#jake x red

[callsigndragon]

Hold my hand | two

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Jenn Seresin (OFC) / Jake Seresin x Rowan "Red Queen" Jenkins (OFC)

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings: mentions of break up, mission stuff, 'basic fighter maneuvers' class, mentions of pregnancy, abortion, and two men being simps.

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Bradley can’t believe his luck. Not only does he have to deal with Hangman’s ass, but his ex-girlfriend is also part of the mission. And he wants to be mistaken, but he swears that the motorbike he saw in the parking lot is Maverick’s. 

Super secret mission and Maverick in the same place? The chances of him being involved in this are higher than he wants to admit. 

“Well, it seems like things haven't changed a lot. Hangman is still a dick, you are still in love with Jenn…” 

Bradley looks at Nat, rolling his eyes. “I don’t love Jenn.” 

Nat takes a sip from her beer and before leaving to talk with Jenn, she says. “Sure, and I have a secret child with Hangman.” 

He watches her walk away, noticing two pairs of eyes looking at him. Bradley makes eye contact with the object of his affection, the girl with the hazel eyes that he can still see when he falls asleep. He remembers how he used to spend hours studying those eyes, memorizing every color from green to brown, even the small golden drops near her pupil. 

“Valkyrie.” Rooster nods in her direction, wishing that he could walk closer and talk to her. But he didn’t have that right anymore. 

“Bradshaw.” 

That’s more than he expected, actually. The music gets louder. Whatever song Hangman has chosen is as obnoxious as he is. There’s a way of fixing this.

“Hey, check it out. More patches.” Fanboy says, looking at the new wave of pilots entering the bar. “The hell kinda mission is this?” 

Rowan looks around the room, pondering the answer to Mickey’s question. “That’s not the question you should be asking. Everybody here is the best there is. Who the hell are they gonna get to teach us?” 

“I think I know.” Jenn says, looking at the man who had been talking with Penny. He is the one paying for this round of beers they're having. “Have you ever heard of Maverick?” 

“Maverick Mitchell? The only man to shoot down three enemy aircraft in the last forty years?” Rowan asks, knowing that the man is not only an eminence, but a legend. 

“Yep. That one.” 

“And how can you know that he’s gonna teach us?” Fanboy takes a pool cue and moves closer to Bob. 

“Because he’s sitting at the bar.” 

All the aviators turn around, searching for the man that Valkyrie has been talking about. To their surprise, the man is looking at them, a silent confirmation that the old timer is going to be teaching them. 

Fanboy clears his throat and leaves the beer behind. “Well, what a way to make a great first impression.” 

“He knows that we’re the best,” Payback reminds his wizzo, patting him on the back. “Let’s have fun before the mission starts.” 

“Cheers to that.” Javy says, raising his beer. 

The music of the jukebox suddenly stops, and someone starts playing on the piano. Jenn doesn’t need to look to know who it is. She only knows two men so obsessed with that song. And one of them is the one playing it right now. 

Phoenix motions Fanboy, Bob, Payback, and Red to join them, leaving behind the Seresins and Javy. Jake groans, watching as Bradshaw gathers all the attention. Even Red’s.

“Always wanting to be the center of the party.” Jake sits next to Javy, watching as his sister doesn’t tear her eyes away from Bradshaw. “Jenn.” 

She doesn’t answer. 

“Jenn?” He insists, but still no answer. “Oh my god, not again.” 

Javy looks at his friend, sighing. “Val, he broke your heart once. Don’t give him the chance to do it again.” 

“I won’t.” She replies quickly, darting his eyes between the man talking to Penny and the man playing the piano. “I’m just thinking how long is it gonna take before Rooster snaps.”

“Why would he do that?” 

Jenn turns to look at Javy, wondering if she should answer or not. But she doesn’t really care about keeping Bradley’s secrets anymore. “Maverick is Rooster’s godfather. He flew with his old man.” 

Jake stands from his seat, ready to throw a myriad of questions when Penny rings the bell, and the crow starts chanting. 

“Overboard, overboard.” 

Javy and Jake look at each other. “Come on, let’s have some fun before things get serious.” 

Jenn watches how her small family, accompanied by Payback, carries Maverick to the door. They are going to regret that so much tomorrow. 

Next morning, they all stand on deck, saying hi to everyone. Jake watches Red from a distance, very interested in the pilot. She seems like the kind of girl who is friends with everyone and sees the good in people. And yet, she’s the best aviator of her generation. How those two personalities can coexist in the same body is something that Hangman doesn’t comprehend. But he’s willing to find out. 

“If you keep staring like that, you’re gonna burn a hole in the back of her head.” Jenn jokes, sitting next to his brother. “I never thought I’d see you fall for someone like that.” 

“I haven’t fallen for anyone, idiot.” Jake sighs, twirling a toothpick between his fingers. “Besides, you know that we’re not made to have those kinds of relationships.” 

Jenn lets her head fall forward, groaning at his words. “Don’t start with that again, please.” 

“Look, I’m just saying that none of us has ever had a proper relationship.” 

“Because we push everyone away, man. We’re not cursed or whatever you want to think.” She says, opening the F-18 manual in front of her. 

“You didn’t push away Rooster.” Jake mutters, knowing that he’s walking on thin ice. 

The brunette turns her head, throwing a warning look at her brother. “Careful, Jacob.” 

A few rows away, Rowan, sitting behind Phoenix and Bob, leans closer to the female. “Hey, Nat. Can I ask you a question?” 

“Yeah, sure!” She says, turning her chair around to look at Rowan. “What is it?” 

“Is Hangman that bad, or are you all exaggerating?” 

Phoenix looks at Bob, who just shrugs because he doesn’t know the male Seresin as much, and then turns to look at Red again. “Don’t tell me that you’re interested in him.”

Rowan looks at the siblings, engrossed in their conversation. “He’s hot.” 

“He’s an idiot.” 

Rowan chuckles, shaking her head. “Is he really an idiot? I think he just says what we all think but don’t say out loud.” 

"Well, that might be true, but do you know why we call him Hangman?” 

“Attention on deck!” 

The conversation dies as everyone snaps to attention. Cyclone and Warlock approach them, but it is the latter who steps into the podium and addresses all of them, explaining who he is, how he welcomes all of them to this special training detachment, and then goes on and on reminding them who they are the best. The elite. 

“That was yesterday. You’ve all spent your careers flying close air support for troops on the ground, with little to no air-to-air threat.” Warlock explains, watching as the smiles drop around the room. Jenn and Jake look at each other, smiling at the idea of having a little bit more action than usual. Rooster, however, looks like he’s regretting coming here. 

Warlock describes a new fifth generation aircraft owned by the enemy that has put an end to the technological advance that the US Navy had for years. 

“Success, now more than ever, comes down to the man or woman in the box.” 

Jake looks at Phoenix, winking at her and earning a middle finger from the female. Rowan, who sees the exchange, smiles a bit. Jake won’t ever admit it, but his heart might have just skipped a beat. 

“This mission,” Warlock continues, “requires four F-18 Echo solo pilots, and two Foxtrot dual seat teams. Half of you will make the cut, and half will remain in reserve.” 

“You can bet your ass that we will be on the final cut.” Jake mumbles to his sister, who only nods. 

“One of you will be named Mission Leader.” Rooster and Hangman share a glance. Fight’s on. 

Warlock moves on, now talking about the instructor and the experience he has. “His exploits are legendary, and he is considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. What he has to teach you may very well mean the difference between life and death. I give you Captain Pete Mitchell, call sign: Maverick.” 

The captain walks to the podium, F-18 manual in hand. Hangman squirms a bit in his seat, now thinking that acting like that towards his instructor maybe wasn’t as good an idea as he thought. 

“Good morning,” Maverick says to all of them, looking a bit longer in Rooster’s direction. “The F-18 NATOPS. It contains everything there is to know about your aircraft. What’s the load limit of the F–18?”

Jake answers immediately, always eager to seek out approval from his superiors. “7.5Gs. Section Four, Chapter Five.” 

Maverick nods, already thinking of the next question. “Max airspeed?” 

“Mach 1.8. Section Two, Chapter One.” Phoenix replies this time, not wanting to be less than Hangman. 

While Maverick keeps asking questions, Hondo stands next to Cyclone. “Sir. Bernie Coleman. They call me Hondo. I work with Maverick but, please, don’t hold it against me.” Hondo smiles, but Cyclone doesn’t. “I’ll stand somewhere else.” 

As he slinks away, Maverick points to Javy. “Lift limit?” 

“34 Alpha.” He answers. 

Now, Maverick points to Fanboy. “Maximum roll rate.” 

“Two hundred and twenty five degrees per second.” Mickey answers, very proud of himself. 

Now he points to Jenn, doubting for a second when he recognizes who she is. He shakes it off and asks her. “Maximum afterburner.” 

“42,000 pounds of thrust.” Jenn responds, quickly moving her eyes away from the instructor.

It’s awkward to answer these questions when the man asking them used to be at Bradley’s childhood home every Sunday when Goose and Carole invited Jenn over for dinner. She remembers how Bradley explained to her that he wasn’t on good terms with Maverick and his mom, as they both planned to pull his application for the Naval Academy. But Goose insists on having weekly dinners until ‘Bradley realizes that staying mad after all these years is not only a waste of time but also useless’. 

She wonders if Bradley has finally forgiven them. 

“Max rate of climb, everyone.” 

“Forty-five thousand feet per minute.” 

Maverick grabs the manual, looking at it for a second. “So you know the book. Inside and out. Along with the so-called limits of your aircraft.” 

All the aviators confirm that they do know it, not expecting their instructor to drop the book in the trash. “So does your enemy.” 

Jenn and Jake smile at the same time. At last, some action. “This is gonna be good.” 

Jake nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know who’s gonna be leader, but I can’t tell you now that Chicken Little doesn’t stand a chance.” 

“What the enemy doesn’t know,” the captain insists, gathering the attention of everyone. “is you. Your limits. I intend to find them. Test them. Push beyond… Flying faster than the speed of sound with one split second to make a life or death decision requires a level of trust, feel, and instinct that doesn’t exist in any manual.” 

And he says this, looking directly at Rooster. Something that goes unnoticed by almost every pilot on deck. 

Except for Jenn. 

Hours later, when Maverick initiates his ‘basic fighter maneuvers’ class, Jenn approaches the captain once Rooster, Fanboy, and Payback finish their turn. 

“Sir, there’s not enough Foxtrot teams for all of us.” 

Maverick looks at her. “It’s good to see you again, Jenn. I’m sorry that things didn’t work out with Rooster.” 

“Yeah… he kept saying things about my brother. Family is important for me, and he knew that.”

“I thought you two broke up because he-”

She clears her throat, looking around to make sure nobody can hear them. “I will prefer to keep things professional, sir.” 

Maverick nods, lookign at the floor for a second before answering her initial question. “Very well. You’ll fly with Red. I’m sure you two will make a good team.” 

Red, huh? It’s a good occasion to know more about her possible future sister-in-law. 

“Hey, Jenn.” Rowan says, looking at her once, that the two have arrived at the practice area. 

“Yes?” 

“How do two siblings end up working in the same squad?” She inquires, turning inside the box to look at the other pilot. 

“Well, I guess we worked together so well that they never separated us.” Jenn chuckles for a second and sighs. “But if you ask my brother, he will tell you that we’re just really good pilots, and they can’t go on without their best duo.” 

Red snorts, thinking for a few seconds if she wants to know more about Jake Seresin or not. “I don’t think he’s a bad guy.” 

“He’s not. He's a bit rough around the edges, and his mouth is bigger than his head, but he’s a good guy.” 

“You really love him, don’t you?” Red questions, but more than asking, she states it. It's easy to feel the connection the two siblings have. 

