When Jake Met Polly
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
Summary: Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller
or
Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.
Warnings: Not much, fluff, flirting and refs to sex.
Note: This is just a short little idea i've had for agesss... reader has a 'name' but it's just her callsign, Polly, as in, short for Polaris. Ty to @hangmanssunnies i wuv u <3
“Hangman to Tower, I am coming in hot.”
You roll your eyes at the all too familiar voice that crackles through your radio, a smile pulling at your lips as you adjust your microphone and briefly throw a glance over your shoulder, just to make sure your commanding officer wasn’t lingering.
“Tower to Hangman. We are appalled at the gross lack of radio etiquette on display,” you respond. Barely a few seconds pass before you receive a reply.
“Come on, Polly, we've been working together for over a year now, what’s a little informality between colleagues?” Hangman says, and despite his jet only being a blip on your horizon still, you know he’s grinning.
“A commercial airline, Lieutenant.” You deadpan, your own smile growing as his laughter comes down the line. “You are cleared for landing, proceed to runway B,” you continue, not wanting him to have to ask again seeing as his approach was cutting it close already.
“Polly, have I ever told you that you’re my favourite Controller?” He asks as you watch him enter the pattern, and click your pen.
“Only every day we work together, Lieutenant.” There’s a beat of quiet as he expertly manoeuvres his jet toward the correct runway.
“And how sexy your voice is?” He goes on, sounding vaguely distracted.
“Once again, Lieutenant, this is not a commercial airline.” You respond, twirling your hair around your finger at his compliment anyway.
He doesn’t reply, and a shock of horror flickers through you as you watch the jet touch down once, something happening with his landing gear that makes the jet shudder, then seem to bounce momentarily before it drops back onto the tarmac and skids to a stop.
“Hangman, do you require the emergency crew?!” You ask quickly, eyes scanning the aircraft as it powers down fully. You wait tensely as the canopy pops up, and a broad figure jumps out, scrambling down the ladder, and once on the ground, he bends low to get a look at the problem.
“No, Polly, thank you. Seems the landing gear malfunctioned, must’ve been in a position to sustain damage once I landed…” his voice trails off, and you watch him straighten, and greet the ground crew who’d raced over to help.
“Glad you’re safe, Lieutenant. Tower out.” You say as he begins discussing with the crew, but briefly turns up toward the tower and raises a hand.
You let out a sigh of relief and settle back in your seat.
–
Around lunch time you make your way down to the tarmac. Hangman’s jet had been cleared off some time ago, and by now you know reports would have been filed, including your own, and his aircraft will have been taken in for inspection and repairs. You’re milling around the ‘crash’ site, inspecting the scrape marks left behind when you hear footsteps from behind approaching you.
“Can I help you ma’am?”
You know his voice immediately, but you know his face too, and when you at last turn back to him you’re graced by the sight of it, bright and unworried, despite the accident he’d had earlier.
“Oh, don’t mind me! I just watched someone bounce their jet off my tarmac earlier, just checking for potholes,” you tell him wrly. It takes a moment, but his face flashes with recognition and soon he’s taking a step towards you.
“Polly?!” Hangman asks, sounding surprised. You hum in response, then round on him.
“Where is it that you found your qualifications, Liuetenant? We should probably return them,” you tease him. Hangman only takes up a stance and stretches his arms out, his flight suit stretching desperately around his biceps as he does.
“Oh, Polly, if I’d known that was all it took to get you down here, I’d have started chipping bits off months ago,” he flirts shamelessly. You smile at him but don’t speak and after a moment, he drops his arms again, crossing them over his chest instead and blinking at you curiously. “What?” he asks.
Your smile grows, and you shake your head at him.
“Your terrible lines work better when I can see you, that's all,” you inform him, making him uncross his arms and laugh.
“I would say that’s generally the case, even if a guy ain’t me,” he replies coolly. You only shake your head again, and look back out at the expanse of tarmac ahead of you.
“Thanks to you getting your pilots lisence off the back of a cereal box, we’ve ruined our Sleepless in Seattle thing,” you say with a forlorn sigh.
When you look back at Hangman he’s frowning at you in confusion.
