#to have & to hold // jake seresin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohtobeleah · 1 year

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LAST UPDATE HERE WE COME BESTIES

Alright besties here it is, please enjoy this final instalment of To Have & To Hold

Warnings: F-18 crash. Mentions of severe injuries. Unconscious. Angst. Jake Seresin x Wife!wife reader. Smut! Female oral receiving.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“You know, I kinda miss the blonde a little.” You couldn’t see Jake's face but you knew that behind the brown moving box he was carrying into the newer, more modern house on base, he had a shit-eating grin plastered across his smug face.

“You didn’t even recognise me with blonde hair—Mr Casinova.” You replied nonchalantly as you unpacked the box full of cutlery, plates, mugs and bowls. Reminding your husband how he tried to hit on you at the Hard Deck the first night you were in town. “But me too.”

“How many times are you gonna make me apologise for that?” Jake sighed as he placed the box he’d need carrying down on the kitchen island. “At least it was actually you?”

“Mmmm—“ Pressing your lips together as you pretended to think of an appropriate number. “Maybe like sixteen more times? Just to make sure you really get it through your thick head.” With Jake's permanent posting to North Island, he’d been moved into a new home. Something more permanent, more homely but a little more spacious. You wouldn't put it past your superiors to think that they had had the possibility of a family in mind when assigning him the hubble abode. It wasn't that a family with Jake was off the cards completely, it was just going to take a little longer and alot more effort than ever initially expected.

Jake had asked his family to send over all his things from the storage unit in Austin that he’d packed up from his last base apartment. So once things had started arriving you were more than happy to lend a hand in helping him move in. Throwing on a comfy sundress just to potter around the house unpacking small bits here and there.

Jake frowned playfully, moving around the bench to trap you between him and the countertop. Kissing your shoulder softly, leaving butterfly-like kisses against your skin. Enjoying the moment for a minute, you turned in his presence and without a single moment of hesitation, Jake was hosting you up onto the countertop. Standing between your legs as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to draw him close for a kiss.

“What am I gonna do with you huh wifey?” Things couldn't have been better between you and Jake. You'd organised a few couples therapy sessions to make sure things stayed that way. Both of you decided amicably that talking about your grievances before that became full blown issues that could topple an empire needed to be spoken about in a safe environment. There was no shame in that. On the weekend you were both planning on going back to the spot you rewrote your wedding vows at to burn your divorce papers. It wasn't an option anymore, Jake was your forever decision and you were his.

“I dunno hubby, but until you figure that out I guess you’re shit outta luck huh.” You taunted as Jake went in to kiss your neck, sucking against the Paudel point he knew drove you crazy every time. “Jake—we have boxes to unpack—“

“Fuck the boxes, they’ll be there when we’re finished.” It made your heart leap, Jake trailed his kisses from your neck to your jaw until he was making contact with your parted lips again. Soft needy moans escaped as your hands slid down from his shoulder to trace his chest, lingering slower and lower until finally you were palming him through his shorts. “Fuck baby.”

“Hmm, you started it.” It wasn’t hard to get Jake riled up. You could feel him stiffening under your touch, his length straining against his shorts as he let out a soft sigh against your mouth. Tongue searching for yours as his hands came up to cup your cheeks. “It’s all fun and games until you’re straining against your briefs isn’t it Hungman.”

“Okay that’s it—“ Jake was hungry and your attitude was feeding his cravings. Scooping you up off the counter, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist—holding on for dear life as Jake raced you through the living room and down the hall towards his bedroom. “So fucking cocky now she’s a Commander.”

“Take it or leave it Lieutenant.” Kicking the door down to the bedroom, Jake threw you onto the mattress on the floor. He had yet to put together his bed frame, too busy with everything else going on around him. He could sleep on the floor for a few days. It didn’t bother him. What did bother him was the slight difference in your attitude. You’d always had one, especially with him—but now? The empowerment you felt had you projecting that attitude into the world. Jake Seresin wasn’t complaining in the slightest bit. If anything he was addicted—he saw you glowing when he knew you were still struggling with your newly diagnosed fertility issues. “Think you need a lesson in respecting your superiors—“

“Don’t start with that shit with me baby.” Jake hissed as he dropped to his knees on the mattress. “You won’t like how it ends.”

“Is that a threat?” You had to bite your bottom lip gently as Jake came towards you, hovering over you as you laid back on your elbows. Looking up in emerald eyes that swirled with all the different colours of green. Darker than normal as he drank in the sight of you beneath him.

“More like a warning—“ Jake mumbled, he was rock solid against you and you knew you had him in the palms of your hands.

“So if I asked you to eat me out would you defy those direct orders? Lieutenant Seresin?” It had become an easy game to play. There was a part of Jake Seresin that loved being in control—but there was also a part that craved being told what to do. He needed it. “Or would you eat me out like it was your last meal?”