Jenn chooses her words carefully. She wants Red to know that her brother is a good person, even though everyone thinks otherwise. “I’m alive because of him.” 

“That sounds ominous.” 

“You’re gonna have to get me a drink if you want me to tell you the full story.” Jenn replies, looking around, trying to find the captain. 

“Deal. Where the heck is Maverick?” 

Jenn inverts her plane, observing the valley below them. She catches sight of him, he’s flying really low. “He’s down there.” 

“Let’s turn and burn, Val.” Red says, inverting her plane and diving to go after Maverick. 

“Congratulations, girls. You’re the first ones to find me.” Maverick says, trying to escape Red. 

“Someone had to prove that we are, actually, the best of the best.” Rowan teases, knowing that all the other pilots are listening to the conversation through the radio in the officer’s lounge. 

Jenn can practically see her brother rolling his eyes after that comment. 

After a fierce dogfight, Rowan and Jenn, both flying like their asses depend on it, place themselves behind Maverick’s plane. “What do you say, Val? Can we do this?” 

“Please, my queen. Do the honors.” 

Red chuckles and smiles when Maverick’s plane is in her gunsights. “That’s a kill.”

When Maverick hears the tone, he nods. “Copy kill. Seems like I have to do some pushups.” 

“You don’t have to, sir.” Red offers, feeling bad about her instructor. 

“Nah, a bet’s a bet. Two hundred pushups. And I’ll be counting.” Jenn smirks, pirouetting around while celebrating the victory. 

Back in the officer’s lounge, two men seem to be a bit more happy about this win than the other aviators in the room. 

“Rooster, please.” Phoenix groans, throwing an empty water bottle at his head. 

Rooster almost jumps from his seat. “Hey! What was that for?” 

Phoenix leans closer to him, whispering in his ear so that Jake can’t hear them. “You can’t keep fantasizing about a girl that will never return your feelings.”

“You don’t know that.” He retorts, clenching his jaw. Fuck, he doesn’t need anyone to remind him how fucked up he is. Denial is all that’s left for him. 

“Dude, you yelled at her in front of everyone because she got an abortion without telling you!” 

Rooster gets up from the chair, looking down at Natasha. “That was my baby, too.” 

“It wasn’t a baby. It was a 5 week old fetus.” 

“She never told me. Only found out because someone saw her walking out of the clinic.” Rooster complains, raising his voice.

“She didn’t need to tell you shit, Rooster. It was her body. Jenn didn’t want to have a baby. She wasn’t ready. She doesn’t need to ask for permission.” 

Rooster bites the inside of his cheek. He knows she’s right. He knows. But… he can’t stop imagining how their lives would have changed with a baby around. They would probably be married by now. Or maybe not. It’s difficult to know. “I wanted to have a family with her.” 

Natasha lets out a groan of pure exasperation. “Jenn didn’t want to start a family back then. It’s not that hard to understand, for fuck’s sake! You got her pregnant, she aborted. You yelled at her at base, in front of the fucking commander, Rooster. It was supposed to be a secret, but everyone at base knew that Bradley Bradshaw knocked up Jenn Seresin!” 

“You got my sister pregnant?” 

Rooster and Phoenix turn to look at Jake, whose hands are closing into fists. 

Seems like not everybody knew.

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

Taglist:

@shrimping-for-all

@purplevortexx

@emorychase

@xoxabs88xox

@books-are-escapes

@jynxmirage

@averyhotchner

@hosekiv

@endofdays56

[redfurrycat]

🔥 ⚽ 🐓 Doctor Mother Goose Bradshaw & Doctor Rooster Bradshaw AU 🐓⚽️🔥

*

AU in which Nick Bradshaw never went the RIO road, instead he became a Navy doctor and his first ever patient was one fighter pilot Pete "Maverick" Mitchell.

Friendship at first sight. When Mav ended up at the hospital because of his shenanigans, he got lectured by Dr. Mother Goose every. single. time.

*

At some point, the good doctor got to listen to a loopy Mav's impassioned speeches about a blonde ice cube.

He met said blonde pilot who once came to visit Mav with flowers.

Well, he was pushed into Mav's room, rather rudely, by his giant of a RIO.

"Huh. Blonde Ice Cube, I presume?"

"It's Mister Iceman to you doctor!"

"Oh. And you are?"

"Free for a coffee right now. I think it best to leave these two alone."

Thia is how Doctor Mother Goose met Hulking Guy. Instant meet-cute.

*

Many years later, his son Bradley became a doctor. Chief Dr Bradshaw loved to dump his idiot best friend into Dr Bradshaw's care.

"What did you do AGAIN, Mav?!".

Then Mav tried to justify himself but it's hard to resist Baby Goose's sad brown eyes. So, he always tried to be on his best behaviour. Only for his favourite godson though.

*

Of course one of Mav's precious Daggers had to be hospitalised because of a training accident.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin thought for a moment the accident was way more serious 'cause wasn't he seeing double?

"Wow. Are there two Dr. Mc Steamy & Dreamy Moustache? Wow. Lucky me. Coyote. Do you see that?! Wow. Do you do house visits in case I have a problem later? Yes or Yes?"

"OMG. Don't flirt with my father!"

"But you don't mind my flirting with you, I hope?"

"Nope. He doesn't mind. And he's single."

"OMG. DAD. Don't pimp me?!"

"Ah. You do your best Navy fighter pilot a great service. Much appreciated Older Dr Sexy."

"Uh-huh. I'm out of here. You got it, son?"

"Ooooooh. Dad and son? Nice."

"Oh my god."

"Jake's fine for you, Sugar."

*

UPDATED!

[Art Commission drawn by the very talented @enthyrea 💖]

[thirstworldproblemss]

Fic: Closer

cowritten with @astroboots

Fandom:  Moon Knight Pairing:  Jake Lockley x F reader (x Steven, x Marc) Length:  5.6k words Rating: Explicit 🔞 Warnings:  This fic contains explicit sexual content including dirty talk, spitting, anal play, and anal sex. (That's it. That's the fic.)

Summary: Jake checks an item off his bucket list, and you both thoroughly enjoy yourselves.

Notes: Many thanks to @guruan who fixed our my extremely questionable Spanish (any remaining mistakes are entirely my fault) and whose deliciously debauched art is a never-ending source of inspiration. More thanks (and uh... oh god, sorry 🙈) to the poor anon who submitted the prompt that spawned this to Cici last Kinktober and had to wait a whole year to see the damn thing. And, of course, ALL my love to my darling cowriter and 🤡💖🤡 sister, @astroboots, who always makes writing a joy, and without whom this never would have been started, finished, or posted at all.

[ twp’s Masterlist  | boots' Masterlist  ]

Jake hasn’t spent a lot of time in the driver’s seat over the years. For a long time he only fronted on rare occasions. Life or death situations mostly. Those hair-trigger moments when the body is in critical danger and a moment’s hesitation is all it’d take for all three of them to wind up dead. 

Those times when things are too much for Marc or Steven to be able to handle? That’s when it’s Jake’s turn at the wheel. 

It’s why normally the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, in command of the body, is the source of imminent danger: 

The face of the man who has a knife pressed against the collar of his military uniform in the middle of a desert. 

A panoramic view through the windshield of a truck that is seconds from veering off a winding cliff-side road. 

A long-haired Jim Jones wannabe staring down at him along a glowing walking stick protruding from his own chest. 

But things have been different lately. For one thing, he’s been spending a lot more time fronting, and not just in dangerous situations. 

For another, he’s learning that there’s so much more world out there than he’d ever imagined. There’s Ben & Jerry’s peanut popcorn flavored ice cream, Saturday karaoke nights, Derby Girls and you. 

Always you.

You were just Steven’s girl first, and then somehow against all odds Marc got involved too, and now that Jake’s been allowed a taste, he's never letting you go. You’re his guide to the wide world,  the road map keeping him on the right route, the safe resting place when he’s tired. Su alma, his soul.

And right now you look exhausted. Your thighs shaky and trembling, matted hair glued to your forehead, all of you dripping with sweat and other things. Steven must have really worn you out before he ceded the front. 

Sweet, shy little Steven—Mr. Sunshine—who just fucked you seemingly within an inch of your life before he remembered that he needs to share. 

And Marc thinks Jake is the unhinged one. 

The punch of adrenaline that always comes with fronting is still running through his veins, and he’s already hardening at the sight of you on your stomach, ass up in the air on display for him, Steven’s come just beginning to drip out of you. It doesn’t matter that the body just came, it’s Jake’s turn now. 

He slides his rapidly stiffening cock through your slippery folds, nudging the head against your clit, you and him both slick and sloppy with Steven's come and your own wetness.

“Aaah – Jake,” you gasp sharply into the pillow.

You know it’s him. He doesn’t know how. You haven’t even turned around to look at him, but somehow you just know. You always know. It’s an uncanny magic trick that impresses the hell out of him every time.

Jake grips one side of your ass in his free hand, squeezing hard. You’re all smooth skin and soft flesh under his finger, your cute little asshole peeking up at him. You’d kill him if he’d called it that out loud. So he doesn’t. He bites his tongue, swallowing down the groan that’s simmering in his throat at the sight of you.  

He can't resist sliding his thumb over that little pucker. He barely even brushes over you when you let out a pretty gasp for him. His cock is fully hard now, and it jerks against you at the sound, so he does it again, just to see if you’ll make the same noise twice. You do. 

Then you moan, sharp and keen, and he has to pull back, hand sliding over his slick length once before he leans in and replaces his thumb with the head of his cock. Taking his time, he slides it along the curve of your ass before nestling himself snugly between your cheeks. He makes an absolute mess as he goes, smearing the shiny slick left by Steven all over your bare skin until everything is a glistening sheen under the dim light as he begins to thrust forward, sliding his cock between the valley of your cheeks. 

Jake's dreamed of taking you here. He wants to take every fucking hole you have, fill you up and cover you with his come until it's dripping off of–out of every inch of your body.

Mierda. Even just the thought of it has heat climbing his spine, and his cock jerks in his fist and spitting even more precome into the mess already covering your spine and the rounded curves of your ass. 

He thrusts against you again, fucking himself between your cheeks, and you mewl quietly, pressing back against him. Maybe he won’t even fuck your pussy this time. Maybe he’ll just stay right here and rub his cock on your gorgeous ass until he comes all over it. Add to Steven’s mess with one of his own. He’ll do it. And reach around and rub your clit so you come too.

Maybe if he can get you used to the idea of his cock rubbing against your ass, maybe one day you’ll let him put it inside too. 

"You can, you know," you mumble out into the pillows, and Jake freezes, heat streaking down to his balls, and he has to grip himself hard at the base to avoid painting your ass with his come right then and there. 

Shit, did he say that out loud? He’s pretty sure he didn’t. He must have heard you wrong. Or he misunderstood. You can't possibly be offering what he thinks you are. 

"You can try putting it in. I might ask you to stop if I don't like it, but..." you your knees slightly, and the move has your ass practically wiggling at him in temptation, "It feels good right now."

Jake's brain stalls out. His body flashes hot all over. The back of his neck is tingling. He squeezes the base of his cock so hard he thinks he might be in danger of doing permanent damage, but he'll be damned if he comes on your ass right now when he’s just been told he might get to come in it. 

Gritting his teeth, Jake breathes through his body’s urge to come, pushing down the near-overwhelming need to shove his cock into your tight little asshole immediately. He knows he has to prep you if there's going to be any chance of you enjoying this, and he needs you to enjoy it because he wants to be able to do it again (and again and again and...) 

Shit. He needs to get on with it, or he's going to finish before he even makes it inside.

Jake makes himself let go of his aching cock, leaves it bobbing and dripping in midair, and turns his focus on you.

