, his best friend. Jake stops himself from dwelling on it any longer, it's not fair to you if he were to compare.
Spotting a sweater that isn’t relatively ugly—you unhook it from the metal rack, pressing it against your front for him to see. 
Jake looks down at you with pursed lips—but he's distracted by the group pimpled freshman whispering to each other at the far end of the aisle, you’re both standing in. The lot has been eyeing you since you came in, even with Jake by your side. Maybe it’s because Kendall’s racking his every thought, but Jake is getting ticked off. 
“Should I get this one?” There weren’t any mirrors in the shop, all you had was Jake’s opinion to rely on. You tuck your chin, in a failed attempt to look down and see it for yourself. 
He nods. “Sure Princess.” Jake’s trying his best to give you his attention, but he feels compelled to survey the group nearing you both. His eyes narrow down as the tallest of the flock pulls out his phone—while his friends push him forward. Spotting the familiar frat house sticker on the back of the phone case, Jake decides that he’s had enough. 
He’s had enough of them being here. And enough of Kendall not being here. 
Jake’s eyes snap back to you. “Put it on,” he points his chin to the baby blue sweater in your hands. It’s double your size, and one of the threads on the embroidered letters hangs loose—but he doesn’t care enough to bring it to your attention. 
“What?”
Jake takes a step forward, pretending to look down at the price tag with an offhanded shrug. “Just—put it on. I’ll buy it. You look good, Promise.” 
You’re already pulling it off the hanger and over your head, right over that shirt, he asked you to wear. “No take backs,” you gleam at him, stuffing your hands into the front pocket of the hoodie, fingers exploring the soft lining. 
Jake looks at the guy behind you, before dropping his focus onto you again. He playfully tugs at that front pocket, which makes you stumble forward. “No take backs,” he sweetly smiles down at you, keeping his fingers anchored onto the edge of the pocket. 
This isn’t something you’re familiar with. You’ve seen Jake smile at other girls like this, smile at Kendall like this, never you. This smile, it wasn’t ever reserved for you.
You stare up at him, dumbfounded by the sudden boyfriend act he’s putting on. “Is she here?” You whisper, eyes wide underneath him. 
Jake's eyes stretch over to where the group of lame freshmans were previously standing, just to see that they’re backing off now. He casts his gaze back down to you. “Nah, just practicing.” 
Slowly, you nod, remembering that you’re actually doing this. “Right. Just practicing.”
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“What do you want from a guy? Like, what do you like?” Jake hits the button for your apartment floor, pondering back on the girl that’s been on his mind all day.
You let out a small laugh, pressing on the ‘close door’ button on the elevator, prompting the metal doors to meet in the middle. 
“You’ve been asking me a lot of strange questions today,” you point out. 
Jake lightly shrugs, pinching the back of your sweater to still you once the elevator shakes to move upwards. Cheap rent came with interesting amenities that you two had to get used to. 
Staring up at the glowing number board, indicating what floor you’re on—you start to think back on guys you’ve liked in the past. “I don’t know. I just like when guys are nice to me, I don’t ask for much.”
The sound of Jake’s airy laugh could be heard from behind you. “Princess, I meant, what would you want me to do for you as a boyfriend.”
As a boyfriend. Right—Jake’s your boyfriend now.
“Oh, um. I liked it when the guys I dated gave me attention, that was nice I guess,” you begin, unconfidently. Sure Jake was your best friend, there was nothing under the sun you two didn’t talk about—but this? This was the one thing you never thought to talk about with him. 
Jake nods, taking in what you said. “I can do that for you. Anything else?” He releases his pointer finger from the clutch he has on the back of your sweater, using it to poke at your spine—encouraging you to continue. 
“They cared about my feelings....It felt good when they flirted with me....They er—they kissed me at the right times,” you list off, unsure why it’s so awkward for you to confess this to him.