“Fuck you—“

“Please.” You whined as Jake connected his lips with yours in a fever dream way. Hungry and full of lust. You were driving him crazy—but he was into it, losing his mind as you worked to push down his shorts. The pair of Nikes moved ever so easily as Jake kissed a trail from your lips to your chin to the valley between your breasts, the strap of your sundress pulled down your shoulder until your bra was spilling out. “Jake—“

“I'm so lucky to have you Baby.” Jake cooed against your skin as he shuffled down the mattress, finding himself between your legs as he threw your legs over his shoulders. “But I’ve got orders—“ winking before his fingers were pulling at the fabric of your soaked panties—not even attempting to remove them gently, Jake just broke the fabric in half.

“Hey!!” You protested the animalistic act, sitting up on your elbows once again only to be overcome with pleasure within a second as Jake delved into your core. Lapping away like he’d been deprived of hydration for days. “Oohhh—-fuckk.”

“Where’d that cocky little attitude go Commander?” Jake smirked against your core as he felt your legs shaking around his shoulders. Paying all his attention to the little bundle of nurses as he slipped two thick fingers into your dripping cunt. Filling you just right as he began coaxing his fingers against your velvet walls. “Oh fuck you taste so good baby, like candy.”

“Ahhhh—-yess!” Your hands were quick to find the sandy blonde locks of your husband’s hair. Tugging on the strands as you worked your hips in soft circles—grinding yourself against Jake's face. A little stubble had lightly dusted itself across Jake's cheeks and chin, having been off work for a few weeks he saw no need to shave daily. You weren’t complaining in the moment, not in the slightest bit. “Yesss—fuck keep going oh please keep fucking going, just like that.”

It was his favourite meal, his favourite snack, his favourite dessert. Jake could eat you for eternity if were possible. His cock twisted against his briefs, a wet patch forming where the tip of his cock leaked out against the cotton. Soaking up his pre-cum as he used the edge of the mattress to release some built up pressure.

“Jake! Ahhh fuck yes baby don’t stop—“ Your cried out as you threw your head up, letting your back arch up off the mattress as you pulled at Jakes locks. Keeping him as close to you as ever as his fingered coaxed your orgasm closer and closer. Feeling you clench and tighten around his soaked digits. “Mmmm, gonna cum! Gonna cu—“

Normally Jake would make you beg for it, he’d make you tell him how badly you wanted it, how much you needed him—but all Jake could care about right now was making you scream. He wanted your orgasm to take you to another Theon for a few seconds just so he could revel in the sight of you all fucked out because of him.

“Cum for me beautiful, I got you—“ Jake cooed as he pulled his fingers in and out of you so fast his bicep strained and his tricep flexed. “I got you baby let go for me—“

“Aaahhhh! Oh god oh god ohhh god ooohhh goddd—!” It felt like a tsunami, your vision blurred for a split second as you forgot how to breathe, a wave of pleasure washing over you as you shook and clenched your knees around Jake's shoulders as he lapped away at your dripping cunt—feeling your clit pulse against his tongue. “Aahhh fuck!!” Breathing through the pleasure, Hake wiped his mouth and chin as he came up to lie beside you. Although you were spent, you rolled over, straddling his waist before dropping down to kiss his swollen lips. Tasting yourself.

“How about I return to favour?”

“Might keep that new found attitude of yours at bay—“ Jake mumbled as he watched you discard your sung dress over your head. “Fuck, so beautiful.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” It was hard not to fall madly in love with your husband all over again. The last few weeks had been a roller coaster of emotions—but right now I’m this very moment everything just seemed worth it. Jake was worth it.

“Wrong—“ Jake held his left hand up to you, pointing at the tattooed wedding band on his ring finger. “It got me you—forever.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Hospitals always gave you the heebie-jeebies. They always seemed too sterile and too silent to be a real place. The walls were always too plain and the deafening silence made all the different monitors' sounds and sirens seem all the much louder.

Knocking on the door as you stood in the threshold of Chaos’s Hospital room, you couldn’t help but to laugh as you took in the copious amounts of bouquets that littered the expanse of the hospital room that had become her home. Bradley Bradshaw was a menace to the flower shop down in the main lobby of the hospital.

“Ah, Commander Seresin, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Chaos teased your new rank as you entered, holding up the bottle of Port you’d snuck past the nurses. Raising her eyebrows in pure excitement, Chaos beamed a bright smile. “Damn, don’t mind if I do.”

“How you been doing?” You asked as you walked around to the empty chair beside her bed. For someone who’d just barely escaped death Chaos looked good. She was still in a sling for her collarbone, but the bruising had started to fade away. She was still facing a few more weeks in hospital though, you all knew it. She was tough but even the tough need time to heal.