“Our what?” he asks. You roll your eyes and turn to face him fully at last, waving your hand as you speak.
“You know, our Sleepless in Seattle thing. We talk all this time, but never meet, and if we cross paths, we don’t realise it? It’s ruined now,” you accuse him lightly. Hangman hums, and seems to think for a moment.
“I get to be Meg Ryan in this situation, right?” he says, making you chortle.
“Well you’d have to be. No way I’d leave 90s Bill Pullman!”
“Well, what if we’re not Sleepless in Seattle? What if we’re more… When Harry Met Sally?” he suggests. You squint at him.
“Have you seen that film? I’m not sure that’s the implication you want to go for…” you ask him, making him falter for a moment.
“That’s the one with the emails right?” he responds unsurely. You laugh again, and shake your head.
“No, that’s You’ve Got Mail.”
“What the hell did I just suggest, then?”
You stare at him for a moment, and can’t stop yourself from grinning up at him.
“More or less not speaking for like ten years, but on the rare occasion we do meet up, we argue,” you tell him, watching him frown even deeper, and shake his own head this time.
“That would be kinda hard, considering you’re the voice in my head,” he says.
“Oh, so we’re doing Her now!”
Hangman fixes you with a deadpan expression and a slightly smirk.
“I don’t even want to know.”
You laugh at him, and begin walking, unsurprised when he immediately joins you, falling into step at your side. “So,” he begins again after a moment, peering down at you. “Despite playing hacky sack on your tarmac, you still gonna let me take you out?”
You falter briefly, but keep walking, this time glancing up at him.
“I didn’t think you were being serious all those times you asked me out,” you don’t bother hiding your surprise. Hangman looks back at you, squinting, and cocks his head.
“At this point I think you’ve shot me down more than Dagger combined, why would I not be serious?” he asks you, sounding oddly serious. You chuckle.
“Right, so, say if, I don’t know, Rooster got a few more hits on you, you wouldn’t leave me hangin’ would you?” you know you’ll say yes, but you can’t help but tease him a little longer.
Hangman raises an eyebrow at you and grins wide and beautiful.
“You? Never,” he says. “Mostly because I’m legally obligated to respond when you speak to me.”
You lift your own eyebrow and fix him with a wry smile.
“I like that in a man.”
Hangman laughs.
–
“I mean it, your voice is sexy,” Jake tells you once he’s sat back down from replacing your drinks. You can’t help but chortle and stir your cocktail with the straw.
“Really? Me telling you to line up and wait in the pattern gets you going?” you ask. Jake grins, but nods very seriously as he takes a short sip of his beer.
“Absolutely. I also like when you tell me about the weather and conditions, and direct me to land.”
Leaning forward with your elbows on the table between you, you put your chin in your hands.
“I liek when you flirt with me,” you begin, waiting for him to smirk at you before continuing on. “And you don’t realise my boss is in the room, so I just have to respond ‘roger’ and ‘acknowledged’ whenever you say something stupid,” you finish. Jake rolls his eyes and leans forward to meet you.
“To be fair, I’d probably be saying something stupid anyway,” he tells you.
You have to let out a laugh at that and finally lean back again.
“Oh yeah, that reminds me, are you ever gonna tell us all how to ‘bury a fossil’? You know, those things that you famously dig up and do not bury?” you tease, earning another eyeroll. Jake shrugs and copies your movements.
“I foretold Mav’s career comeback, didn’t I?”
You laugh again, but this time, get a good look at him sitting casually across from you, out of uniform and seemingly more relaxed than you’ve ever seen, or heard.
“I like your voice too,” you tell him at last, smiling a little at how he seems to preen at your praise. “Your accent is more pronounced face-to-face though, and you don’t sound like you’re performing all the time.”
Jake takes a sip of his beer and shrugs again.
“Can’t be Hangman all the time,” he says. You make a face.
“I like Hangman. He entertains me at work… but I think I like the guy who hasn’t seen When Harry Met Sally, and has a Fisher-Price pilot's lisence even more.”
Jake laughs and nods at you.