Leaning closer, he uses both hands to pull your ass cheeks apart, and just looks at you for a minute, watching your body clench around nothing.

"You want me to fuck you here, sweetheart?" he demands, sticky thumb sliding down through the mess of your slick and Steven’s come to circle your puckered hole, almost but not quite touching it, "Gonna let me put my cock inside this tight little hole and fill it up with my come?"

You whine, your whole body shivering under him, and he grins, satisfaction buzzing in his veins when your hips cant further up, trying to get him to touch you.

It’s fucking adorable is what it is. He is starting to understand why Marc likes to edge you now. How could he not? You’re always so reactive and needy when you’re denied. You make it so fun to tease. 

Sliding his thumb down, he slicks it around and around, just to watch you whine and shiver and shift, hips chasing his touch. His dick jerks with every noise you make and every time your body visibly clenches.

As fun as this is, a bright delight humming in his chest at your every little reaction, Jake doesn’t have the patience to tease you for long. 

He’s not like Marc. El Jefe seems to have infinite patience when it comes to this, but it’s only a minute or two before Jake can’t wait any longer. He feels like he’s going to jump out of his skin if he doesn’t get inside you one way or another. So he stops, holding his hand still to let you “catch” him.

When you do, he sucks in harsh breath, heat punching through him as he watches you rub yourself against his thumb, heart rate spiking as you lean back, the tip of his thumb pushing inside just a little.

It's barely anything, but the feeling of you parting to let his his thumb slips inside, then squeezing him back out is addictive. He presses harder, wanting more. His thumb slides a bare inch inside, and his groan barely covers the strangled sound you make, body tensing under him. 

Sweat breaks out on his forehead along with the realization that he cannot fuck this up. 

"Alright, mi alma?" he asks, trying to sound sweet and gentle, but his voice, low and eager, betrays him. A starving wolf in a sloppy sheep disguise. He’s not fooling anyone, not himself and certainly not you. 

Reigning himself in as best as he can, his fingers close into a fist with tight tension blaring in every nerve. Then he unfurls his palm to pet his hand over your back and down your side to give your ass a gentle squeeze. 

“Do you  need me to stop?" 

"N-no," comes the shaky answer, and Jake thanks any gods who might be listening, "It feels a bit odd, but..." you squeeze around his thumb, hot and unbelievably tight, and Jake swears under his breath, "It’s a good odd, I think. Just– just give me a moment."

You shift slightly, clenching again, and his cock jerks and throbs like the nerves of his thumb have somehow been reattached directly to his aching length. He really fucking doesn’t want to come before he even gets inside you, but right now he’s not sure if that’s in the cards for him.

Then you push back against him, and his thumb slides in another half inch, and both of you gasp. He pulls out slightly and risks a small thrust back inside. He's rewarded by another gasp and a small moan, so he does it again, a little further this time, and this time the moan is louder.

Fuck, you look so good like this, ass all slick and slippery. Before he even knows what he’s doing, Jake leans forward, spitting onto the curve of your ass right above where his thumb is inside you. 

You jerk when it lands on your skin, and he likes that. Likes that even though he’s done it before it always seems to take you by surprise. Likes how his spit  looks on your skin too, shiny and slick as it slides down the crack of your ass to join the rest of the mess he’s smeared there. Likes that when he pushes it into your tight little asshole, it’s one more way that he can be inside you, make you a little bit more his in a way that will linger after he’s no longer with you.

You whine as he pulls his thumb all the way out, he spits again, hitting his target, directly on your pretty little asshole, then he presses in again, shoving more of his spit into you.

Like most things when it comes to how he feels about you, Jake doesn’t entirely understand why he likes this so much. It’s primal, somehow, a deep-seated need to mark you with himself–his spit, his scent, his come.

His cock is aching, throbbing in time with the way you clench every time he pushes his thumb into you. Jake can't stand it, has to wrap his free hand around himself, gripping as hard as he dares, and stroking slowly. He grits his teeth against how good it feels, red hot pleasure searing up his spine as he leans in to slide the head of his overwrought, leaking cock along your ass, right next to where his thumb is shoved inside. 

"You feel how hard you make me?" he demands, pressing himself against you, relishing the way you shift and moan again, body still squeezing around his thumb, but loosening with every passing moment as you relax. It also has the added benefit of his precome dripping down to lubricate things even more as he thrusts into you a little deeper each time. "Fuck, I can't wait to get inside this tight little hole. You gonna let me in, mi alma?"

"Yes, yes, Jake! Please!" you cry out, only partially muffled where your face is pressed into the pillows, and he damn near loses it again. Has to press his cock against you hard, almost to the point of pain as fire licks out along his nerves, threatening to send him over the edge.

"You want this cock in your ass right now?" he grits out, vaguely aware that he should probably spend more time prepping you, stretching you so you can take him easier, but he can't wait another fucking second.

He pulls back, pulls his thumb out, and you whine out his name Jake, Jake, Jake as you push your ass up and back, chasing his touch.

He looks down to see a blur of movement between your legs, and realizes that at some point you shoved a hand underneath yourself to rub at your clit.

It’s pure impulse. He doesn’t think. Before he even realizes what he's about to do, Jake’s hand flashes out, coming down on your ass with a sharp crack that sends your flesh jiggling in an all-too-appealing way. 

You cry out, sharp and high-pitched, but Jake knows from experience that it's a cry of shock, not of pain, and he quickly follows up on his advantage.

"Naughty naughty, sweetheart,” he scolds, “Who said you could touch yourself?" 

You freeze, obviously caught, and several seconds tick by where he watches approvingly as the mark left on your supple skin from the impact of his hand shades into a darker hue before you whine again, "Please, Jake. I need– I need–"

That's more like it. 

"Pobrecita," he croons to you, enjoying the way you relax at his gentle tone, "Do you need more?"

You nod into the pillow.

He leans in and smacks his cock against the same place his hand struck. You jolt, letting out the hottest fucking sound, so he does it again, and has to grit his teeth against the noise that wants to escape him at the sensation.

"You want this cock, mi alma?" he demands, voice harsh,  "You want me fuck your ass with it right now?"

"Yes. Yes, Jake. Fuck, please. YES!" you pant out, sounding as desperate as he feels. You’re pressing back against him, hips shifting so you can press that pretty little hole right against the tip of him, acting for all the world like you're going to fuck yourself back onto his cock if he doesn't give it to you fast enough.

It's a heady feeling, to hear you beg for him, and part of him wants to hear you do it again, and again and again. To leave you there, begging for him as you struggle to fuck yourself on him. Lucky for you, he is nothing like Marc. 

"All you had to do was ask, mi alma," he grates out as he begins a slow press forward, "All you ever have to do is ask, and I'll give you the world."

Your body yields to him, the head of his cock slipping inside, and he has no more words. Only a strangled groan to match your whine as you clamp down hot and impossibly tight around him.

A sparkling clarity descends, time dilating, stretching out the way it does when he's in the middle of a fight, and he can only be grateful because he's barely clinging to his composure by the tips of his fingers here.

One truth stands out above everything else: he can't hurt you. 

He has to go slow, keep control, make it good for you. 

Jake wraps an arm around you, fingers tangling with yours to rub desperate circles around your clit, and he breathes a sigh of relief when you relax slightly under and around him. Still he doesn't move, not sure if he can without losing it and pumping you full of his come right then and there.

It's only when your hips start to move, hitching forward against his fingers, and then back to fuck yourself a little farther onto his aching cock that he dares draw in another breath, dares to meet your movements with small thrusts of his own, fucking in a little further each time.

And you take him just like that, little by little. One slow press, one torturous inch at a time, until he's buried as deep in you as he can go. 

"Fuck. Jake," you gasp out, clenching hard around him, and he groans. 

He makes the mistake of looking down at where you’re stretched tight around the base of his cock, taking every fucking inch he has to give, and the sight hits him like a punch to the gut. His hips stutter forward involuntarily, and somehow you take him even deeper.

You make a strangled sound, clamping down so tight it borders on the painful, and he freezes, shuddering behind you.

"¡Mierda! ¿Estás bien?" he demands, has to stop and mentally scramble for the words before he can ask again in English, "You okay, mi alma? Shit, did I hurt you?" 

"N-no. I'm okay," you pants out in response, "You can– You can move, Jake. Please. Need you to mo–"

Before you even finish the sentence, he’s already pulling out and easing back in. It’s a tight fit, your body hugging him so snugly that nothing else would fit. 

Lento, he reminds himself, gently. Not too fast. Gritting his teeth against the demands of his body, he presses himself in and out of you as slowly and carefully as he can manage, and he tries to keep his fingers moving on your clit. His free hand grips your hip, fingers digging in until he’s sure it must be painful, but he can't make himself let go.

You whine, writhing under him as he inches back into you.

"Jake," you pant out, nearly sobbing his name, "Jake, Jake," and he slows further, worried that it's too much.

"No!" you cry out suddenly, and Jake freezes on instinct, holding still as you prop yourself up on one elbow, turning your upper body sharply to one side so you can glare at him over your shoulder, "Don't bloody stop. I want you to fuck me."

The words hit him like a blow, knocking the air out of him, and the determined look on your face stabs him right in the heart, his whole chest pulling tight. 

"You've been so patient, Jake,” you cajole him, “and it's good. Better than I thought it would be. I want you to stop holding back. Fuck my ass for real. Let go, Jake."

Fuck, he loves you so fucking much. The feeling is so big, he doesn't know how his body can contain it. He wants to move mountains, conquer the fucking world just so he can lay it at your feet. He'd give you anything. 

But the only thing you're asking for right now is his cock, and that he’s just as desperate to give you as you are to take it.

He pulls out slowly, one… last… controlled… withdrawal, then he slams into you so hard it drives you forward across the bed away from him. Digging both hands into your hips, he yanks you back to him, back onto his cock.

"Like this?" he asks as he pulls out and slams into you again,  "You want it hard? Like this, mi alma?"

"Yes– Fuck– Yes–" you gasp out between harsh thrusts, "Ja-Jake!"

His name breaking on your lips is the sweetest fucking sound he’s ever heard in his entire life, and it severs the last threads of Jake's control. He lurches forward with a roar, driving himself into your tight little ass over and over again, as hard and fast as he can go. 

The force of it knocks you off your elbows, flattening you into the bed, but Jake just yanks you back, repositioning his knees as your hands scrabble uselessly at the sheets.

Every thrust is deep and relentless, burying himself inside you as deep as your body will let him, giving you as much of him as you can take. Until his hip bones are pressed flush against your ass, until his cock is buried inside you to the root, until every inch of him is enveloped by you. 

He's so lost in the feel of you, he doesn't realize he’s fucked you all the way across the bed until you're precariously balanced on the edge of the mattress.

Your knee goes first, slipping sideways off the bed mid-thrust, and it's enough to pull him off balance and send you both tumbling to the floor. 

Instinct takes over, and before Jake even has a chance to consciously register what’s happening, he’s already twisting, shielding your body so that he takes the brunt of the fall. He winds up hitting the hardwood ass-first before coming to rest with his head against the nightstand and you in his lap. 

Miraculously, you’re still connected, the force of the fall shoving you down on his cock farther than ever before, the feeling of being lodged so far inside your tight ass more than enough to overwhelm the slight pain in his tailbone from the fall.

There's a moment of stunned silence, then you start shaking, trembling in his arms, shoulders vibrating against him. He has half a second to worry that he’s fucked up badly enough to make you cry before a loud, bright sound rings out in the room. 

You’re laughing. Oh thank fuck.