“Eh, itching to get out of this bed I’ll tell you that.” Chaos was honest, you all knew she was dying to be well enough to be able to go home. She was itching for those discharge papers—she’d started to harass the doctors and nurses every day, hoping that if she was an annoyance enough that’s want her gone as soon as possible. “You just missed Rooster—“ Chaos shuffled herself up the bed a little. Fixing the pillow behind her back. “Sent him home for a damn shower.”

“Good thing I came to see you and not Bradshaw huh?” You chuckled as you popped the cork on the bottle of Port, pouring yourself and Chaos a very small class. “Tell anyone about this and I’ll deny it to my dying breath.” Pointing your finger as you handed the injured pilot who just needed someone to look at her as if she wasn’t a fractured version of her former self the small glass. “I’m sure a few sips won’t kill you.”

“Worst adversities have tried.” Chaos joked before she downed the port as a shot, it certainly wasn’t intended to be drunk like that but nevertheless she handled it with grace, coughing slightly before gesturing for you to pour another glass. Which you did without hesitation, filling the glass before placing the bottle on the ground beside your chair—leaning back as you sighed. Looking up at the ceiling as if by some grace of whatever God was watching down you'd figure out all the answers yourself. “What’s up Hawks?”

“I got my new posting.” You hadn’t told Jake about the letter you’d received three days ago. You were still tossing up what you were going to do about it. With your new rank and your current position as one of the Navy’s best combat analysts, you had two choices. “And I know it’s probably selfish to ask the person stuck in a hospital bed for advice but I know you won’t sugar coat your opinion.”

“What’s the posting?” Chaos asked as she sipped her port, not feeling brave enough to shot the liquor in one go twice in a row.

“I can stay here in Miramar and take up an analytical position amongst the higher ups.” You explained as you eyed off the liquor swirling around in the small glass. “Or—“

“Or—?” Chaos mimicked you like a parrot, smirking as you held back on her for a moment.

“Or I can take up a position at Quantico, work under the guidance of some of the most leading admirals, which would just send my career skyrocketing Chaos.” You explained before following the daring pilot's lead, shotting the liquor you nursed.

“Well it sounds like you already know what you want to do so what’s the big issue?” Chaos knew what the dilemma was, and in her mind he had the biggest ego around. Jake Seresin was the anchor keeping you in Miramar. “If you want my personal opinion? I think you should follow whatever your heart is telling you to do Y/n.” Chaos sighed as she shifted in her bed a little more. There was never a comfortable spot, one she could find anyway. “But just so you know, I followed my heart and it damn near got me killed, so.”

“Jake and I are good, I don’t wanna jeopardise anything because of a new posting.” It was the honest truth, you didn’t want to leave Jake in North Island. You wanted to stay and see how things were going to play out. You wanted to enjoy the marriage you had just built back up with the man you loved so much. “He’s really shown he can be a good, genuine person, Chaos, and I love him—so much.”

“I sense a but coming here.” You just laughed softly, shaking your head in defeat as Chaos eyed you down.

“But he told me once I’d never make it if I didn’t stop being scared to try and I dunno Chaos–I wanna be the best.” It felt like acid coming out of your mouth. You’d left Jake for his obsession with wanting to be the best, now it felt like you were about to do it all over again. Only this time it was you who had the obsession in sight. “But I can’t do it without him either.”

“You could always ask him to go with you, you know?” Chaos raised a brow gently. “I think Hangman would follow you to the edge of the earth if you asked him to.”

“The same way Rooster would for you?” For two women who were as fiercely independent as one another, you two had some pretty good men who would fall to their knees before you both. Chaos just laughed softly as she nodded in agreement. “I better get going, Coyotes taking me up on a fly over a little later and I've gotta make sure to empty the contents of my stomach before my feet hit the tarmac.”

“Ah so you're gonna pop your cherry?” Chaos grinned ear to ear. “I heard about this little endeavour to get you up in an F-18 before your ranking ceremony.”

“Please–” You groaned as you hid your face in your hands, your elbows resting on your knees. “Im so fucking scared Chaos.”

“I don't understand how you analyse flight patterns and organise these strike forces and attacks with tomahawks and drones and spend some much time on aircraft carriers and not to bring up the elephant in the room but you're married to a fighter pilot, and yet you have such a fear of flying!” Chaos beamed as she laid your phobia out for you.

“It's not funny alright!” You couldn't help but to laugh at yourself as you groaned in annoyance. “I don't even wanna do this but they all wont get off my dick about it, said i gotta go up at least once in my lifetime.”

“I agree, flying a fighter jet is the most fun you can have with your pants on!”

“You literally almost died on the last mission you went on Chaos.”