Jake’s eyes drop to the side of your face. Even if you’re standing a bit ahead of him, he can see the flustered expression you’re wearing. The need to entertain it, spurs him on. “I can do that.”
You stiffen. “…Kiss me?”
Wanting to pull another reaction from you, Jake removes his hand, letting the wrinkled fabric come undone. With little effort, he flips you from the small of your back, forcing you to face him. “Are you asking me to now?” He tilts his head, looking down at you with a teasing smile on his face. 
You blink up at him. “No—God no. I was asking if you’re gonna be doing that—like if you're gonna be kissing me,” you spit out, dropping your eyes down to his chest. 
There was a point in time where Jake stood at the same height as you. Now, you’re met with his torso rather than his face when you look forward.
“Not without your permission. Why? You wondering how it feels to kiss me?” He eggs on, holding the drawstring of your hoodie between his two fingers. 
The next statement slips out your mouth before you could even process it. “I know what kissing you is like,” you scoff.
Jake’s eyebrows furrow, dropping the braided thread. “You do?” 
He forgot.
“No! I’m joking,” you spit out hurriedly, pairing it with an awkward chuckle. “We should—we should kiss though, it’ll make it believable. Right?”
The elevator doors ding, cutting through your conversation. “Right,” he finally agrees.
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note: i know i said this was coming out until next week, but i finished it quicker than i had previously thought haha. thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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sweetlittlegingy · 1 year
Text
What If
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☑︎Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Sweet Nothings Masterlist
☑︎ Pairing: Jake Seresin x Y/n Seresin (Mitchell)
☑︎ Word Count: 4 k
☑︎ Warnings: Infertility, IVF, Adoption, Dad!Jake, Teacher/Mom!Reader, Kindergarteners, bad foster parents, child neglect, fluffy dagger squad, Poppa Mav
☑︎ A/n: Holy shit, I had the hardest time writing this. Life has not been kind lately in the school sense and health sense, but I still wanted to give you guys something. I hope that my month long stent has made it so you won't read it. I really appericate the love that you all have been giving me. I can't promise that updates are going to become a regular thing as of yet, but will be trying my hardest. Love you all ♥︎
☑︎Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)
The pitter-patter of feet running down the hallway has you looking up from the fruit bowl you're curating, to glance over your shoulder and catch sight of Laine running toward you as Bradley chases her. Her tiny body clings to your bottom half as she tries to squish in between you and the cabinet.
“Chicken, nooooo!” her small form shakes in laughter as he bends down at your side and pokes at her.
“I was promised a princess.”
Bradley’s voice tries to lower an octave though does the complete opposite and rises to a high squeak that makes you break out in laughter. Your heart swells at the sight, Bradley would make a wonderful uncle. He was already the best brother you could have asked for and since yesterday on base, he had quite literally had Laine on his hip or playing together at every moment.
Gray was never far away, though he tended to stay at neither Bob, Jake, or Javy’s side. You were so used to Gray being attached to you that seeing him interact so much with the squad was startling. You miss your little shadow, though seeing the way that he looked at Jake now was something that you would love to witness daily. Jake had told you that they just talked about planes, but you could see that it meant so much more to both of them.
The munchkin between your legs moves again, darting from Bradley’s outstretched hand as she giggles in excitement.
“I’m Jakey’s princess,” The reply stumps Bradley momentarily, long enough for her little hands to find your own. “Miss CeCe save me!”
Her hands pat at your tummy in a little rhythm as she bounces lightly on her toes. You gently slide the fruit bowl back and lower down to grab the munchkin before Brad can make another grab for her. Her small form bounces in your hold as she wraps her arms around your neck and nuzzles in.
“Run Miss CeCe!” She eyes you in excitement and you drop your gaze back to Bradley, before giving him a smirk. Your hips swivel as you turn and your arms clutch onto a giggling Laine as you run away.
“Get the fruit bowl, Chicken!”