“Splash one,” he says before he leans in to you again. “Toddler’s generally have pretty good taste, in my opinion, they’re all about shapes and colours and boobs… can’t fault ‘em!”
You have to laugh and concede that at least, the two of you clinking drinks before you continue to flirt and chat for the rest of the evening.
When Jake drops you back at yours, you invite him inside, under the guise of lending him your DVD copy of When Harry Met Sally, but when he simply lingers in your living room, you start to consider other tactics.
“Jake?” you say, standing up from ‘searching’ your stack of DVD’s and facing him. “This is the part where you save me from admitting I don’t really own a physical copy of the film by having sex with me,” you inform him dutifully, watching as he straightens up and blinks at you. Then, he’s shaking his head, smiling, and taking a step closer toward you.
“I guess every good rom-com does have an earth shattering lie at its core, doesn’t it?” he steps closer, and this time, anchors his hands at your waist, tugging you into him a little more.
“Let's skip the conflict part and go straight to the happy ending, shall we?”
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minors & ageless blogs dni. | wriothesley x fem!reader.
cw. ooc wrio? more common than u thinkies, so so so self indulgent, riding, semi-public sex, is this a breeding kink? /ref (wrap it b4 tappin it plz), daddy kink (ofc…), belly bulgeeee !! praise + petnames (good girl, baby)
notes. fixin’ the layout tmrw ew… oh excuse it not bein proofread yet too !! | tagging @yingsreverie bc dis came 2 my mind aftr ur post earlier n’ wrio babiez stick together ♡
“that’s it,” his voice is low, a heavy timbre that rumbles from his chest as his hot breath tickles the back of your neck, “that’s a good girl.”
there’s the embarrassing wet squelch of your bodies colliding as you give your first hesitant bounce on his lap. your legs straddle him, feeling his chest press against your back as he presses loving kisses to your shoulder blades. you’ve barely began your ministrations and yet your legs are crumbling beneath you, quivering as you raise your hips to slam them back down again.
“takin’ me so well tonight, huh?” WRIOTHESLEY chuckles, a large palm sliding from your waist upwards, following the curve of your side before he cups your breast in his hand, “so fuckin’ tight baby.”
secret meetings like this in his office were nothing new between the two of you. plenty of times had you found yourself visiting for a mere cup of tea shared in the company of your partner and yet ending up tucked underneath his mahogany desk, your pretty lipgloss coated lips wrapped around his length and a calloused hand buried in your hair.
numerous times had visitors questioned wriothesley’s questionably sized desk chair and wriothesley always uttered the same excuses with that coy grin of his; it was for comfortability, of course but you knew the truth - it meant that your body could fit snugly on his lap for a multitude of purposes.
“daddy—” there’s the faintest reflection of crystalline tears in the corner of your eyes when your hips slap down onto his, his tip pressing to your spongey spot like it has done thousands of times before. wriothesley knew your body well, after all, “s-so full—”
you’re babbling and it’s barely coherent, much to wriothesley’s amusement as his spare hand wanders over your belly, pressing hard onto the bulge that comes with every bounce of your smaller body. he clicks his tongue, his hand idly squeezing your breast before it returns to your waist and helps guide you. you’re losing your pace, faltering as you arch back against his broad chest, your head resting on his shoulder as you cry out.
“you’re doing such a good job, baby, you know that?” he groans close to your ear, feeling the way your walls tighten in response to his words. your hands blindly fumble to find his arms, his hands, any of him so that you can claw at his pale skin, leaving pretty red marks as you try to find purchase.
there’s a fluttering in your tummy that can only mean one thing, drawing out more harmonious moans from your swollen lips as wriothesley’s fingers trace over your sensitive clit, giving an exceptionally sharp thrust, “makin’ such a mess… gonna have to finish inside…”
it only takes a few powerful thrusts, wriothesley’s strong grip almost bruising your waist as he holds you down on his lap, his cock bottoming out as it twitches, filling your womb with hot, sticky seed as your walls clamp and milk him dry for what he’s worth. there’s a breathy chuckle from your partner, your overstimulated body shuddering as you finally relax back against him. your legs ache, spent once again from another simple “visit” to your boyfriend’s office.