"Oh my god, Jake! You just fucked me off the bed, quite literally. That's definitely a first!" you exclaim, twisting around to giggle down at him, eyes crinkled with amusement, mouth curved in an open, full-toothed smile. Jake has a handful of seconds to marvel at how beautiful you are before you shift in his lap, your body clamping down around him, and any last lingering shreds of control he might have been clinging to are gone.

Jake lifts his hips, fucking up into you, and watches your eyes go wide, a gasp falling from your lips.

It's not enough.

He grabs your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh and rolls to his knees, and your gorgeous laughter dissolves into a broken cry of surprise as he drags you with him. The sound melts into a long drawn out moan that has the tip of his ears tingling. He can’t think, all he can do is keep going as he fucks forward into you again, his chest tight against your back as he forces you down onto all fours so he can keep fucking you. 

Fuck. The wood floor is hard and uncomfortable under his knees, digging into his kneecaps. He knows it must be worse for you with his weight bearing down on you, but he can't make himself stop. 

He's been dreaming about taking you this way for so long, and now he finally gets to. He knows, he knows he should stop and check on you, should move the two of you back up onto the bed where you'll be more comfortable, but that pretty little ass is stretched around him so perfectly, tight and hot around him, and his need is riding him hard.

Heat prickles from the tip of his fingers, spreading along the nerve endings along every patch of skin, fuck. It’s everywhere, expanding across the span of his chest, pooling in his abdomen, gripping into his lungs. He can’t breathe. Can’t stop. Can’t–

"Lo siento," he stutters out. "I'm sorry, mi alma. I can't– I have to–" Words leave him, and all he can do is pant against your neck as his hips jerk into you with increasingly sloppy thrusts. 

His end is approaching fast, whether he wants it to or not, and he barely has the presence of mind to shove a hand underneath you, rubbing desperate circles over your clit with fingers gone clumsy with need.

He has to make it good for you. He has to. He has to– 

Por fortuna, it only takes a minute for you to tense underneath him, sobbing out his name and tightening around him so forcefully that he can't keep thrusting, his cock locked in place by the tight clench of your body.

The lack of movement is enough to stave off his own orgasm, but just barely, the pleasure is overwhelming, teasing at the tip of his tongue as you shudder underneath him and you flutter rhythmically around his cock. It's so similar to being inside your pussy when you come, but it's different too. The pulse of your pleasure there squeezing him so tight it's nearly painful, but its so, so fucking good.

He breathes through it, pressing open-mouthed, panting kisses against the skin of your back. Does his best to keep his fingers moving on your clit, trying to prolong the moment for you, to draw you pleasure out as long as he can. He wishes he could see your face. 

Next time, he promises himself. Face-to-face next time, so he can watch every expression you make as he fucks you full of himself and see the pleasure break across your face when you come with his cock lodged deep inside.

All too soon, you're collapsing forward onto one elbow, your other hand shoving at his where it's buried between your legs, and he lets you push his hand away, planting his palm on the ground next to your head. 

You turn weakly to look up at him, pulling partially off of his dick as your body sags like you can’t keep yourself up. 

"Are you ready, mi alma?" he grits out, dimly aware that he's shaking as he braces himself above you, "Ready for me to fuck this tight little ass full of my come?"

"Mmm," you hum, sweet and contented under him, "yes, please."

That's all Jake needs to hear.

He slams his hips forward into yours, and the force of the first thrust knocks you forward off your elbow, your chest meeting the ground as you half-collapse under him. 

Jake follows you down without stopping, fucking into you hard. You sink a little further towards the floor with each thrust until you're flat on your stomach, but Jake still doesn't stop. He can’t, though he's sure he must be flattening you. Doesn't think he could stop if his life depended on it

He's grinding into you now with increasingly sloppy thrusts, burning heat burrowing into the base of his spine as he holds back his orgasm by sheer will, slurring out endearments against the back of your shoulder.

“Mi alma. Mi vida. Reina de mi corazón.”

And you are. His soul. His life. The queen of his heart. You are all of that and more. His gorgeous, perfect love, taking him, all of him, exactly as he is.

"Do it," you say from underneath him, and reality seems to recede, his vision tunneling in on your lips as they shape the words that just might kill him.

"Fill my ass up with your come. Fuck it into me as deep as you can. I'm yours, Jake."

Jake's orgasm crashes into him like an unexpected switch. Like a bomb going off. Like a knife sliding between his ribs, sharp and sudden. Pleasure sears though every inch of the body that has never felt more like his than it does at this moment, his forehead pressing against the warm skin of your back as he empties himself inside you in pulse after pulse of aching release. 

By the time the last shuddering spasm subsides, Jake feels wrung out like a bloody rag. He barely manages to avoid collapsing on top of you, mustering just enough strength to roll the two of you to the side so that he’s no longer squishing you. Pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he carefully pulls out, then pulls you back against his chest, curving his body around yours, and the two of you lay cuddled together like that for a long moment.

Eventually, his strength returns, along with the awareness that the floor he’s holding you on is both hard and probably not all that clean given Steven’s penchant for pouring sand all over. You deserve better. He gets up first, and carefully helps you rise to standing, waiting a moment to be sure you’re steady on your feet, before guiding you gently into the bathroom. 

When he flips on the bathroom light, the shadow of his reflection in the small round mirror transforms into a flushed, wide-eyed Steven who mumbles, “That was… God, that was… ” 

He doesn’t seem to be able to find the words. Jake’s not sure he could either, but Mr Sunshine doesn’t need to know that, so he just shoots the mirror a smug smile and tips an imaginary cap in that direction before he moves to turn on the shower.

You shiver a little when he steps away from you, so once the water is running, he wraps both arms around you, encouraging you to lean against him while you wait for it to get warm. You do, wrapping one arm around his waist in return and curling into his chest like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

Jake just watches you. Tilting his head back and slightly to the side to get a better angle, he lets his eyes roam over your face, taking in the soft curve of your cheek, the eyelashes feathered against the soft skin there nod that your eyes have fluttered closed, the hand you’ve settled against his chest, right over his heart, the way your lips curve up into a slight content smile. 

You’re beautiful.

You always are, but right now, something about this moment makes Jake’s chest tight. It steals his breath as surely as if there were hands wrapped tight around his neck, choking the life out of him.  But instead of stealing his life, it’s as if you’re giving him more of it, pumping him full of its essence, filling his chest until he doesn’t know how his body can contain the feelings you inspire in him. 

The bathroom is getting warmer, steam starting to form on the mirror, but Jake is loath to relinquish his hold on you. You seem equally uninterested in leaving him. You’re snuggled contentedly into his chest, but the way you slump lower and looser with each passing second tells him that he needs to get you moving fast, before you fall asleep standing up. “Water’s warm,” he tells you, and you hum sleepily against his chest. It’s so, so tempting just to carry you back to bed, but he knows you’ll be happier if you’re clean.

“C’mon, mi alma. Into the shower. Vamos.”  He herds you gently backwards until you’re standing under the spray.

You hum sleepily up at him without opening your eyes, and he’s worried for a moment that he’s lost you to sleep already, but you stay standing when he cautiously releases you.

Reaching for your soap, he quickly lathers up a washcloth. The smell of the soap—the smell of you—quickly permeates the small space, and he breathes deep, letting the familiar scent wash over him.  He runs the cloth gently over your shoulders,  taking extra care with the still-visible bite mark one of them left there, then down over your chest. The skin of your breasts is soft and warm under his fingertips, and he’s half tempted to try for another round, but he feels strangely protective of your soft sleepiness.

Instead he dutifully rinses you off, letting the water cascade over your body. 

You blink your eyes open long enough to shoot him another warm, sleepy smile, and the contentment in his chest seems to expand, taking root and spreading with every breath until it feels almost too large for the small space of the shower. 

He steps out, reaching for a towel, and drys you off gently, before doing the same to himself with much less care.

Then he carries you back to bed and tucks you in, doing his best to straighten out the wrinkly covers before pulling them up over both of you. Curling his body around yours, he holds you tightly to him. There are a lot of things in this world Jake can do without, has done without. But this– you are no longer on that list.

In the cozy warmth of the bed with your body pressed against his, his eyes feel heavy. Jake never used to fight to stay in the driver’s seat, not once the excitement was over. But he clings to consciousness now. He wants to prolong this moment when his vision is filled, not with yet another threat to body, life or limb, but with something altogether perfect: the sight of you drifting off to sleep, your head nuzzling into the pillow, a slight smile on your face… safe. 

It’s the last thing he sees as he falls into a deep, restful sleep. .

Thanks for reading!

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[bigsoulbeliever]

[9uicks]

🙇‍♀️The red shirt👀

[sosofiaplay]

Rascunhos liberados

[randomrdr2lover]

sadie adler is not a lesbian (let me explain why)

it's evident that sadie is struggling with immense sadness after the loss of jake, their relationship was one of true love, and it's certain they weren't in a lavender marriage. in the 1890s, couples were known to have strong bonds, just like jake and sadie did - their love was pure, and they shared their workload equally. It's a testament to the power of love that they were able to build such a fulfilling relationship. as equals and shared the work they had. yeah some husbands could be assholes but jake and wasn't, sadie speaks of jake as an amazing husband and a good honest man, she clearly loved him and i doubt she would just leave to go off with abigail, which abigail was already in some sort of "relationship" with john, and had a son, not to mention they were outlaws, it was uncommon for romance to happen or anything to occur since they were constantly on the run from police, bounty hunters, and rival gangs.

that reminds me - sadie risked her life to avenge jake and to get revenge on the o'driscolls, it's not clear what they did to sadie, but it's implied a few times in the game that she was raped. she clearly had a lot of things going on, and was most likely not in the mood to date anyone, not a man, not a woman. and sadie would have to remarry if she wanted to get with abigail - since girlfriends or boyfriends weren't a thing yet in the late 19th century, it was only marriage, and as i said before - she wasn't in the mood to date or remarry, so it's unlikely she loved anyone else. she talks about jake briefly, sometimes in chapters 1-2 you can greet her and she will mention jake, and in the epilogue as well, she also mentions him in chapter 6 and i remember hearing some dialogue from her in chapters 3-4, it went along the lines of: "yeah.....i miss my jake every day." in a broken and scratchy voice. and obviously she talks about him in the very first mission of the game.

she doesn't talk about jake all the time, but there is times she will, and it's evident she misses him and loved him like absolute hell, and was willing to die for him.

[nox140497]

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[callsigndragon]

Hold my hand | One

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x OFC / Jake Seresin x Red

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of cancer, death, more death, someone's mom is a whore, the seresins had a shitty childhood... and then all fluffy and lovey dovey stuff!

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Eighteen. Jake was eighteen. Jenn was sixteen. It wasn’t the best idea. Heck, it wasn’t even an idea. It was just a choice. A choice made in a moment of need: Jake protecting Jenn while she ran upstairs to pack her things. 

Jake had been waiting for that moment since he was 10. Since the day their father died. Cancer was a bitch, and the Seresins had a taste of it. Tom, the human shield that kept the siblings safe from their mother, was gone. And for the next 8 years, Jake counted the days left until they could run away from that house. 

The day had come. 

“Where do you think you’re going, Jacob? You are not enough. You don’t know how to do anything!” Janine spat, tumbling around the living room and spilling the contents of her black mug—the one that was supposed to be used for coffee but that she filled with any alcoholic liquid she could find. “Nobody will love you. Nor you or your sister. That fucking whore. She’s a needy bitch, going around begging for some attention, and will end up pregnant like a cow before she turns twenty!”

Jake could hear Jenn running downstairs with tears in her eyes. How could her own mother talk about her like that? “If you hated the idea of becoming a mother so much, you shouldn’t have gotten pregnant in the first place!” 

“We are not the same, mother. Just because you don’t know how to do anything, it doesn’t mean I can’t learn.” Jake replied, taking a few steps back. She was the only person he was afraid of. 