You hear a playful huff at the name, though you’re past the hallway entryway and heading for the back deck before Bradley has a chance to yell back at you. The dimness in the hall is lit by the shining sun outside and you can see the rest of the squad lounging around in chairs while Javy and Jake bicker about grilling.
You hadn’t planned to have a BBQ, though this morning when Bradley and Nat showed up banging on the door with coolers and dessert you didn’t have any other choice.
No, you really had no other choice.
The pair had pushed through the door before you could even question them and told you that they were only here to see the twins. They then followed that up by saying that everyone was coming by, well everyone but Javy, he had spent the night after having a movie fort/sleepover night and had yet to leave. The pair had ushered you that you didn’t need to worry because Bob and Mickey were making sure to grab all the required fixings from the store so you wouldn’t have to worry.
Though you had instantly started making a fruit bowl with the strawberries, grapes, kiwi, and pineapple that you already had. The twins had helped you wash them and then used small star cookie cutters to cut shapes in the pineapple. Though once everyone had finally arrived the pair had automatically gravitated toward the outside. Bradley had also casually thrown in the fact that your dad, Penny, and Amelia were coming over as well. After your dad had met them, he instantly wanted Penny and Amelia to meet the twins.
You brush a small strand of hair from Madelaine’s face, which causes her to give you a sweet smile and then kiss your cheek. That had started last night when you were putting the twins to bed, even though they ended up in yours again during the night. The two of them were in a late-night Disney movie hazy that left them half asleep, which in turn led them to tell both you and Jake that they loved you. It had made your heart stop. You knew that you should be placing boundaries, but so many were already crossed, and Jake and you both loved them so much already.
 Your hand comes up to shield your eyes as the sun nearly blinds you. You didn’t know how it was 78 degrees at the beginning of December, but you weren’t complaining one bit. Your hold on Laine loosens as her small form wiggles until she’s free of you to run across the deck.
“Pop Pop! Ms. CeCe fought Chicken off.” She squeals in delight as your father catches her and tosses her small form in the air. That was also new, Jake had called your father Pops last night and Laine ran with it from there. Now both Gray and Laine were calling him Pop Pop, and neither your father nor anyone else had even spoken of the possibility of having them stop and having them call him Mav instead.
Your glance leaves the pair as they sit down next to Penny and Amelia, the mother and daughter duo instantly fell in love with the twins. So much so that your little sister had asked if she could babysit them sometime. She had been so happy and excited that you couldn’t tell her that you didn’t know if they would ever be back to the house.
A sigh leaves your chest as you cast your eyes around the deck to look at the group of important people in your life, though you can’t seem to find one of the most important ones. Gray wasn’t anywhere in your line of sight, and while you knew he was somewhere in the yard, that didn’t stop your breath from hitching. A pinch to your back makes you jump, while Bradley laughs and moves passed you with the fruit salad. You bat your hand at him, playfully glaring at him as he passes.
You’re still looking for Gray when you catch Jake’s eyes, he then gives you a small tip of the head out to the lawn and causes you to venture over to look out at the yard. A smile rests on your face as you lean against the railing of the deck to watch Bob, Mickey, Nat, and Gray as they lay on the lawn watching the sky. Gray’s hand shoots up causing your own eyes to shoot to the sky as a jet passes overhead. You only hear pieces of the conversation, something about cloud coverage, altitude, and flight pattern prediction, but it makes you smile all the same. Gray finally had people that would understand and listen to him, instead of brushing him off and not believing a word he said. Because as Janice had so kindly told you during a conference, “Children aren’t that smart, stop feeding into his fantasy.” The woman had riled you up to the point where you skipped over the last half of the packet, already knowing that she wasn’t listening to a thing you said about Grayson, and practically pushed her out the door.
The hands that wined around your waist and grasped onto the railing in front of you, have you relaxing back into the familiar chest. Jake’s chin settles on your shoulder after giving your cheek a small kiss causing the weight of your body to sink further into the comforting hold. You both sigh, and the mutual feeling of peace and fulfillment passes through the two of you.