© anaxiphikia 2024 | reblogs appreciated | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.
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💌
supervisor!simon
you have now been promotedddddd 😆😆😝 i'm gonna try to push the valentines party out in a couple
“I’m very fond of these conversations.” he winks, which makes you furrow your brows.
You put your sandwich, umbrella and chips in a bag, following Simon who was half way out of the store. “You listen to us on the phone?” Simon turns his head to look at you, “It was a joke.” he says, when in actuality, he might've picked up the phone a few times. He likes to monitor, sue him!
“It’s not raining.” you frown, putting the umbrella back in the bag. Simon sits on the store's patio. “Wanna join?” He offers a seat. You think about it, you wanted to be alone and wanted to have a quiet lunch. But he’s offering you a seat, it would be rude to decline. “Sure.”
You sit and unwrap your sandwich, and Simon stares at it, “Do you always get that?” You nod. “Is it good?” he watches you eat (y’all know that one jake gyllenhaal picture.. That's Simon.). Staring at the way you hold your sandwich, how you inspect it, searching from what side you’re gonna bite next. “You stare a lot.” you comment. “It’s a habit.” he says quickly, “It’s kind of rude.” you say, “I know.” he fixes his gaze on the umbrella you threw on the floor before you sat down.
“Is that like a military thing? Johnny does it too.” You add, “Johnny stares cause he’s weird.” He snorts, “I don’t mean to, but Johnny does.” He says and grabs your bag of chips, opening it for you. You mutter a quick thank you, grabbing a chip, “So Johnny likes to stare huh?” you ask.
“It’s in his nature.” he shrugs, sitting back on the patio chair. “Does Simon like to stare?” you jokingly ask, “Simon already answered this question.” he says causing you to chuckle at his response. “You’re quick,” you point out. Simon smiles at you teasingly, “So you and Johnny are a thing now?” he questions. “Who said that?” confusion in your voice and all over your face. “Just thought,” he shrugged, “Since he’s getting a bit territorial.” You let out a small laugh at his comment. “He’s not,” you deny, “He just likes to hang out with me.”
“And we’re best friends.” Simon scoffs and you let out an even louder laugh than before, “He’s nice.” you say, calming down, “I’m sure.” SImon watches as you ball up the paper that your sandwich came in. “Johnny said you two aren’t close anymore.” You say, looking at the umbrella that sat by Simon's feet. “We aren’t.” he affirms, “so that’s what all the tension was about.” You adjust yourself.
“Nah, He only calls when he needs something.” You raise your brows at what he said. They looked like friends, sometimes even acted like it. Especially on the day Johnny started, they gave each other a big hug, they were laughing and chatting. “So there’s tension?” you ask.
“If that’s what it means to you.” Simon pulls back the sleeve of his button up, checking the time on his watch, “we should head back.” You agree, throwing the trash and grabbing your umbrella from the floor, “Man, I shouldn’t have bought this.” you hold it up, frowning at it. “It might rain later, you should keep it.” Simon grabs the Umbrella from you and proceeds to open it up to see the design, a clear umbrella with daisies and a black handle. “Cute.”
You take the umbrella from his hands, closing it and stuffing it in your side, holding it between your arm and ribcage. You both walk side by side quietly, Simon breaks the silence, “ I meant what I said on friday.”
“I know.” you sigh. “I sound like a broken record, but I really do feel bad.” Simon admits crossing his arms. You look around the strip mall, watching people walk in and out of the buildings that surround you and Simon. “I can tell,” you snort, you stop walking for a moment and stick your hand out for a shake. Simon takes it, and shakes it firmly. “Are we done with this conversation now?” you ask, “Yeah.” he smiles
-
You both finally get to the office, Simon now soaked. In the midst of your convo it decided to rain heavily. Knowing Simon, he refused to use the umbrella, he’s tracking water all over the office and looking damn good while doing so. His button up stuck to his skin, showing off all of his muscles. “What happened here?” Linda asks, shocked while also grateful for the view in front of her. “We got caught in the rain,” Simon says, walking carefully to the back. “He didn’t want to use my umbrella.” you shrug, “It’s too small to share.” he clarifies.
