#STCHT

[saltsicklover]

Part One - STCHT

Here's to a new adventure! Enjoy!!

Title: Someone To Come Home To

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2200+

Rating: R

Warnings: Talk of Secrets, Swearing, Jake's mothering being A LOT, talks of death and trauma.

Best Friends to Lovers Romance! Marriage of Convenience!

Disclaimer: I do not own Jake Seresin, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

The Dagger Squad is good at keeping secrets- they make their living under Top Secret clearance, their fighter jets being a means to an end, really. They fly with a prayer on their lips, they compete their missions, make miracles, and come home. That's the job. 

They do it, and they do it well, because that is the job. From the moment the step onto that aircraft carrier, it no longer matters what they are leaving behind. They may fight for what's behind them, who is behind them, but none of that matters the second they step into that jet. All that mattered from that moment on was the mission, the job, the next step or twelve they had to take in order to get back home. 

Maybe that's why they have so many secrets. 

They tell people it's so information can't be tortured out of them- if they can keep their personal lives a secret, they can damn sure keep professional information from falling into the wrong hands. They say it's because they are just quiet people, they don't like their personal lives out in the open for anyone to see. Sometimes they even say it's so they can focus on the job. If no one is talking about home, there will be nothing to miss on mission, on deployment, or while they are stationed across the country. 

Those were never the real reasons. Each Dagger had their own. Nobody ever questioned each other until they became a permeant detachment out of San Diego and things that were once kept secret slowly began working their way out. 

The secrets, physical fitness standards, uniform regulations, and bureaucracy were just added bullshit on top of the contracted nine to five job that Jake Seresin accepted when he signed on that dotted line. Again, and again, and again. 

The job was good, really good. It brought him all over the world, seeing things that people didn't even think to wish for. From the deepest blue hues of the ocean and their white crested waves that lap themselves up against the sides of aircraft carriers to the clearest sky that surrounded him each time he flew. No matter where he found himself, the world seemed to stretch so far around him and a feeling of absolute awe filled him. 

He swore up and down that there was nothing like it, the feeling that the ever expansive Earth was just beyond of his fingertips, and he ached to see it all. Seresin crossed his heart, claiming there was nothing more beautiful than watching the world form the seat of his jet- the sun cresting over the horizon, the blue from both the sky and sea being interrupted by a streak of brilliant sunlight. 

He knew the sky was where he belonged from the moment his Father's best friend took him up in his private prop plane. It was just a little two seater Cessna, but Jake sat in the back, fighting the the seatbelt the whole time. He wanted nothing more than to push his face flush up against the glass and take in everything the eye could see. It was that moment, his world broke open, his future crystal clear- he belonged in the sky. 

Getting into the Navy was all that mattered, so, he fought like hell to claim his place, to fly with the best pilots, to be a navel aviator. He started young, first with good grades and model planes before moving onto high school, his plucky neighbor in tow. 

Seresin had first met his neighbor, who he affectionately refers to as Spurs, when his Mother dragged him over to their home with a Bundt cake to welcome them to the neighborhood. The gesture was meant to be friendly, the Texans with kind hearts and hospitality to boot. 

The Jett family was less than impressed with the gesture, but, they took the cake anyway in an attempt to seem nice. It's never the best idea to upset new neighbors on the day you move in, even if the cake that Mrs. Seresin held out to Ms. Jett felt more like an excuse to snoop than it did to actually be kind. The thing the Mrs. Seresin didn't know was that her presence was more of an interruption than a welcome party. That, however, didn't stop the wide eyed girl from pushing around her mother's legs, sticking her hand out towards Jake with gusto and self confidence. 

"Good afternoon!" Mrs. Seresin's cheeks bore too much blush and not enough of a smile as Mrs. Jett opened the door about 45 degrees. She stuck her head out onto the porch, her daughter quickly hiding behind the door, a finger laced through her mother's belt loop. 

"Hi," The greeting is short and Mrs. Seresin pulls her lips into a tight line, still trying to keep the corners ticked up to allude to a smile in response to her new neighbor.  