“They blend in seamlessly.�� Jake’s breath heats your neck, and you can’t help but to smile at the comment because it was true. They fit into your little family perfectly, and you were going to soak up every moment you had this weekend.
“I don’t want it to be over.” Jake’s hands wrap around you as you say it, and squeeze you gently. “I don’t know how I’m just going to let them go back there.” Your voice is heavy with pain that neither one of you acknowledge, instead, hoping to remain in this moment.
The tightness in your chest relieves, as neither of you can comment when you hear a whistle ring out that causes everyone to look over at Javy. He stands by the grill, with Laine on his hip as she silently waits for everyone’s attention. Javy smiles down at the small girl as she watches the group of you bouncing from excitement in his hold. Her eyes move from the group and up to Javy as the group quiets down to listen. He gives her a tiny nod that has a smile breaking out on not only her face but yours as well.
“The food is done.” Laine’s voice rings out through the backyard, but before anyone can make their way to the grill Javy whispers something else in her ear to say. “Ummm... Javy said he cooked everything, and Jakey didn’t help and that he’s the best cook.”
The comment causes everyone but Jake to laugh. A dramatic sigh falls from his lips as he steps out from behind you, only taking one step closer to the pair. You giggle as Jake clutches at his heart, eyes wide and never leaving Laine’s, before slipping to his knees beside you.
“You wound me, little darlin’.” His voice is strained and causes the surrounding group to gently smile at him. It didn’t go unnoticed how much Jake loved the twins already, and while they never mentioned the fact to you or Jake, it didn’t stop the squad from talking amongst themselves.
Jake barely has time to catch Laine as she runs into his arms and clutched onto him. She leans into his ear and whispers words that you can’t make out that have the both of them smiling. They must be good if the mega smile not resting on Jake’s face can tell you anything. Jake slowly rises to stand up while the pair laugh together, both of them looking at Javy in a teasing manner.
“You two keeping secrets now?” Your voice is questioning and has Madelaine leaning into you.
“I didn’t wanna hurt Javy’s feelings, Ms. CeCe. Jakey is still the best.” A giggle bubbles from you as she gives you a toothy grin, before you both then look at Javy and you can’t help but laugh even more at his wondering stare.
A weight settles against your leg and causes you to glance down to find Gray, already looking back up at you. His blonde locks house a few pieces of grass that you pick out, while his finger wraps around your belt loop.
“Hi, Sweetpea.” His blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight as a quiet hi is said back to you. “You ready to eat?”
You get back a small nod as he stays attached to your hip, watching the surrounding crowd from the designated safe zone. While Gray had opened up immensely to the group, he still ended up at your side whenever the group became too much. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable, but his social anxiety and depleted self-esteem caused him to doubt his worth, especially around people he didn’t know well.
You hadn’t noticed that Jake put down Laine, though as his hands come around Gray to lift him in the same manner, he had with Laine just moments ago your heart swells. The sound of his laugh echoed through the yard as the group milled around getting food and talking, though your eyes could leave to pair.
A perfect father-son duo. You could have told anyone that the twins were your kids, not just from how they were almost identical copies of Jake. But anyone that saw how they interacted, and the amount of love that passed between them from minuscule actions and words alone.
“Come on you two, before Roos eats everything.” Your voice is teasing as you pull the pair along with you to grill to follow Laine, who already had your dad piling a mountain of food on a plate for her. Your eyes don’t miss the two different pieces of cake and brownie that cover most of the surface of the plate. You shake your head at your father, just now realizing how tightly Laine has him wrapped around her finger.
Your comment finally gained a reaction from Bradley, as a small kid playing ball lands against your back and makes you yelp before turning. You give him a smile that only a little sister can give to her older brother, followed by your tongue peeking out in a taunt.
You would give anything to stay in this moment with this group of people, your family, forever.
...