“You don’t have money. You don’t know how to do anything! What are two little pieces of shit like you gonna do out of this house? You might as well give up. Kill yourselves and end my suffering.” The woman threw the mug over Jake’s head, missing Jenn by a hair. 

“I will wait until Jenn turns 17, and then we’ll join the Naval Academy. Like dad did.” Jake clenched his jaw, stopping the feelings flooding his mind at the thought of his late father. 

“You don’t have the guts!” 

“You’re just afraid of ending up alone. But we’re gonna walk out that door, and we won’t have to see your face again.” Jenn cried, choking up on her tears, feeling a mixture of anxiousness and impatience. 

And they did. They walked out. They never looked back. 

They took the reins. 

Jake parks his truck outside the Hard Deck, a bar that used to be the center of his world when he was a student at Top Gun. It’s been a while since those days. 

“Hey, isn’t that Javy’s car?” 

Jenn raises her head and looks at the black Chevrolet Impala parked next to them. “Holy shit, it is his car. Look, the little duck I bought him for Christmas.” 

Jake turns off the engine and gets off the truck, slamming the door behind him. “He came here and didn’t tell us?” 

Jake raises an eyebrow, pointing a finger at him. “Jay, you came here and didn’t tell him either.” 

“Because it’s a secret detachment” 

“And there you have your answer.” Jenn rolls her eyes, getting inside the bar and marveling at the ambience, the smell, and the homely, inviting atmosphere that reigns over the place. She never had called a place ‘home’, but she knows that this could be the closest thing to it. 

“Well, well, look at that! Javy Machado in the flesh.” 

“Valkyrie! Oh my goodness, we’re working together again?” Javy says, leaving his beer at the bartop and hugging the female. “Where’s the ugly Seresin?” 

“Right behind you.” Jake reveals, patting Coyote’s back and chuckling. “Please don’t flirt with my sister, it would be awkward.” 

“I’m not flirting!” Javy fusses, sitting down and gesturing to Penny, the owner, to bring two more beers. “This has to be a hell of a mission if we are here.” 

“Only the best of the best, Coyote.” Jenn raises her beer, the two men do the same, toasting for them and the future mission. 

“Do you think someone else might be joining us?” Jake asks, occupying the seat next to Javy’s. 

“We’re only three, and we don’t have a wizzo… We need another pilot with a back-seater.” Jenn adds, turning to the pool table and preparing the table so they can play. “Maybe Phoenix?” 

Jake thinks about it for a second. “Yeah… You can’t have a special secret mission only for the elite and not call her.” He looks at the flabbergasted expressions of the other two pilots and points at them with his index finger. “Don’t tell her I said that.” 

“She wouldn’t believe us even if we tried.” Javy jokes, grabs a pool cue, and gets ready to play. 

A few minutes pass, the three pilots absorbed by their game, until four more pilots join them, Phoenix at the head of the group. “What do we have here! If it ain’t Phoenix!” 

Jenn smiles when she sees Nat and looks with curiosity at the other three of them. She reads their names on the badges. Fitch, Garcia, and Jenkins. Jenkins kind of rings a bell, but she doesn’t remember why. 

“And here I thought we were special, guys. Turns out the invite went to anyone.” Jake teases, sitting in the pool, watching the newcomers' faces. He goes from Phoenix to the two men, but his eyes stop when they notice Jenkins’ eyes. They have to be the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen. Dark blue irises look at him, but he gets lost in the hazel ring around her pupils. Her eyes look like galaxies, and he fears that he might get lost in them if he stares too long. 

“Fellas,” Phoenix says, making Jake stop staring at the female pilot. “this here’s Bagman.” 

Jenn snorts, and Jake glares at him. “Hangman.” 

“Whatever.” Phoenix turns a bit, looking at the other three aviators. “You’re looking at the only other Naval Aviator on active duty with a confirmed air-to-air kill.” 

Jake smirks, faking modesty. “Stop. You’re gonna make me blush.” 

“Mind you, the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean War.” Phoenix adds, looking at Hangman with her head tilted. How much she loves to tease him. 

“Cold war.” Jenn and Javy correct her at the same time. It might be an old plane, but it’s still a kill. 

“Same century,” Fitch says, crossing his arms over his chest. He is not impressed by the man’s achievements. 

“Not this one.” Garcia remarks, and Jenn looks at Javy, wondering what to do. “Red Queen has a confirmed air-to-air kill with a fifth gen aircraft. That’s impressive.”

“You know, I’ve heard a lot about this Red Queen, and yet, I have never seen her. I’m starting to believe she’s not even real, just a product of someone’s imagination to make my work look less impressive. I think someone’s jealous and goes around inventing rumors, guys.” Jake says, turning to grab his beer. 

“I’m Red Queen.” Jenkins announces, moving a step closer to him and smirking. “Want me to show you the report?” 

Jake clears his throat and gets up from his sitting position, as if he were really worried about looking like an idiot. More than he was already. “I am… I’m sorry. I really thought you were a myth. Everyone says you were the perfect student at the Naval Academy and, well, I am… I didn’t picture you like that.” 

“I know I’m short, but that has its benefits, Lieutenant Bagman.” She says, looking at the other two pilots. “My name is Rowan Jenkins. Red Queen. Everyone calls me Red.” 

Jenn, who had been looking at the exchange in front of her, blinks a few times and snaps out of her thoughts. “Oh shit. I’m Jenn Seresin. Valkyrie. This is Javy Machado. Call sign Coyote. And the… Bagman here is Jake Seresin.” 

“Wait, you’re siblings?” Rowan says, looking between the two Seresins, trying to spot some similarities. Yeah, she can see some of them. 

“Unfortunately.” Jenn mutters, earning a smack in the back of her head from Javy. “Who’re your friends, Phoenix?” 

“I’m Mickey Garcia. Fanboy.” 

“Reuben Fitch. Payback.” He says, smiling. “Revenge was already taken.” 

Jenn smiles, and smiles at Phoenix. “Glad to see you here.” 

“This mission can’t work without me, what can I say.” She gestures in the direction of the bar, and speaks again. “Who’s he?”

The friend trio frowns, not understanding her words. “Who’s who?” 

Phoenix motions in the direction of a guy, seated down, eating, and cleaning his lap. He doesn’t seem to realize that he’s the center of attention. Suddenly, he raises his head, and he’s a bit startled by the number of eyes staring at him. 

“When did you come in?” Jenn asks, moving so she can see the aviator. 

“Oh, I’ve been here the whole time.” 

There’s a moment of silence, Jenn and Jake share a look. Jenn knows that look. He’s about to make a joke that can be either the most unfunny thing ever, or really offensive. “The man’s a stealth pilot. Literally.” 

Well, it wasn’t that bad. 

“Weapons Systems Officer, actually.” The wizzo replies, looking at all the faces that are staring at him. 

“With no sense of humor.” Jake’s sister is about to smack him, but he gets up and walks toward the bar. 

“What do they call you?” Natasha asks, interested in knowing the wizzo better. 

“Bob.” 

“No, your call sign.” Payback chuckles, knowing that it’s something that happens regularly. Aviators are more often called by their call sign than by their name, so sometimes you don’t know where the call sign ends and your name starts. 

“...Bob.” He insists, and they all look at each other. 

“Wait, you’re Bob Floyd? From Lemoore? You’re my new back-seater.” Phoenix says, walking closer to her wizzo. Other than herself, the person on whom she will rely the most.

“Looks like it.” Bob answers, smiling a bit. 

Jenn turns to look at Javy. “Dude, have you seen Jake?” 

“Val, you have to be a bit more specific here. I see him a lot. He’s not as good looking as he thinks.” Javy remarks, earning a slap from Jenn. “Auch!” 

“Idiot. How he was looking at Red before he knew who she was? Did you see that?” Jenn reiterates, looking over to the bar to make sure that her brother doesn’t come back. “I’ve never seen him look at a girl like that.” 

Javy thinks about it for a minute, noticing how his best friend keeps looking over his shoulder to look at her. “He’s smitten.” 

Jake’s sister almost has a fangirl moment because, for the first time in years, Jake Seresin might be interested in someone for more than just sex. “I never thought I’d see this day.” 

“Can we emphasize the fact that he has fallen for the only girl that is better than him at his job?” Javy says biting his bottom lip to not laugh. 

“...Holy shit, you’re right!” 

Jake comes back from the bar, having changed the song on the jukebox. “Bradshaw! As I live and breathe.” Jake says, walking over to Jenn and Javy to give them some beers. He gives one to Red and the other to Phoenix. 

Javy’s eyes widen when he realizes that Bradshaw is, in fact, standing right next to Phoenix. “Oh my god.” 

“What the fuck is he doing here? He’s not fast enough for a special mission,” Jenn says, as if that were the only reason she doesn’t want him there. 

“You look good, Hangman.” Rooster says, watching Hangman’s every movement. It’s only then, when he stops right next to his sister, that he realizes that Jenn Seresin is also in the building. Brilliant. 

“I am good, Rooster. I’m very good. In fact, I am too good to be true.” Hangman says, making Phoenix and Rooster share a glance. 

Jenn looks at Rooster, the man who once was everything she ever wanted, and turns to keep talking with Javy. Family comes first, she reminds herself. Hangman might be a pain in the ass, but Rooster is not a saint, either. He talked as much shit as Hangman did back in the academy days. 

“What I wanna know is who’s team leader? And which of y’all have what it takes to follow me?” Jake states, looking at the others. 

“Of course, I’ll be team leader.” Valkyrie says, winking at Javy, who shakes his head. 

“Nah, Jenn. You’re wrong. It’s gonna be me.” Hangman insists, giving the pool cue to Javy. 

“Hangman, the only place you’ll ever lead anyone is an early grave.” Bradley raises his voice, wanting to be heard by all of the present aviators, even those who are having private conversations. Jenn glares at him, body already moving in his direction, but she’s stopped by Javy and Jake before she can say anything that she might regret later. 

Instead, the other Seresin walks to Rooster, slowly but with a smirk on his face. “And anyone who follows you is just gonna run outta fuel. But then that’s you all over, ain’t it Rooster? Snug on your perch, waitin’ for juuuuust the right moment. That never comes.” Jake smirks, tilting his head. “And I’m not talking about your performance as a pilot, only.” 

“Jake.” Valkyrie warns him, not wanting this to become too personal. 

Slow rider sounds in the back, and Jake laughs. “I love this song!” 

He leaves, and Phoenix and Rooster exchange a few words, but Jenn can’t hear him. She’s more focused on Bradshaw and that stupid Hawaiian shirt he’s wearing. One that she knows too well. 

She bought it for him when they were dating. 

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

Taglist:

@shrimping-for-all

@purplevortexx

@emorychase

@xoxabs88xox

[redfurrycat]

Bradley, before he made a bet with Tasha:

Bradley, after he lost a bet with Tasha:

*

Jake: Who are you?!

Jake: Bring me back my caterpillar-faced chicken.

Jake: I miss him...

Jake: 😎

Jake: 🥺

Jake: I didn't even have time to show him all the rooster memes I've been collecting since forever.

Jake to Tasha: I hate you.

[My headcanon is that as much shit Jake is giving Bradley about the moustache, he won't even look at him when he has to shave it, for whatever reason.]

*

[Jake's version]

[wannaeatramyeon]

I have a question, is Jake's all teeth real? Like, didn't Gun break some of them?

Jake Kim x Reader: Teeth

"Wow."

Jake responds with some incomprehensible noises.

"They did a good job, didn't they?"

A small nod.

"They feel good?"

Another nod.

"Really impressive."

More noises.

As unhygienic and unseemly as it is, your fingers continue to probe and run along his teeth, scrutinising the handiwork in-depth. If your head moves any closer inspecting your boyfriend's unbelievably realistic implants, you might be in danger of shoving your entire head in his mouth.