Mrs. Seresin's blond hair is styled tall and proud, no doubt giving her about four more inches in height, adding to the extra couple she gets from her strappy heals. She wears a beautiful dress, one that wraps her upper body before flowing down into a skirt to hide her tummy and hips. Things that, no doubt wouldn't be considered 'lady-like' to show off. The neckline is modest, but there is enough room to layer a set of dainty pearls around her neck. Her blue eyes sparkle against her thick layer of makeup. 

Her son is clad in jeans that are just a hair too long for him, even with the little bit of height he gets from his cowboy boots. A t-shirt is tucked into this jeans, a belt buckle on proud display. His cheeks are rosy with heat, unclear if the cause is from the weather or the embarrassment his mother is subjecting him to. 

"My name is Patricia Seresin, and this is my son, Jacob," She runs her well manicured fingers through his hair. "We live just across the way and we wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood!" The cheeriness laced in her voice is fake but well rehearsed; a tone of voice that would sound wonderfully condescending with the right words. Ms. Jett takes note of the tone and the way her new neighbors lacquered nails stand out against her son's hair, the shining red paint against the bright blond of the boy's too long hair. Jacob's hair falls unceremoniously over his forehead, a hat line worn into his bangs, no doubt from the dark brown Stetson he cradles against his chest. 

Patricia holds the cake out towards Ms. Jett expectantly, her eyebrows inching up her forehead as she shakes the plastic wrap covered dessert at her new neighbor. Patricia mutters something about it being a "Bundt" and so, with a sigh,  Ms. Jett pulls open the door a bit further, trying not to notice the way her new neighbor's eyes rake over her form. Her hair is tied back, bandanna tied tightly around her head, almost obscuring her dirty blonde hair. Her white t-shirt is tucked beneath a pair of cutoff overalls, a pair of high tops adorn her feet. 

"I'm Lizzy- Elizabeth Varon Jett" She introduced herself as she took the cake being presented to her. Once she let go of the door, it swung open the rest of the way, her daughter's hand on the knob. Her daughter is still hidden a bit behind her legs. "This is my daughter, Captain," Lizzy introduces her daughter with a little smirk.

"You named your daughter, Captain?" The judgement leaks through Patricia's voice and Lizzy can't help but laugh.

"Heavens, no! But she won't actually respond to anything but Captain, so that's what we go with. My late husband was a Naval Lieutenant, and used to call her Captain because it's a superior rank.  It's silly," She dismisses with a wave of her hand, a light wash of tears flooding her eyes. "Captain, this is Mrs. Patricia, and her son, Jacob," 

"Mrs. Seresin,"

"Jake," 

The neighbors speak at the same time.  Captain's eyes drifted from Mrs. Seresin to the boy standing next to her. He smiles widely at her, a couple of his front teeth missing. She smiles back, showing off a tooth gap of her own. Lizzy laughs at the exchange, Patricia doesn't. 

"Captain starts at the Elementary school just down the road in a couple of weeks," Lizzy says, more to Jake than to his mother, "Fourth grade, a big year! What about you, Jacob?"

"I will be going into fourth grade as well, Ma'am," He informs her, a smile playing on his lips. 

"That's very exciting, maybe you two will be in the same class!" Lizzy nudges her daughter a bit with her hip, a smile on both of their faces. The words go unspoken between mother and daughter, a new friend. 

Captain looks Jake up and down before making a decision. She moved out fully from behind the safety of her mother's legs, a new confidence taking over. She didn't even bother to give her name, real or the nickname she had been using since she was seven, instead opting to ask a question, one that would stick in the back of Jake's mind for the rest of time, "Where are your spurs? I thought everyone here in Texas wore spurs!"

The laugh that escaped his lips sealed the deal for her. Jake would be her best friend. Jake's mother nudged him between the shoulders, apologizing for his inconsiderate attitude. As their mothers continued their conversation, Spurs stuck out her hand again, this time, he took it in his own, grip firm and assured. 