You finish putting the last dish away from the washer and wipe down the counter as the clock strikes 8:00. Signaling that it was in fact the twin’s bedtime, well the one that you had given them. Neither Janice nor Ed said if they had a nighttime routine, though you were sure that it wasn’t that they forgot to mention it. No, from what you knew, the pair of them didn’t care so long as the twins didn’t disturb them and stayed in their room.
Wiping your hand one last time, you slowly make your way down the hall in search of the three individuals that consumed your every waking thought. You glance at the guest room and the perfectly made bed, knowing that the twins wouldn’t be sleeping in there tonight either. Only to venture future down the hall when you hear the near-silent humming coming from your bedroom. The dimming sun no longer lights your house and the warm glow coming from the lamp in your room just barely reaches your outline as you settle against the door frame.
Jake sits in the middle of the bed wearing a pair of sweats and tee-shirt that he had slipped on earlier when you sent him to take a shower while you did a couple pages of homework with the twins. He then had the duty of wrangling the two of them into the bath and making sure that they didn’t flood the bathroom floor like they had on you last night. You had disappeared at their request for bubbles and when you came back, nearly half of the tub water was on the floor. You had tried so hard to appear cross with them, though, at the sight of the sheepish smiles they gave you, your heart had overflown with love. You weren’t going to stop the pair of them from doing something that wasn’t dangerous, because it made a small mess. You knew that the carefree spirit that encased them wasn’t something that they were normally allowed to do.
From the looks of it though, tonight had defiantly gone in Jake’s favor. Not only from his dry pajamas but the fact that both Madelaine and Grayson had both found their places in bed next to him without a second thought. That they both felt a sense of peace and protection from Jake’s presence.
The three of them were a sight that warmed your heart beyond compare and made you curse yourself for leaving your phone on the kitchen table, missing the picture-perfect moment. In the middle of Jake’s lap, Laine sits as he braids her hair into two little French braids that just reach her shoulders. While Gray lays behind them cuddling your pillow, eyes fluttering open and closed as he tries to stay awake.
“Your sisters would be happy to know you can still braid hair.” Your voice floats through the room; Gray just barely looks at you only to give you a tiny smile, as Laine twists the finished braid around her finger trying to hide the yawn that slips passed her lips.
“I would hope that ten years of braiding their hair for volleyball whenever mom was late for a game, would have stuck with me.” His laugh makes you smile as you watch the pair of them momentarily. Jake had fallen into the dad role easily, and while you both were so happy to have the twin, you worried about how they would handle having to go back to Janice and Ed’s house Monday.
Jake's eyes lift to you while his fingers work seamlessly back and forth, he could always tell when something was on your mind. The snap of the final tiny elastic getting wrapped around the end of the braid, has you looking back up at the flawless braid. Jake’s arms softly wrap around Laine to lay gently squeezes at her waist, as her small hands rub tiredly at her eyes. She leans back in his hold, snuggling up to him as her eyes start to droop like Gray’s.
“I think Roos and Nat tuckered them out with that last game of tag.” You laugh lightly thinking about the sight of Bradley holding each of the twins in an arm, and running away from Nat.
“I’m sure that they’re just as tired, Rooster probably fell asleep on his couch and didn’t even make it to his bed.” You laugh at Jake’s comment because you know for a fact that Bradley fell asleep on the couch from the picture Bob sent you an hour ago.
 Jake glances down at the weight against his chest, Laine turns slightly as she sighs and fully relaxes to cuddle in closer. She holds onto Jake’s black tee shirt with one hand while to other grasps onto her ocean blanket, falling into sleep like it was a warm hug. Jake slowly lifts her, which causes both of her hands to wrap around his neck and his to rub at her back. He whispers soothing sounds as his hand glides up and down her back, helping her relax again. Jake is quick to move her before she can settle in too much though, not wanting to wake the munchkin up from setting her down. He easily turns around with her in his hold and lays her down against his pillow across from Gray.