At the sight of Jake's adam apple bobbing, desperately trying to swallow with his mouth wide wide open, you yield. Backing away and removing your spit-covered fingers.

"Very nice. Very handsome." You say, kissing him and wiping your grubby fingers on his shirt.

Jake, any self-consciousness completely forgotten and confidence returning in full force, gives you a toothy grin and a wink in return.

[babyjakes]

ever green, evermore | 4. difficult introductions.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

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summary | loving husbands jake and ari had always believed they were all each other could ever want or need. but one unusual summer, when their world is turned upside-down by an uncanny girl from down the street, they find that having someone to love, nurture, and care for together is the missing piece that finally completes their perfect family and lives.

characters | caretaker!jake jensen, daddy!ari levinson, wrenley beauchamp (original character)

warnings | mentions/depictions of domestic and sexual violence, mental health themes: anxiety/panic disorders, trauma and post-traumatic-stress, eating disorders (restrictive subtype), therapeutic methods and tools: exposure, age regression.

After such a difficult afternoon, Jake was a bit worried Wren might be scared away from visiting again. But luckily, their routine resumed uninterrupted; if anything, it almost seemed to the man as if the entire experience had actually brought him closer to the girl than he was before. It made sense, in a way, as she had shown more vulnerability than ever, and he had managed to maintain her trust through it all. He had done what he had hoped to do: gently encourage her to step outside her comfort zone while still respecting her emotional needs. In the days following, once he knew he and Wren were still on good terms, Jake found himself relieved that he had managed to take a few steps forward with his friend without completely pushing her too far.

For a while after that, the hardest part was simply the little one's apologies. They were plentiful and unyielding; it seemed she just couldn't adequately express her guilt and shame no matter how hard she tried. Jake was more than happy to listen to anything that might be on Wren's mind, and when the 'sorry's just seemed to keep coming and coming, he held no frustration or annoyance with her. He knew it was just her mind convincing her she had to make up for what she had "done." But it broke his heart to see her so anguished, especially when she often ended up in tears through her scrambled words. All he could do was accept her apologies and promise that she was forgiven, or even further, that there was nothing to forgive in the first place— of course no one was mad at her. Of course they understood. It just seemed as though it was going to take a good long while to convince Wren of that.

Weeks went by and Jake figured it would be best to just put off any further attempts at the meeting for the time being, even after the final apology had seemingly been given. He and Ari were in agreement that this would most likely be best, considering how upsetting the entire ordeal had been for the poor girl. But then, out of the blue, Wren surprised them both by asking for another go at it, herself.

It was early one morning as she and Jake tended the garden together, the courage to ask the question seeming to come from nowhere as her little voice piped up amidst the balmy heat of the summer air, "J-Jakey?"

Looking up from the blush-colored peonies before him, the man raised a gentle brow at her as he hummed, "Hmm? What's up, darlin'?"

Wren's hands paused over the greenery, her small fingers fiddling with her clump of weeds as she kept her gaze low. Bottom lip puffing out a bit, she couldn’t seem to make it past that point on her own. Sensing her hesitancy, Jake pulled back from his work, wanting to give her his full attention. "What's on your mind, sweet girl?" It was rare for her to ever speak first, even after all the time they'd spent together. She was just a quiet presence; she rarely initiated any conversation of her own.

"Just w-wanted to ask..." she mumbled, her voice barely loud enough for her friend to hear. Leaning in a bit to listen, Jake nodded encouragingly, though he knew it would probably take more coaxing than that to find out whatever was bothering the sheepish girl.

"Go ahead, sweetie. You know you can ask me anything," he murmured gently, giving her a small, sincere smile.

Managing a cautious gaze in his direction, Wren caught it, mustering up more courage through a few deep breaths. "Just wanted... I was wondering... I-I..." Eyes falling again, she finally let out the words that would come as such a pleasant surprise to Jake, "I-I was hoping maybe... maybe I could try again... m-meeting Mr. Ari, I mean."

The man’s eyes widened a bit at her words. Wren seemed a little unsure of how to handle his surprise, so he was fast to snap out of his shock. "Oh honey, I think he'd love if we could try again," he smiled, his excitement audible in his voice. "You really want to? We just haven't wanted to push, y'know... we know it was so difficult last time," he told her sympathetically. Wren nodded, her cheeks darkening a bit at the reminder. "And that's okay, bub-" he added quickly, "-we know this is all so hard; I'm so proud of you, chicky. C'mere," he breathed, abandoning his spot across the flower boxes to collect her into a warm embrace.

"I-I'd like to try again, please," she spoke softly into his shoulder. "I promise I'll do better, I-I... I won't back out this time." Pulling back slightly to look at her, Jake was a bit concerned by the sense of urgency in her voice; it was almost as if she were afraid she might be denied another chance, which certainly would never be the case.

"Hey cutie, hey..." the kind man cooed, brushing her hair back from her face, "of course you can try again, Wren. And even if you do have to stop, that's okay. You can have as much time as you need, as many tries as you need, okay? We're just so proud of you for trying, sweet thing. You're bein' so brave, so, so brave." Tucking her hair behind her ear, he cupped her cheek, gazing at her softly. "So, what were you thinkin'? We can do this all on your timing, at whatever pace feels best."

"Well..." blinking bashfully, Wren admitted, "I-I was thinkin' about how... you told me, Mr. Ari really loves lemon desserts, 'member?"

"That's right, he does," Jake confirmed with a grin. "Good memory, bubba."

Tapping the toes of her shoes together, the girl continued, "Was thinking... maybe I could make somethin' special for him. And then... y'know..."

"Sure," he nodded understandingly, filling in the rest of the timid thing's words. "Bring 'em on over and we can give this all another go? I think that's a wonderful idea, sweetheart. He's gonna be so excited; I can't wait to tell him." Thinking for a moment, he suggested, "Maybe you could bring them sometime later this week? I know he'll be finishing up a thesis today or tomorrow. That should leave him with plenty of free time to snack with us."

Wren nodded, and though her nervousness was plain as day on her delicate face, Jake was encouraged to see a teeny glimmer of hope shining in the sweet girl's eyes as she stood there before him, her little cheek cradled delicately into his tender hand. "I-I'll make something super yummy, I really hope he'll like it."

"I'm sure he will, chicky,” Jake was able to promise her without a doubt in his mind. “Ari's loved everything you've ever brought us."

As he entered back into the house later that morning, he could hardly wait to tell Ari the news. Almost tripping over himself as he kicked off his work boots, he made his way swiftly to the pair of glass doors at the entrance to the couple's shared office, giving a light knock. His husband could be seen in his usual spot, amidst scattered paperwork and his computer which occupied most of his L-shaped desk. Looking up at the sound of a visitor, the older man gave Jake a smile, motioning for him to enter.

"Hey honey, you two all finished for the day?" Ari mused, hitting save on his document as he pushed back a bit in his chair. Jake found his way to his own seat at his smaller workspace, relaxing back into the faux-leather cushion as he nodded. "Hot out there today, huh?" the doctor noted, "I've been feeling the heat of the sun through the windows. Glad you two weren't at it for too long."

"You'll never guess what she said," Jake smiled, his excitement seeping through his attempts to mask it as his husband returned his grin, happy to see his partner so happy. "I was so surprised, Ari; I could've cried."

"What'd she say, babe?" Ari asked, now intrigued. It was normal for the blonde to report back on his time spent with his friend; many times he had the sweetest stories to tell of little moments they'd shared, but this sort of excitement was something new.

"She asked if she could try meeting you again," Jake beamed, "she brought it up, all on her own. I thought for sure after what happened last time, she'd never want to give it another go. But it seems like she does really want to meet you, even though it's so difficult for her," he told him proudly. "She was so sweet when she asked, Ari. I wish you could've seen her."

"Oh my," Ari's voice swelled, "I certainly wasn't expecting that."

"Tell me about it," Jake sighed, shaking his head. "I'm so proud'a her. She's really come so far, even in just the time I've known her. Hopefully we can keep working towards the two of you finally getting to meet, face to face. She's gonna bring some treats later this week, after you're done with your paper. She wants to make them special, just for you."

"What a sweet girl," Ari hummed fondly, the thought of little Wrenley making him something special, despite all of her fear towards him, just melting his heart. "Well, that'll be all the more reason to keep working at it," he chuckled as he motioned to his mountain of papers, "I wish we could have her sooner."

"I was thinkin' we should approach things a little differently this time," Jake mentioned, mindlessly picking at a few specks of dirt on his pants as he spoke, "everything seemed to fall apart when you came out for those few moments. Maybe it would be best to get her inside first, just let her look around and see that it's safe."

"That might help," Ari agreed, thinking for a moment before adding, "I guess since she's never been in the house, she might not know what to expect. You guys can come in at her pace, get your shoes off and get settled, that sort of thing. Good thinking."

"We'll just take it one step at a time," Jake nodded. "I told her it'll be okay if she has to stop again; I don't want her to feel too much pressure. I know she's so embarrassed about how things went last time."

"Poor girl," Ari frowned, hating the thought of her having to feel such a way about something she couldn't even control to begin with. "One step at a time," he repeated Jake's words, "sounds like a plan to me, bub."

A few days later on Thursday afternoon, Jake finally got to send the anticipated text. 'Hey chicky, Ari finished up his thesis this morning. You free tomorrow?' Tagging the end of his text with a yellow heart, he hit send. A few minutes later, it was confirmed; Wren would bake that evening and make her way over in the morning. Ari and Jake were elated, spending most of the rest of the night trying to tidy up the house. While they certainly knew it might be another difficult day ahead, they couldn't wait to hopefully make more progress with the girl.

Around nine the next morning, Wren texted Jake to let him know she was heading over on her bike. He and Ari decided the older man would stay in the office while the pair of friends took their time in entering the home. "Good luck out there," Ari planted a kiss in Jake's hair before heading to the office to wait things out.

"Love you, big guy," Jake called after him as he took to pulling on his boots, standing in the entryway.

"Love you more, handsome!" Ari sang back before closing the office door behind him, leaving Jake alone for a few moments to collect his thoughts. He had a weird feeling about the day ahead, a good one. He tried to hold onto the fact that the whole thing had been the girl's own idea to begin with; that alone gave him hope that she might be able to make some big strides forward.

Taking his time, he headed out through the front door, deciding to leave it open while closing the glass storm door in its place. He thought maybe being able to see into the house would be comforting for Wren; he wanted to do everything he possibly could, down to the tiniest details, to help his friend feel safe. Walking down the gravel path away from the house, he was warmed gently by the morning sun as it stood beneath a thin veil of clouds in the sky. It wasn't too warm of a day, nice enough to open up the windows, the man thought to himself as he found his way to the front of the garden, stopping to wait as he gazed down the long road towards the hill. He could see a small figure traveling his way in the distance; as the minutes passed, it grew larger and larger, turning into a familiar body perched atop an ivory bike.

When Wren saw Jake waiting for her, she rang her bell in greeting like always, earning a smile from the blonde-haired man as he waved at the approaching girl. "Hi sweetheart," he greeted warmly as she made it to the edge of the drive, parking her bike in its place by the mailbox. "Nice out today, isn't it? Guess the sun's finally letting up a bit; this week sure's been brutal."

Gathering her basket, Wren nodded in agreement at Jake's observation as she made her way over to her friend, mumbling a meek hello. Her posture was already stiff; it wasn't hard for him to notice. When he pulled her in for a hug, he could feel her small frame trembling weakly against him. "Hey sweet girl," he softened his voice, holding her in his embrace for a few moments as he rubbed her back gently. "You're okay, there's no rush. I got you," he hummed, relieved to feel her relaxing a bit at his words.