With a few more spoken words between the women, they bid each other a good afternoon, each mother having to pull their own child into the house and off the porch, respectively. Captain knew form that moment on that didn't plan on letting anything get in her way, not the new house, the new school, the new life without her father, nothing. Especially when it came to the green eyed boy who lived across the street, who was in her new fourth grade class. The moment she laid eyes on him life swept them up, tangling them together, whether they like it or not- but little did each other know, they would like it an awful lot. 

---

Over the years, Jake and Spurs came to know lots about each other, probably more than they knew about themselves. Jake's family owned a large ranching business but after his father, Richard, got injured, they moved into town leaving the ranch in their employees capable hands.

Jake learned how Spurs' father, David, died. He was in a helicopter that went down, the ocean swept the wreckage under and no one made it out. They shouldn't have been flying with the storm, but the Navy remains adamant that there was appropriate weather when they took off. Spurs doesn't speak about her father, much to her Mom's dismay. 

Jake loves math even though he would never admit it, and Sunny was fantastic in history. He could spell, she couldn't. She always slipped him her carton of milk in exchange for his grapes. They balanced each other out, the way best friends should. 

Their mothers took photos of them together every year, the first day of school, and the last, posed in front of the large tree outside the Seresin house. They traded birthday gifts and homework. They got caught cheating in the sixth grade as they slipped each other answers for the reading quiz. Neither of them cared for the books they read, so they each read half and swapped answers. It wasn't a fool proof plan, but they didn't find that out until they were sitting outside the principals office, bumping knees and waiting for their furious mothers to get through with the principal. 

The years went by quickly, between school work and first time job, first kisses and parties. Not before long, it was graduation and the pair were happy as could be, posing for photos together. They were clad in cap and gown, hanging off of each other, smiles brighter than the Texas sun. Jake was headed for bootcamp a few weeks later, more than ready to begin his Naval career. 

Spurs was headed north, school in Minnesota calling her name. She didn't really want to go, but she promised her Mother she would give it a try. When she finally made it to the tiny college town, nestled right up against the Mississippi river, she barely lasted through the first winter. Between the homesick feeling that never left her chest and the fact that Jake was due home for Easter before shipping out to his first duty station for Flight School, she was itching to get home. 

She told herself she didn't need the fancy degree anyway- it wasn't what she wanted out of life in the first place. Spurs wanted to travel, to work with her hands, to meet new people and figure out what life was outside of her little corner of it all. She was ready for whatever the world was going to dish her- at least, she thought she was. That was until she walked through the front door of her house, bags in hand, only to find the Seresin's and her mother waiting for her, each wearing a more intense look than the last. Absolutely nothing could have prepared her for the words that left Richard's mouth. 

[writingsbychlo]

goddamn it chloe i’m sitting here tryna do my bio homework but all i can think abt is mitch saying “i don’t wanna break up w u kitten i wanna marry u” in STCHT 😭😭 it’s soft mitch hours

i forgot i wrote that line and now i am lying in bed trying to sleep and thinking about it smh

[saltsicklover]

Part Two - STCHT

Title: Someone To Come Home To

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3300+

Rating: R

Warnings: Talks of Sick Parent, Crying, so much crying, Drinking, Heavy Conversation, likely inaccurate medical stuff.

Best Friends to Lovers Romance! Marriage of Convenience!

Disclaimer: I do not own Jake Seresin, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

Bags hang off Spurs' shoulders, weighing her down as she stalks up the driveway. Her SUV is packed full; what was once in her dorm is now stacked in the back of the vehicle. It's strange, to have her whole life fit in the back of a vehicle. Everything that makes her, her, outside of her body now on wheels. Spurs tries not to think about the fact that everything she has with her is her entire life. The idea that somehow, someone might be alright with living so minimally never sat right with her. The thought that her existence only expanded as far as she could reach doesn't quite settle in her bones. 

 Maybe it's the fact that it is her life alone, no one else's things mingling with her own. 

So, she thinks about a nice holiday at home with her Mom, and the fact that being in school was never her dream anyway. Her life is supposed to be more than sitting behind a desk. She needs to reach as far as she can and learn without limits. 