Her small body lays encased by the surrounding blankets as she snuggles in closer and sighs as Jake tucks the duvet under her chin and kisses her forehead. Jake moves over to tuck in Gray as well as you gently brush the stray baby hairs from Laine’s face and gently kiss her head. Followed by you then tucking and kissing Gray as well, before you sneak into the bathroom to change into your PJs while Jake heads to the living room.
You find Jake laid out on the sofa, hands behind his head with two steaming cups of tea sitting on the coffee table. He gives you a dopy smile that makes your heart beat just a bit faster, before crawling into his open arms. Your legs rest around his waist and your head settles on his chest to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart.
Neither of you moves as you watch the sunset through the massive living room window that faces the Pacific. Jake’s hand slowly slips into your hair and runs his fingers through it gently without even realizing it. Though the small moan of relief causes him to chuckle in realization, before kissing the top of your head and resuming.
“We could do it you know.” His voice is tired and there’s a deep sound of longing intertwined with the words. You hum in question, happy to listen, but far too comfortable to lift your head from his chest and have a conversation.
“The twins; we could apply for adoption.”
His words hang in the air, sure you both had thought and talked about it over and over. Though there was something in Jake’s tone that was different this time. This wasn’t your Jakey that you could tease and easily rial up. No, this was Jacob. The man that got in a fistfight with one of your mother’s ex-boyfriends after he made a backhanded comment about your lack of pregnancy. The man that would protect the people that he loved, even if it meant putting himself in danger. He was serious, so serious that you half wondered if he had already been looking into the adoption process that the state of California had in place.
“Baby –”
“I’m serious darlin’. They are in every single thought I have about our future; I can’t even fathom a life without them anymore.” Jake’s hand slips from your hair and now both of them wrap around you. He clings to you, and you slowly realize that his tense chest and tight hold on you are in fear of your reaction to him wanting to adopt the twins. Your heart aches, you knew how much both of them meant to you. But hearing Jake tell you out loud that he didn’t see a future that didn’t include the twins, officially confirms just how much you both want the twins.
Knowing that is conversation deserved more than just your muffled words against Jake’s chest you slowly sit up, still on Jake’s lap but now able to see each other’s faces. You both could read each other like an open book and though you were positive that Jake was being sincere, you had to see the look in his eyes. You had to be absolutely sure before you let the idea blossom into a reality.
“Adopting them isn’t going to be easy, Jake. Janice and Ed are going to throw a fit because they want to keep getting their monthly check.” Your voice is gentle but firm, “And I hate to even say it, but we have to think about the fact that there are two of them. We planned for one baby, Jake. Can we financially even take on them and give them the life that they deserve?”
Jake's hand moves from your waist to brush against your cheek and causes you to lean farther into him. He knows that your reluctance is only because you’re afraid that you aren’t good enough to be their mom, a mom in general. You didn’t have the breakdowns a lot, but when you did, they were bad. And no matter how much he assured you, you were terrified that the universe wasn’t giving you a child because you weren’t worthy.
Jake’s other hand finds your cheek as well to tilt your head back up. Your chin and eyes had fallen, but Jake needed you to realize that you deserved a child more than anyone.
“Darlin’ we are more than financially stable to take them on. I’m teaching now and missions are rare. I want them to be ours.” Your head nods in his hold but he can feel the cogs in your head turning.
“Honey, look at me.” Your eyes lift and Jake’s heart cracks to see your waterline filled with tears. “You deserve to be a momma more than anyone I know. Maybe things worked out the way they did because some higher power knew that there would be two twin terrors that would need us just as much as we need them.”
A tear falls from your eyes and Jake is quick to brush it away. “You think?” Your voice is small and broken, though you trust Jake more than anyone else and if he said this was the family that both of you deserved and needed, you would believe him.
“I know, darlin’.”
Your face tucks into Jake’s neck and the tiny laugh of joy you give him, makes his arms tighten around as a smile forms on his lips. Your voice is muffled, but Jake hears you perfectly. “We’re gonna make them ours.”