You walk past a slow stepping Simon and open the door to the back office, Johnny waiting by your desk, “Hello” you draw out making Johnny smile, “hi,” he says, “I brought something for you,’ he hands you a green folder filled with paperwork, “this is glorious.” you say taking the folder from him. “How was lunch,” he asks. “It was good, I bought-”
Your conversation is interrupted by Simon opening the door and walking through. Going to his office, “I bought an umbrella,” you finish staring at Simon's big frame heading towards his office.
“Looks like he didn’t” Johnny chuckles, “Yeah,” you say distractedly, Simon's door was left cracked open, from where you’re standing you got a clear shot of him taking his button up off and changing into his sweatshirt from this morning.
Putting your attention back on Johnny all you could think about was Simon's chest and his big arms, and his abdomen and how big he was and broad his shoulders are.
Johnny’s mouth was moving but no sound was coming out, you could’ve sworn you heard Simon call your name, and right when you turned to look at his office again, he was walking out, sending you a small smile. You look back at Johnny who was already looking at Simon. Johnny has muscles, Simon also has muscles. “I’ll be right back.” you say.
You manage to escape to the bathroom.. No wonder all the old ladies are hot for Simon.
Simon’s fucking hot.
-
Back at your desk you sit, sifting through the paperwork Johnny gave you earlier, you get a tap on your desk. You look up, “I forgot to tell you, we’re having a valentines party after work, if you wanna stay.” He scratches the back of his neck, “Linda’s decorating the front.” he clears his throat.
“I’ll think about it,” you shrug, giving him a polite smile, “are you going?” you ask, “I am supervisor.” you roll your eyes playfully, “Maybe.” you say and he taps your desk one more time before he goes back to his office. You sit there with a stupid grin on your face. You get a tap on your shoulder, Linda behind you with a heart headband in hand, “Are you staying?” You think for two seconds, “yeah.” she places the head band on your head, and you chuckle at the stupid heart springing back and forth.
“Nice hat.” Johnny pokes one of the hearts. “It’s a headband,” you fake swat at him, “are you staying?” you ask, “I’m thinking about it, what about you?” you point at the hearts on your head, “this wasn’t a dead give away?” he flicks a heart one more time, “Guess i’ll go.” he shrugs
-
You clock out and walk to the break room, headband still on, Simon stood by the microwave heating up his lunch from earlier. Hearing footsteps he turns his head around, “well one of us is gonna have to change.” you joke, the red hearts springing back and forth on his head, “So you’re staying?” he chuckles. “Yup.” you sigh, going for the vending machine. “What are you heating up?” you ask, taking note of the re-heatable container spinning, “My lunch,” He says, crossing his arm, “what are you buying?” he points to the vending machine, “Snapple.”
“Classic.” he snorts. You press the button for your drink and feed the machine your dollar, waiting for the drink to fall to the bottom. When it does you grab it and pull the table’s chair in the break room. Sitting and watching Simon stand at where the microwave was put. “You didn’t eat your lunch?” you ask, eyes on the way his muscles flex while pulling out the chair, “I was a little busy during lunch time,” he smirks, holding eye contact. “Ha,ha” you laugh sarcastically, “you should've said something, I wouldn’t have kept you.”
“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” he says, opening the plastic pack of cutlery. Now it was your turn to stare and watch him eat. Simon didn’t eat like Johny, Johnny was a messy eater and he talks with his mouth full. Johnny does that weird thing where you drink and chew.
Not Simon, Simon covers his mouth, and he chews with his mouth closed, his head is mostly down when he eats. He’s kind of fast, not in a disruptive way where you can hear his teeth grinding, but in a; I only have a certain time to eat before I get back here or there. You can see where some of military habits show, when people are in the way of where he needs to go, he says “Move.” instead of excuse me, always says Hurry, or quickly after he asks you to do something.
the way his brows twitch a little with each chew. The way his jaw tenses and then releases, His knee sort of bounces a bit when he’s sitting. And those long eyelashes that rest slightly above his cheek.
Simon finishes his food, throwing his used cutlery and washing out his food container.
“You done staring?” He teases.
“sorry.”
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