The handle on the front door of her mother's house still jiggles a bit as she turns it. It's been that way since Jake and Spurs rammed a couch into it while moving it through the threshold. It was supposed to be an easy task, really it was, and Ms. Jett wanted nothing more than to have a new couch. What she wasn't bargaining for was a doorknob that would jiggle for the next three years and counting. There is a scuff mark on the siding of the house right by the front door too. Spurs runs her fingers across it as she pushes through the threshold. 

"Hi, Mama, I'm home!" One bag clatters to the ground right in the entryway. "Happy Easter. The ham smells fantastic," and down goes another bag, settling itself right in front of the stairs. 

"Hi, Captain, Sweetheart! In here!" Lizzy calls, her voice carrying from the back of the house. When Spurs turns the corner she is met with the sight of not only her mother but the Seresin's as well. 

Mr. Seresin sits in one of the large leather recliners, a large Stetson atop his head. In his hand he holds a glass of what can only be a whiskey-coke. Spurs has only ever seen him drink whiskey-cokes. His wife is sat on the arm of the leather chair, he large hair styled to perfection. Her outward appearance hadn't changed much. Her favored red nail polish still shines brightly on her fingertips as she runs a hand down the collar of her husband's shirt. 

Jake is a few feet away, wringing his hands and pacing a few steps back and fourth. He looks nervous, more nervous than Spurs had ever seen him. She watches as he runs a hand through his hair and then down his face, attempting to collect himself. 

"Jake!" Her backpack falls to the ground with a dense thud. She scurries over, throwing her hands around his shoulders. He tenses. He has never tensed under her touch before, and she recoils. He can't speak, his body too tight with tension. So, she pulls her hands back, stepping away from his still recoiling form. Jake stands before her, still green around the gills, looking completely uncomfortable. 

"Jake, what's wrong? You don't look so good," Spurs brings a hand up to push his hair back from his forehead. Her fingertips are met with sweat that has collected around his brow. He attempts a small smile her way, but it comes out in more of a grimace. 

"Miss Jett, we are glad that you could join us," Mr. Seresin interrupts, pulling the eyes in the room toward himself. He runs a finger along the lip of his glass, a content smirk over his lips. "We have some very important business to discuss."

"What's going on?"

Spurs looks towards her mother for any clue as to what's happening. Her mother wears a soft expression, one that is riddled with underlying knowing that Captain can't quite make out. She gestures to the couch with a flick of her wrist, an unspoken invitation for her daughter to sit. Captain sits down uncertainly, her Mother sitting in the open arm chair next to the Seresins. 

Their son still stands just off to the side of the group, sweaty and pacing, like he might be able to walk an indent in to the carpet and displace the gnawing feeling in his chest. Nothing could have prepared him for the conversation that was about to take place, but through his anxiety, he can't help but wish he could have given Spurs a heads up as to what she would be walking in to. 

That's the way the world is though, right? There is always something lurking around the corner, no notice printed, always subject to change. Somewhere between fate and choice, the group sits, the air thick with tension that seems to ripple over their skin.

"We need to have a conversation," Lizzy speaks first, her voice almost too certain. It makes Captain's adrenaline sky rocket. The Seresin's sit, hands intertwined. Lizzy mulls over her words; they seem too big for her mouth, intruding on her gums. 

"I'm sick, Captain, and I don't have much time left," Lizzy finally spits out. One might think there would be a trace of worry on her face, maybe a tear in her eye, yet, Lizzy wears a small content smile. There is no fear behind her eyes, nor do her hands shake. The news she has delivered has been accepted by her soul- no room for fear. It just is.  

Captain, on the other hand, shakes. Bile creeps up the back of her throat, dragging the nausea with it. She thinks she might be sick- her body flashing between hot and cold without warning. Tears invade her eyes, everything in her field of view now swimming. 

"What?" 

"I have an inoperable brain tumor," Lizzy explains, "The doctor's have given me a year at most. They said that they didn't catch it early enough, and it just keeps growing-"

The sentence is interrupted with a strangled sound from Spurs, her hand doing nothing to muffle the noise that escapes from between her lips. She isn't crying- too shocked to find it in her. Instead, she feels like she has just been pushed to the floor, the wind escaping her chest from the impact. 