“They’re already ours, darlin’. We’re just gonna make it official now.”
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justabigassnerd · 5 months
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Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader
Word count - 1,654
Warnings - creepy guys, protective Jake & Mickey, being made uncomfortable, angst, fluff
Summary - when you get bothered by customers at work, Jake and Mickey can't just stand by and watch
A/N - hey y'all! sorry it's taken me so long to get a new fic out, I swear I'm trying to write faster but I be struggling. this was a request sent in by @stupendousnightmaretrash so here's a formal apology for taking so long. anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!
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Growing up it had always just been you and your dad, and you were perfectly fine with that arrangement. There would be a small number of people that would come in and out of your life, but your dad stuck around no matter what and he was all you needed.
Then he got called back to Top Gun.
After completing the mission he was called back for, Jake and his squad were offered a permanent position at Top Gun so they could all remain together which brought a new array of people into your life. You knew Javy of course; he and your dad had formed a close friendship early on so having him back in your life was a welcome surprise. Then there was the likes of Bradley, Bob, Ruben, and Natasha who became your honorary uncles and aunt. Then there was Mickey who somehow became like a second father to you. He was the youngest of the Daggers and so everyone had assumed he’d take more of an older brother role towards you, but he showed his complex maturity when he helped you solve a problem you were having, and you often found yourself going to him with problems you weren’t ready to talk to your own dad about yet to get advice from him.
A couple of years down the line, your dad and the Daggers were still based in Miramar and life was just as good as it was when the team first became an official squadron. You had recently turned sixteen and gotten a job working at a little restaurant along the beachfront for a little extra cash. It wasn’t the best job in the world, but it was something.
One evening, after a long day of work at Top Gun, the Daggers decided that they’d visit the restaurant you worked at to grab some dinner and to also surprise you while you were working.
The squadron turned up and waited excitedly to be seated and Jake couldn’t help but smile when he saw your eyes light up upon seeing the team gathered. You found them a table and handed out menus to everyone. The smile never leaves your face as you talk to them, getting their drinks orders before heading off to go and get their drinks. When you returned with their drinks you took their food orders and took them to the kitchen before returning to your section and seating two middle-aged men at a table near the Daggers. At first, they were polite, thanking you as they initially sat down and gave you their drinks orders with kind smiles but as the evening progressed their behaviour shifted. When you brought them their meals after the Daggers were just about halfway through their own dinners, the two men started looking you up and down, making uncomfortable flirty comments and one of the men even tried to run his hand along yours as you placed his food down in front of him. None of the men’s comments or actions went unnoticed by Mickey, who nudged Jake and pointed out how uncomfortable you clearly looked while serving the two men. When you moved away from the table to grab more drinks for the two men, Mickey and Jake exchanged a look and pushed their chairs away from the table, rising in sync and crossing to the two men.
“Can we help you?” One of the men asks, raising an eyebrow as they stare up at the two aviators who fold their arms across their chest in tandem, glaring down at the two men.
“You can stop bothering my daughter, that’s how you can help me.” Jake says, jaw set as his gaze grows colder by the second. The two men share a brief glance before letting out small chuckles.
“With all due respect. Your daughter is very beautiful.” One of the men has the gall to say, making Jake almost shift to land a punch on that man’s cocky smile, but Mickey was quicker, grabbing Jake’s shoulder and pulling him back a couple of paces to reduce the fight risk.
“She’s also sixteen years old. She’s just a kid!” Mickey has to hold himself back from screaming it in the man’s face as his friend shrugs.
“Well, she looks older.”
“And you still think that makes it okay?” Mickey says as Jake shrugs Mickey’s hand off his shoulder and approaches the two men, bracing his hands on the table, and leaning down so he’s in their faces.
“You two have about five minutes to pay your bill, give my kid a good tip and get your sorry asses out of here.” Jake’s voice was low and threatening, but the two men chuckled once again.