When they pulled away from each other, Jake offered the girl a smile as he looked her over. "I like your dress, cutie. S'it new?" he tried to loosen her up with some small talk.

Looking down at her checkered beige apron gown, which she wore over a plain white shirt, Wren shook her head. "No, b-but I haven't worn it much this summer." Jake nodded, noticing it looked a bit heavier and warmer than most of her usual sundresses.

"Well it sure is adorable," he complimented. It was almost a bit of a routine they had. The man was always so impressed by her clothes; he commented regularly on whatever the girl happened to be wearing that day. Clearly she was quite the seamstress, certainly the most talented Jake had ever seen.

Wren gave a hum of bashful thanks as she crossed a foot nervously behind the other, prompting the boy beside her to take her hand carefully in hopes of comforting her. "How're you feeling, honey?" he asked, his voice low and sensitive as the little one's eyes fell to the gravel beneath her shoes.

Blinking her wide bambi eyes, Wren's voice struggled to come out steadily in her reply. "N-nervous," she admitted, carefully adding, "the cupcakes turned out nicely."

"Cupcakes, huh?" Jake smiled, taking the girl's basket from her to ease her load. He debated pulling her over to the bench, not sure if she wanted some time to get herself ready, or if she needed to just get things over with before her anxiety spiraled out of control.

"Mhm," Wren nodded, "lemon c-cake and... buttercream frosting."

"Those sound delicious, sweetheart," Jake reassured her, giving her hand that he still held a light squeeze. "What do you think, chicky? You ready to head in? Ari's gonna wait for us inside this time," he explained, not wanting anything to come as a surprise. "We can go in just the two of us, get our shoes off, that sort of thing. You can have a look around inside- we tried to tidy the place up as best we could," he chuckled lightly, hoping his carefree demeanor might help ease poor thing's relentless worries.

Wide-eyed gaze traveling up the now familiar path to the house, Wren forced down a swallow, nodding. "S-sure, that's alright," she hummed in feeble agreeance. Trying to take her response as a good sign, Jake smiled hopefully as he began to lead the girl in the right direction.

Their walk across the worn gravel footpath was slow, but at least it was something. Jake could sense the internal battle occurring in his friend's mind as she kept her gaze trapped warily on the front porch as they approached, barely willing to blink as if she expected something might jump out at any moment to ambush her. Holding steadily onto her hand, he murmured all the soft words of encouragement he could think of as they made their way, step by step. "Doin' just fine, honey. There's no rush; take your time..." "You're bein' so brave- I'm so proud of you, cutie..." "Look at that, we're almost to the porch! You're doin' so good, sweet thing. Just a little bit further..."

When the pair finally made it to the door, Jake was surprised a bit when Wrenley paused and looked up at him. Eyes wide with the most darling sense of disbelief, her voice swelled a bit as she cooed, "Look Jakey, m-made it!"

Raising his brow in helpless adoration, the blonde-haired man could feel his heart melting in his chest at the sweet girl's excited words. "That's right sweetie, look at how brave you were," he crooned softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "How're you feelin', buggy? Think you're okay to go inside?"

Appearing to muster up her courage with a deep breath in through her nose, Wren nodded. Raising up ever-so-slightly on the balls of her feet, she peered in through the storm door before her, her expression settling a bit as she took in what she could see of the home's interior. From that point, some of the living room was visible beyond the entryway; it all seemed ordinary-looking enough. "Think I-I can do it," she mumbled softly, her voice small yet laced with a bit of hopefulness.

At that point, it was going better than Jake could have hoped for. Grinning at his friend's response, he nodded, encouraging her, "Go ahead and open up the door then, honey." 

The girl’s hand shook as she raised it to take the door’s handle, twisting as gently as she could to release its latch. Her attentive eyes widened slightly as she breathed in the mild air of the home, seeming to find some small sense of comfort in its scent. Jake simply watched as she gazed forward; after a few moments, he realized she might need a bit more encouragement to keep moving. “C’mon sunshine, watch the step up,” he told her gently as he entered first, still guiding her by the hand. 

Wren seemed to be almost on her tiptoes as she followed her friend in, peering around curiously as he closed the door behind both of them. Jake’s heart broke a little in his chest as he watched her careful movements, recognizing her attempts to make as little noise and fuss as possible. She was the same way in the garden; it was particularly noticeable when the two were first getting to know each other. Over time she was able to loosen up somewhat, but that cautious, tentative nature never seemed to leave her entirely. It seemed like she was worried about taking up too much space, too much time, too much of anything. Seeing this pattern of behavior continue, Jake couldn't help but wonder what or who might have made her feel so guilty for simply existing.

Wren’s eyes scanned the home from left to right as they stood there in the entryway. From the hallway’s entrance, to the living room, over to the kitchen, past the office doors, and finally to Jake, she was able to at least conclude that the stranger she was so nervous to meet was nowhere in sight. Once she had had a chance to survey her surroundings, she seemed to relax ever so slightly. Jake smiled gently at her as her gaze came back over to meet his. “See? You’re safe. Nothing scary,” he hummed.

“Nothing scary,” she repeated. “Y-your house is so pretty, Jakey. So warm- and comfy.”

Jake’s face softened at her words. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’m so glad you think so. Oh- and look who decided to come say hi,” he cooed as a little black figure appeared in the entryway to the hall, letting out a faint meow at the sight of the new guest. 

Wren’s eyes lit up at the sight of the cat, letting out a small gasp as she greeted him politely, “Oh, h-hello Mr. Socks. It’s very nice to meet you.” 

To the pair’s surprise, at the shy girl’s words, the cat came right up to Wren without a second thought. Rubbing his face gently against her legs, he wove himself around her a few times, a warm pur sounding from his chest as he did so. Jake raised his brow at the cat’s unusual behavior. “Oh my, looks like he found his new best friend. He must really like you, honey. He usually won’t go anywhere near strangers.”

Leaning down a bit, Wren offered the creature her hand. He sniffed it for a few moments before giving a signal of approval by pressing his face right up against her fingertips, earning a soft giggle from the girl. As she gave him a few scratches behind his ears, which he leaned into with great pleasure, Jake only grew more amazed at her ability to win the little animal over with such ease. He wasn’t a very social cat, and never before had he been willing to even come close to an unknown visitor. It almost seemed like he felt just as Jake did about Wren; there was something that drew him to her. 

After familiarizing himself with the friendly girl for another few moments, Socks turned and padded off back into the house, disappearing over into the kitchen. Setting down the wicker basket, Jake finally felt safe to let go of Wren's hand, brushing his hair back from his face as he asked, “Well, what d’you say we get our shoes off and head into the kitchen?” Earning a nod to his suggestion, he bent down, taking to unlacing his boots. Wren followed suit, lowering herself to undo the buckles on her Mary Janes. Slipping them off each foot one by one, she carefully set them next to the small bench against the wall before standing back upright. 

In those few moments, a figure had appeared through the glass of one of the study doors. As it opened with a creak, Jake was caught off guard by a frightened yelp coming from his friend as she jumped back in surprise. “Oh, hey-” but his words came too late. As his husband watched from several feet away with a worried look, Wren stood frozen for only a moment before beginning to crumple down into herself, pressed up against the corner between the wall and the bench beside the door. Before either of the men could do anything to stop it, it seemed the situation was dissolving right before their eyes.

“Oh sweetie- okay,” Jake tried, “okay, it’s alright. Here, let’s-” Stepping towards the girl, his heart ached as she ducked behind him, attempting to hide away from the other man who stood over by the office. Wren reached out with shaking hands, which the blonde quickly took into his own. “Hey sweet girl, you’re okay- oh honey,” he frowned as he watched the poor thing collapsing into a state of pure panic. 

“Oh hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-” Ari attempted to apologize, only causing the little one to flinch back harder at the sound of his voice. Cheeks flooding with tears, Wren seemed entirely too terrified to form words. All she could do was cower behind Jake and cry. 

The two men were struggling to handle the situation; it seemed it was yet another instance of poor timing on Ari’s part. Smoothing his hair back in worry, Jake did his best to hold onto his friend, trying to think of a way to bring her back down to a manageable state. During his pause of thought, it didn’t take long for Wren to begin scrambling to find an exit. Eyes darting towards the door, she lunged before Jake could say anything, but he was able to catch her as he stood between her and the handle. She collapsed pathetically against him, the two of them sinking down to their knees as she sobbed into his white t-shirt.

“Wren, sweetheart- hey,” Jake hummed, bringing a hand up to smooth over her hair as his other arm held her up against him. “You gotta breathe for me, bubba. Just breathe, you’re okay,” he tried to best to convince her. As hard as it was to hold her there as she struggled against his embrace, he knew it wouldn’t help any to let her run. It broke his heart to see her so distraught, but he still hoped somehow that there might be some room for trust to be built amidst the profound fear. 

“P-please,” she sniffled, “please… n-n-no…” It was the weakest Jake had ever heard her, her broken words barely distinguishable through her sobs. Taking a brief look back over at Ari, Jake tried his best to not appear helpless as he held the poor girl upright. Sympathy and understanding shone across the doctor's face as he watched the pair, his eyes connecting with his husband’s as they shared a glance of mutual pity. As slowly as he could, Ari took a few steps towards the two, wanting to give Wren all the time she needed in the safety of her trusted friend’s arms before approaching and invading their space. 

“You’re okay, honey. I’m here, Jakey’s here with you,” the younger man crooned, rubbing tender circles across the girl’s back as she cried. “You’re safe, darlin’. I got you, just try and breathe for me, chicky. Big breaths, you’re alright.”

Inching up just a few more feet, Ari paused as he reached the step up from the sunken living room’s carpeted floor to the hardwood of the entryway. Glancing over with the gentlest of expressions, he lowered himself to the ground as well, hoping it might help him appear less intimidating. When she peeked around Jake’s larger form, Wren’s sobs only worsened at the sight of the older man now closer than he was before. As she met his gaze for the first time, Ari was somewhat startled to see how deep the fear ran through her darkened eyes. She wore a look of distrust he had never seen on anyone before, not even the most severely traumatized patients he had encountered back during his practicing years, and that set off loud alarms as to what kind of situation he and Jake could really have on their hands. Hoping to help his partner start easing the poor thing back down, the brunette began to murmur softly, “Hey, shhhh…” The girl’s head ducked at the sound of his voice, her little face tucking back into her friend’s shirt as he continued to rub her back soothingly.

“Wrenley… c’mon, sweet thing,” Jake tried gently, pulling back just far enough to search for her avoidant gaze.

Unwilling to look him in the eyes, Wren shrunk even further at the shoulders, appearing as though she was doing her best to simply melt into the floor and disappear completely. “P-please Jakey,” was all she could choke out once more. 

“‘Please’ what, honey? How can I help, sweetheart?” Jake crooned in response.

“P-please…” Her voice trailed off as she seemed to be searching for the right words, acceptable ones as she tugged on the blonde’s hands pleadingly. “S-so scary, please Jakey…”

“Why’s it scary, bubba? Can you help me understand?” he murmured as he brought a hand up to brush back the little one's hair from her face, earning a weak whimper and wince as she trembled beneath his touch. “Wanna help you, darlin’. Wanna make it feel not so scary, can you tell me more? Let me help you, sweet girl. Just wanna help."

Bottom lip wobbling as the man did his best to coax more information out of her, Wren snuck another glance over at Ari before finally bringing her teary gaze up to meet the blonde’s. Jake could hardly handle seeing the distress overflowing from the girl’s baby blues; it took everything in him not to wrap her up safe in his arms and give in to her every broken plea. “S-so scary,” she repeated, earning an understanding nod from Jake as he encouraged her with his eyes to say more, “s-scary… gonna… please, he’s… s’gonna hurt so b-bad, Jakey.”