Lizzy observes the discomfort on her daughter's face, but continues anyway. There is too much to say and not enough time to say it. 

"Oh honey. There is nothing to be afraid of. You know that death isn't an end, it's just the beginning of the next step, the next life," Lizzy attempts to comfort her daughter, but the words don't have the effect she wishes they did. 

"When I found out, I went and talked to the Seresin's, and the three of us came up with a plan," Lizzy continues, her eyes drifting over to Patricia, who holds a hand out to the other woman. They clasp their hands together, exchanging a look between them. Patricia nods, squeezing Lizzy's hand. 

"I want to know that you will be taken care of when I'm gone, Captain," 

"And we want to know that Jacob will have someone to come home to after flight school, and the Navy takes more kindly to those with families," Patricia continues, her words sure, though there is a bit of tension in the lines of her face. This is the first time Captain notices age on the older woman's face, the feeling hitting her in the chest. 

"What are you saying?" Captain's voice is strained, throat almost raw. She sounds like she has taken large gulps of salt water; like she has been fighting the current of the ocean. 

"We have arranged for you and Jacob to get married," Mr. Seresin lays everything out on the table. He brings his drink up to his lips, taking a deep drink of it. 

"What?" 

The question is met again by Mr. Seresin, who leans forward and places a small box, velvet box on the coffee table in front of Captain. Her eyes lock on the dark purple velvet. The way the edges are sewn is perfect, not a stitch out of place, and with all the news being thrown at her, Captain can't help but trace her eye along the edges of the box. Her mouth hands slightly agape, tongue resting against her bottom lip. 

Time seems to slow for everyone. All the attention is on the small, square box sitting on the coffee table. After another moment, Mr. Seresin leans forward and pops open the box before directing it back towards Captain. 

"That ring there was a gift from my grandfather, to my grandmother in 1945. They had gotten married right before he got drafted. His mother, my great grandmother, wanted him to have a wife to return to when the war was over- and when he made it back, he presented my grandmother with that ring. He said that he hoped it would make up for all the time they had spent apart," 

Captain can't take her eyes off the ring. The large, square emerald sits in the center of the band, flanked on either side by smaller, rectangular aquamarines. The stones are set on a delicate gold band, the whole piece shining under the lamp light. The stones remind Captain of Jake's eyes, the delicate blue and the piercing green, melding together with the richness of the gold. 

The whole situation is overwhelming, and Captain can't quite catch her breath. She hasn't dared to glance at anyone else in the room, especially not Jake. She is too afraid of what could possibly be seen behind his irises. 

"Spurs," Jake's voice breaks through, "Please say something,"

Jake rings his hands together, sweat slick, pulse thrumming through his fingers. He hates how this is happening. He hates that his future with his best friend is being planned for him. He hates that she almost doesn't have a choice, that neither of them can walk away form this fucked up situation all together. 

If Lizzy wasn't sick, then Captain could live her life however she wants. Jake could go to flight school, sleep around, find out who he is and claim his place in the world. But now? He is forced to see his best friend sitting in front of him, do doubt overwhelmed and aching. This wasn't how life was supposed to go. 

"Let me get this straight," Spurs pulls her eyes from the ring to meet her mother's. Her mother is blurred through tears, but she does the best to make eye contact anyway. 

"First off, you are dying," Captain counts the facts off on her fingers, "But you don't seem overly concerned about it," 

"I have had a full life, Captain, and now that I know you will be taken care of, I am at peace with the fact, yes," Lizzy's voice is so soft. It makes Captain want to cry harder. 

"Two," She turns to the Seresin's, "You want me to marry Jake?" 

The three nod, all content with their choice. 

"Can I talk to you outside?" Spurs turns to Jake, wiping at the tears that have threatened to escape her eyes. She gets up and heads down the hall without a word from Jake, but she knows that he is on her tail. He snags the ring box as he walks after her, shoving it into his back pocket. 