“What exactly are you going to do if we don’t do that?” The man asks, smirking cockily as he leant back in his seat, arms folding over his chest.
“I’ve got an entire team of naval aviators behind me, and they will not hesitate to get involved on my kid’s behalf.” Jake is seconds away from throwing a punch when the men laugh in his face.
“I have your- what’s going on?” Your return should’ve been expected yet in the moment all four men had forgotten you had gone off to get drinks.
“Nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart.” Jake says, straightening up and flashing a smile in your direction as Mickey drops his defensive stance to make everything seem more natural.
“Exactly, sweetheart. Are those our drinks?” One of the men says, condescension in his tone as he looks you up and down, frowning when you begin to look uncomfortable at his words.
“Oh come on, you can’t serve us with a smile?” He then says, and Mickey immediately walks over to you and takes the drinks off the tray.
“Mickey, what are you doing?” You ask in a hushed whisper as Mickey winks quickly, refusing to answer before turning around and slapping the biggest grin on his face and approaching the table.
“Here’s your drinks.” Mickey says, placing both drinks down making sure he spilt a bit over each man as he put them down.
“What are you doing?” One man says, standing up and attempting to brush the drink off his trousers.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you wanted to be served with a smile. I must’ve gotten a bit carried away.” Mickey says, the grin never leaving his face as both men grab napkins to wipe at their clothes while Jake crosses to you.
“Why don’t you grab the bill for these two? I have a feeling they’ll be leaving soon.” Jake whispers, watching as you nod lightly and head back to get the bill for the two men. Jake and Mickey return to the table with the Daggers, telling them that the situation appears to be defused and that since they had finished up all their meals, they’d get the bill and pay after the two men left. Jake kept glancing over at the two men as you brought over their bill and thankfully their mouths remained shut and they paid for their food and drinks silently before finishing their drinks and leaving the restaurant. When they left, you went over to the Daggers table and got them their bill and took the payments. You said goodbye to each Dagger in turn as they left but Jake and Mickey stopped in front of you.
“We’re going to wait outside for you, I know you don’t have much longer of your shift, and we want to make sure those assholes don’t come back.” Jake says, both he and Mickey smiling softly at you as you nod, thanking them before rushing off to finish off the rest of your shift.
Mickey and Jake sit outside the restaurant on a bench just by the beachfront and watch people taking evening strolls along the beach and listen to the sounds of seagulls calling and waves crashing against the sand. The two men found themselves talking about how work was going for them to pass the time until they heard you calling out for them, and they both turned and looked over their shoulders, a smile coming to their faces as they got to their feet and crossed to meet you halfway. Jake reached you first and trapped you in a strong but gentle hug.
“Was the rest of your shift, okay?” Was the first thing he asked as he hugged you, feeling you nod against his chest.
“Yeah.” You say as you pull away from the hug, moving to hug Mickey who embraces you happily.
“No one else bothered you?” Mickey checks in as he releases you from the hug.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle. Thank you, by the way. Those guys really gave me the creeps.” You admit, briefly casting your gaze to the floor before looking back up at the two men.
“No need to thank us, sweetheart. We’ll always look out for you.” Jake says with a soft smile.
“Honestly, if you two weren’t in the Navy I would’ve asked my manager to hire you guys. We could do with some people to help us handle the creepy guys. And I think Mickey would be an excellent waiter, he’s got the customer service smile down.” You say with a slight laugh, making both your dad and Mickey let out laughs of their own as they imagine Mickey being a waiter.
“Come on you, let’s get home.” Jake then says, the laughter dying down as Mickey slings an arm over your shoulders and tugs you into his side as the three of you begin to walk away from the restaurant, chatting and laughing the whole way as you enjoy each other’s company. The events of the evening are now behind you as you cherish getting to spend time with two of your favourite people. And you wouldn’t trade them for the world.
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