Both of the men's hearts dropped to the pits of their stomachs at the poor thing's admission of her true fears. With the wind nearly knocked out of him, Jake found himself having to fight off his own tears as his friend's words processed in his mind. Furrowing his brow, he smoothed the girl's hair back once more as he dared to stare her straight in the face. His voice came out weakly, "Wrenley, honey..." It was almost unbearable to look at her, those big, scared eyes filled with such a haunting sense of desperation and need. In that moment, Jake could run from it no further; he had no choice but to accept that someone had hurt his sweet little bird enough to make her this way.

From his safe several feet back, Ari was just as devastated at the progression of Wren's episode as his husband. Though of course he had the instinctual urge to give the poor girl all the comfort he could fathom, he knew that he needed to wait and let her seek it from where she was already comfortable. It was more than difficult; he was a softhearted, nurturing man in nature. But he knew his premature intervention would likely only make things worse, and so as much as it pained him, he simply rested his weight back as he knelt there, sharing a sorrowful yet confirming glance with Jake when he looked over.

"Sweet girl..." the younger man cooed, his voice low as he tried to find somewhere to begin his reasoning. "What d'you mean, 'hurt?' No one's gonna hurt you, cutie. You're safe- I promise you're safe here, sweetie."

Eyes falling back to the floor, Wren withered as she searched for words to explain herself, seeming wary of both the men's expressions of shock and alarm. "Just..." Wearing a heartbreaking look of something close to shame, she continued, "b-big. Strong, if he... gonna... j-just..."

Feeling guilty as his friend struggled to communicate her worries, Jake nodded gently. He could somewhat understand what she meant; Ari was, after all, about as close to a real-life giant as a man could get. With whatever sort of fight-or-flight she was being thrown into at the mere presence of an unknown person, the same kind of trauma response she had collapsed into when first meeting Jake, it made sense that the older man was presenting a much greater challenge than he had, himself. "I know, honey. I know it's so hard," the blonde murmured, "but I promise you, Ari would never do anything to hurt you. If he tried, I wouldn't let him- but he just wouldn't, chicky. He really, really wouldn't. No one's gonna hurt you here, Wrenley. In this house, with me and Ari, you're safe. You're always gonna be safe, sweetheart." With one of his hands wrapped around her smaller one, he gently linked their pinkies, giving a light squeeze to seal his promise.

Thinking it might be an okay time to try and start providing some reassuring words of his own, Ari nodded sincerely at his husband's words. "Wrenley? Honey, can you listen to me?" he hummed softly, trying not to deflate as the girl's tears once again worsened at his interruption. She tucked herself away into Jake's arms at the stranger's words, prompting the younger man to begin rubbing her back once more as she shook and wept helplessly. "Jake's right, sweetheart. I'm not gonna hurt you; I would never. You're such a special girl- you're Jake's best friend. Did you know that?"

Remaining hidden in the safety of her friend's arms, Wren managed a sniffle, unable to give a response to the man's attempts. Hoping her maintained state might be a better sign than coming undone any further, Ari decided to continue. "You've been such a big help in the garden, and we're always so delighted by the treats you bring us. You're the best baker I've ever met; I'm sure Jake feels the same way."

"Sure do," the blonde added encouragingly as he rocked the small girl in his arms. "Maybe sometime we can have you over to bake; we've got a big kitchen with plenty of space, and Ari got me some new kitchenware for Christmas. You can show us whatever magic it is that makes your goodies so yummy."

"That would be so fun," Ari nodded in agreement, trying to smile through his sadness in hopes of lifting the poor thing's sunken spirits. "You know all those little cards you made? The ones you put on your baggies with the pretty ribbons- the ones that said 'Mr. Ari?'" That seemed to catch Wren's attention as she lifted her head up just the tiniest bit, though she still stayed wrapped up in the safety of Jake's embrace. It was a small, subtle movement, but it was enough; seeing her respond in even just the slightest way to his efforts filled Ari with hopefulness that he might finally be getting somewhere. "I keep them all in a little stack on my desk," the man revealed gently, adding, "Every time I see them, I think about you and how special you are to Jakey, and to me. I could never hurt you, angel. You're too important to us; we care so much about you."

"So much, buggy. Ari's right; you're our special girl," Jake cooed. Praying he wasn't just imagining it, he could almost feel the little one starting to relax the slightest bit in his arms. He hoped more than anything that their soothing words were getting through to her; both of them did.

Softening his expression as much as he could, Ari was similarly picking up on small signs of progress. With faint optimism present in his voice, he asked, "Sweetheart? Do you think you could try and look at me?" It broke his heart to receive a doubtful whimper from the small girl, though he just hummed mildly, "I know, honey. I know it's hard, but you're bein' so brave- you know that? Jakey and I are so proud of you," he commended. "You made it all the way in; I know that must've been so difficult, and now you're stayin' here with us; you're doin' so well, angel. So, so well."

As the doctor crooned his praises, it was visible to both him and his partner that his efforts were slowly but surely working. Now more than anything, Wren was simply slumped against Jake, no longer trying to run. Bringing his hand up to stroke softly over her light golden hair, Jake continued his rocking motions, the feeling of her small body wrapped in his filling his heart with such a sense of pride and love.

"There you go, sweet girl," Ari murmured, the sight before him now seeming a million times more manageable than it was even just a few minutes ago. "You're okay, Wrenley. You're safe, see?" Softening his voice even further, he dared to ask again, "Do you think you could looking over here, honey? You did it before, remember? Just wanna show you nothing bad will happen, darlin'. Wanna show you it's safe, d'you think we could just give it a try?"

Keeping his movements as subtle as he could, Jake shifted their positioning to make it easier for the girl to look over at the man if she chose. There was a period of silent pause, both of them eagerly holding their breath as they waited to see what the little one might do. And to both of their amazement, after gathering up all the courage she could into her tiny trembling frame, Wrenley finally lifted her head up ever so slightly to gaze bashfully over at Ari through a fresh veil of tears.

As her deep blue eyes met his own, the man thought he had never felt so touched by another human being in his life. It wasn't the kind of affection he had for Jake; it was something completely different and new. It was the way a person might look at a newborn fawn when seeing one for the first time. There was such a profound feeling of tenderness, along with a heaviness to the situation that couldn't be ignored. As he knelt there, face-to-face with the girl at last, there was an unmistakable sense that he was cradling her entire fragile world in his hands. Her vulnerability shone through her eyes; she had let him in the door. There was no turning back. And in that moment, all Ari wanted to do was prove to her that he would do just as Jake had done, that he would protect her heart and treat it with the care it deserved.

Relief and compassion washed over his face as he gave her his softest smile, humming, "Hi there, pretty girl. See? Completely safe." Resting his hands on his knees, his heart all but melted as she gave him the teeniest of nods as Jake rubbed her back again proudly, mumbling sweet words of praise in her ear.

Catching notice of the little yellow head poking out of the girl's dress pocket, Ari's smile widened as he asked, "Is that your ducky, sweetheart? Jakey's told me all about him- I've heard he's quite the little gardener, just like you. Does he help you bake, too?" He didn't mind in the slightest if to any outsider it might seem silly; he was more than happy to treat the stuffed animal like a living being if it might help his new friend feel more at ease.

Surprising the couple once more with her bravery, Wren offered a mild nod. "I didn't know he likes to bake," Jake played along, glancing lovingly down at the little figure. "You'll have to come to our baking day, Ducky! It'll be a party in the kitchen!"

"It's very nice to meet you, Ducky," Ari hummed adoringly, giving plushie a gentle wave. In a moment the men both found all too precious, Wren's little fingers came up to find one of the duck's wings, having him give a wave back to the doctor.

Jake finally felt safe enough to relax in his embrace of the girl, turning to shoot Ari a triumphant smile. The older man smiled back softly; there was an incredible sense of calm that washed over the three friends as they sat there in the entryway of the home, seemingly past the worst of the group effort. Resting the side of her little head against Jake's chest, Wren continued to look over at his husband, the storminess in her eyes receding at last.

"You wanna tell Ari what you brought?" the boy asked his friend gently, earning an intrigued look from the brown-haired man as he nodded encouragingly. "She made 'em special, just for you," the blonde gushed as he motioned towards the basket with his head. "She knows you love lemon."

"I do; that's my favorite," Ari murmured with a smile.

Blinking sheepishly, Wren's voice was as soft as ever as she told him, "M-made cupcakes, sir. Lemon cake a-and... and buttercream frosting; it's my Nana's special recipe." Ari hummed approvingly, finding her mildly old-fashioned manners to be rather endearing; she was just too sweet, exactly as Jake had described her.

"That sounds so special, darlin'. We've got plates and drinks in the kitchen- what d'you say we go give them a try? I can't wait to finally give my compliments directly to the baker." After pausing to look up at Jake, who gave her a reassuring nod, Wren nodded at the suggestion. "Perfect. Here, I'll show you the way."

← last chapter | series masterlist | next chapter (coming soon!) →

[crimescrimson]

Jake Muller & Sherry Birkin in Resident Evil 6 (2012) [Masterlist]: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

[jaidens]

LOVING HIM WAS RED.

REQUEST PAGE FOR : EPISODE : RED - TAYLOR SWIFT. [ 9 | 22 | 23 — 10 | 6 | 23 ]

RULES FOR REQUESTING —

i am not taking any smut requests at this moment; your request can only be under these circumstances.

• fluff : cuddling, kissing, and ‘sleeping together’ are underneath this category!

• angst : break-ups, arguments, and other upsetting topics are underneath this category!

REQUESTS !

Side A

1. State Of Grace (Taylor's Version)

2. Red (Taylor's Version) [SAM WINCHESTER.]

3. Treacherous (Taylor's Version)

4. I Knew You Were Trouble (Taylor's Version)

Side B

1. All Too Well (Taylor's Version)

2. 22 (Taylor's Version)

3. I Almost Do (Taylor's Version)

4. We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together (Taylor's Version)

Side A

1. Stay Stay Stay (Taylor's Version)

2. The Last Time (Taylor's Version)

3. Holy Ground (Taylor's Version)

4. Sad Beautiful Tragic (Taylor's Version)

Side B

1. The Lucky One (Taylor's Version)

2. Everything Has Changed (Taylor's Version)

3. Starlight (Taylor's Version)

4. Begin Again (Taylor's Version)

Side A

1. The Moment I Knew (Taylor's Version)

2. Come Back...Be Here (Taylor's Version)

3. Girl At Home (Taylor's Version)

4. State Of Grace (Acoustic Version) (Taylor's Version)

Side B

1. Better Man (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

2. Nothing New (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

3. Babe (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

Side A

1. Message In A Bottle (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

2. I Bet You Think About Me (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

3. Forever Winter (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

4. Run (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

Side B

1. The Very First Night (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

2. All Too Well (10 Minute Version) (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

FOR THE [ 2 WEEKS ] THIS REQUESTING PAGE IS OPEN, MY INBOX IS OPEN.

AFTER THESE TWO WEEKS [ OCTOBER SEVENTH OF TWENTY TWENTY-THREE ] THE PAGE WILL BE : FOLKLORE + EVERMORE!

🧣 — i bet you think about me !

[one-big-fangirl]

Someone please tell me why I choose to read angst and then get upset when it’s not a happy fluffy ending??

[hacked-by-jake]

Spoiler... maybe.

Every time we got to watch a secret conversation. I was a little disappointed we didn't get a "Well how did you like it?" after 🤣

Oh my lord thank god I wasn't the only one. I was planning to point this out. 😂

I was waiting for it as well. And it was an intense waiting. Even though I knew it's not going to happen.

But I'm not going to give up hope! 🥴