They step out into the evening air. Captain leans awkwardly against the wall beside the door, waiting as Jake steps out onto the porch. The moment the front door is closed, Captain is thrusting herself into his arms. This time, he sinks into her touch, his own arms winding around her body. 

The tears finally fall, sobs racking through her frame in the way that shattered glass hits pavement. It's all sharp and made of anger. Jake brings a hand up to her neck, pressing her cheek harder against the firmness of his chest. 

There hasn't been time for either of them to really look at each other. From touch alone, they know so much has changed. 

Jake brushes her hair over her shoulders.  It's shorter now, but still soft as it threads through his fingers. Her body fuller than the last time he saw her, he can tell from the way the softness of her stomach presses against his body and the way her strong arms wrap around his frame. The sweet scent of her shampoo swirls around his senses as he kisses the top of her head. 

Captain can feel Jake's newly toned muscles under her hands, under her cheek, against her stomach. The Navy has toned his body and now he feels different. Stronger, leaner, like a force to be reconned with. But he still smells just how she remembered, like the ocean wind right after a rain storm. 

So much has changed, but yet, they are still the same, even after it all. Best friends till the end. 

Jake shushes her sobs, his thumb rubbing over the back of her neck. His shirt is damp down, sticking slightly to his skin beneath it. He wishes that he could do more, comfort her better- but then he remembers that's exactly why he agreed to this damn thing in the first place; to take care of her. 

"Spurs," The name is mumbled into her hair, "I've got you, sweetheart, I've got you," 

His calming words do little to ease the tidal wave of feeling that is hitting Captain square in the chest. She feels like she is drowning, overtaken by grief over a situation she has no control over. 

"Ja-Jake," She hiccups, her fists wound into the back of his shirt. 

With everything, Captain has been too preoccupied to notice just how nice Jake is dressed. A deep blue pearl snap, complete with a delicate white polka-dot pattern is tucked into his best jeans. His brown belt match is well conditioned boots, the bolo tie around his neck complete with a beautiful silver slider, the Texas Star in the center. 

"Talk to me, Sweetheart," Jake coos, pulling her face from his chest. He is met with tear stained cheeks and red skin. He swipes his thumb lovingly over her cheek, streaking some tears across her face and into her hairline. 

"They aren't- they aren't joking, are they?" Captain snakes her hands down his body, grabbing ahold of the belt loops on either one of his hips. Her fingers are wedged between the thick leather of his belt and the denim straps, the constriction of her fingers grounding her to him. She pulls on the loops, trying to get his body closer, but they are already pressed chest to chest. She can feel her heartbeat all through her body, her fingertips feel like the are pulsing, ready to explode. 

"No, Sweetheart, they aren't. God, Spurs, I am so sorry," He takes her shoulders in his hands, combing his fingers down to her elbows and back up. She relaxes under his touch, looking up to his face for the first time since they exited the house.

"We aren't dating, hell, we've never even kissed! I don't think we have even come close to it, and they want us to jump into marriage head first without a fucking life preserver, huh?" There is a light bit of humor hiding beneath the sadness of her tone. 

Then, she catches Jake completely off guard when she laughs. 

The sound is so out of place in the somberness of the air around them. It's light, but not quite happy. Jake can't help but narrow his eyes at her, his full eyebrows pulling together, causing a deep wrinkle between them. 

"What's so funny?" Jake can't believe he is asking a question like that, given the week he has had. From finding out about Lizzy's prognosis to the marriage he is all but being thrust into, then having to keep it all a secret from his best friend, his nerves are rattled. 

"I don't think I've seen you this dressed up in years," She hums, laughter still undertowing her voice. She untangles a finger from his beltloop to run it down the pointed collar of his shirt. Her touch is barely there, but gooseflesh breaks out over Jake's skin like it's thirty degrees colder. "What are you so dressed up for, anyway?" 

"I couldn't rightfully ask my best friend to marry me in my uniform, now could I?" Jake can't help the chuckle that laces with his words. His chest rumbles a bit under Captains touch as she places her palm flat to his chest. 

"I guess not-" Her fingers trace over the star on his tie, "I dunno, guess even after the whole thing was all laid out, we didn't really have a choice. Didn't think you'd actually ask," 

"There is always a choice, Spurs, you know that," 

She waves a hand, attempting to dismiss his words as her fingers pass his shoulder. He holds onto her a bit tighter, like she might slip out of his grasp. 

"Are you serious about all this?" Her eye brow is quirked, "Or are you being forced into it?" 

"Like I said, there is always a choice," 

Hands wind around her waist again, holding her against his chest. Her cheek is pressed against firm muscle as he speaks again. 

"Your Mom and I went over the logistics of it. She was a lot better about it than my folks. You are going to need health insurance after she passes, and you are going to need a place to live. Plus, a support system. You have me already, and my family, but there is support within the military that can help you out if we are married," He explains, brushing his hands over her body. The motion is more to calm his nerves than it is to calm hers. Neither of them comment on it. "It doesn't have to be forever, but I want to be there for you. Looks like this is going to be the best way," 

Captain doesn't think about anything outside of this moment. The way she can hear Jake's heartbeat thumping against his ribcage, and the way his hands trial over her arms. She focuses on her breathing and the way everything seems to buzz around her. 

Maybe its all the information clogging up her brain, or maybe it's the impending grief she knows she is going feel, lingering over her like a hangover. Whatever it is, she doesn't exactly care to pinpoint it. Instead, she pushes Jake back just a bit, enough for her to look up into his swirling green eyes. 

"Alright," 

"Alright?"

"Let's do it, let's get married," The words sound more sure than she expected them to when they slip passed her lips. 

"Really?" He asks. She nods. "Okay,"

Then, Jake takes a step back, dropping down on to one knee. He pulls the purple velvet box from his back pocket, presenting it to her as he pulls it open. 

"Y/N "Spurs" "Captain" Jett, my forever best friend and honorary cow girl, will you do me the honor of becoming your husband?" Jake's voice wavers as he speaks, the tear he spots in her eye almost breaking him. 

"Yes, Jacob Samuel Seresin, I will marry you,"

They embrace, Jake still down on his knee, Captain meeting him there. He slips the ring from the box before taking her hand gently with his own. He guides the ring onto her finger before kissing the back of her hand. 

And so, the pair are engaged to be married under the amber glow of the broken porch light, next to the old scuff marks on the siding from misadventure of years past. 

TAG LIST

@inky-sun 

[saltsicklover]

Prologue - STCHT

Just a little blurb to get you introduced! Enjoy!

Title: Someone To Come Home To

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 200+

Rating: R

Warnings: Talk of Secrets, Swearing.

Best Friends to Lovers Romance! Marriage of Convenience!

Disclaimer: I do not own Jake Seresin, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

The Dagger Squad is good at keeping secrets- they make their living under Top Secret clearance, their fighter jets being a means to an end, really. They fly with a prayer on their lips, they compete their missions, make miracles, and come home. That's the job. 

They do it, and they do it well, because that is the job. From the moment the step onto that aircraft carrier, it no longer matters what they are leaving behind. They may fight for what's behind them, who is behind them, but none of that matters the second they step into that jet. All that mattered from that moment on was the mission, the job, the next step or twelve they had to take in order to get back home. 

Maybe that's why they have so many secrets. 

They tell people it's so information can't be tortured out of them- if they can keep their personal lives a secret, they can damn sure keep professional information from falling into the wrong hands. They say it's because they are just quiet people, they don't like their personal lives out in the open for anyone to see. Sometimes they even say it's so they can focus on the job. If no one is talking about home, there will be nothing to miss on mission, on deployment, or while they are stationed across the country. 

Those were never the real reasons. Each Dagger had their own. Nobody ever questioned each other until they became a permeant detachment out of San Diego and things that were once kept secret slowly began working their way out. 

[writingsbychlo]

Whats STCHT?

it’s one of my mitch works ‘someone to come home to’

[writingsbychlo]

Where can I find/read STCHT?

on my masterlist!