“I didn't almost die because I wasn't having fun.” Chaos felt like she needed to explain it to you so you maybe walked out of her hospital room a little less scared. “I almost died because the man I love needed me, and I'd do exactly what I did for him over and over again if it meant he was okay.” She cooed as you listened intently. “I can't wait to get back in the cockpit, it would take a lot for me to ever give it up–it's too exciting, too thrilling! But hey, what's the worst that's gonna happen right?” Chaos shrugged. “It's just a fly over.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“I don’t think we could have picked a better day to do this man.” Javy smirked as he walked around the perimeter of the two seater fighter jet. “Honest, she’s gonna fall in love with it.”

“I highly doubt she’ll go from irrational fear to being madly in love with flying Coyote.” Jake was very aware of your hesitations about this fly over, you’d asked him every possible question under the sun about the what ifs and the maybes. He’d even caught you one night last week reading over your final will and testament while enjoying a glass of red.

“I’m just dotting my I’s and crossing my T’s before you send me plummeting towards an untimely demise.” You joked as Jake came to kneel before you—removing your laptop from where it had made its home on your thighs before his hands snaked up the experience of your inner thighs, parting them with ease.

“Still! It’ll be good to get her up, I don’t even know how she’s managed to go this long without so much as going up in a Cessna.”

“It’s not inherently a part of her job description.” Jake replied as he followed Coyote around the aircraft—taking tags off and making sure everything was in proper working order. “She seems to be doing a damn good job without ever having flown too.”

“I’ll say.” Phoenix chimed in as she made her way over with Bob. “You better not mess my baby up Coyote—“ It was Phoenix’s plane that Coyote was flying with you today, his own had only been a one seater. With the promise of a passenger, Phoenix happily agreed to switch for the day. “Bobs grown awfully attached to the thing.”

“Don’t throw me under the bus!” Bob gasped. “You’re the one who carved your initials into the framework!” Jake couldn’t help but to laugh softly as he caught the sight of you all geared up and ready to go. In his mind you looked like a toddler just about ready for her first day of swimming lessons. All the bells and whistles on to help keep you afloat.

“Now just remember, if you need to spew, just spew—it’s always better out than it is in.” Rooster bumped into your shoulder as you nervously walked beside him.

“What happens if I need to shit myself?” It was supposed to be a joke, but the more time that lingered in between when you’d asked and when Rooster responded—the less and less it felt like a gag.

“Try not to do that.”

“Got it.”

“Ah! Look at you!” Jake was the first one beaming at you as you did a little twirl for him. “You look great Hawkeye!”

“She’s shitting herself by the sounds of it.” Rooster snickered as you elbowed his side, sending him doubling over with an oof sound as he clutched at his side. “Okay—yep, sorry ma’am.”

“How long is this gonna take?” You asked as you squinted, holding your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun before Jake took his aviators off and pleased them on your head. They were just a tad too big, but so was everything else you were wearing. From the spare Normex suit to the flight helmet.

“Half an hour give or take.” The shake horror of it all was finally starting to set in. This was the moment you’d been dreading ever since the idea had been conceived. You should have squashed it before it was able to bloom into a fully formulated and calculated endeavour. But now here you were—standing on the goddamn tarmac about to climb into a fighter jet. “But Coyote genuinely has some checks to run, so you’ll be coasting for most of it anyway, he’s even gonna take you over the gully—it’s beautiful Hawk you’ll love it.”

“Oh great yeah just what I wanted to hear, Hangman.” Jake grinned as you put a little more emphasis on his callsign than normal, ignoring the comment about the beautiful gully and focusing on the mentions of genuine checks. “What’s wrong with the thing!”

“Nothings wrong with the Super Hornet Hawk, it's just a routine service flight.” Phoenix shook her head as she stood with her arms crossed over her chest. “Normally I’d take the bird up but Javy was just so persistent in getting me to trade, how could I say no.”

“You should have had my back Nix.” You tisked at the only female aviator still standing. Everyone was missing Chaos but no one more than Bradley Bradshaw. “Well, can we get this over with already because I'm feeling ridiculously nervous and I’m worried if I put it off any longer instead of just ripping the band aid off I’ll pass out.”

“Alright, alright.” Jake cooed as he placed his arm around you, drawing you into his side as he kissed your temple. “Let's get you in the air Hawkeye.”

“I'm so nervous Jake–” You cooed as you walked with your husband towards the F-18.

“That's a totally appropriate emotion to be feeling.” Jake chuckled softly. “You’ll be fine, I have totally one hundred percent faith in Coyote.” Stopping momentarily to kiss your forehead. “Have you got your new posting yet or?” Shaking your head, Jake sighed. You hated lying to him, but you just hadnt made up your mind about what you wanted to do yet. Stay, or go.

“Not yet, but I'm sure I will soon.” It was as Jake began to walk with you towards the F-18 that Flumes ‘On Top’ starting barreling through the UE Boom speaker Fanboy had brought in his pocket. Seeing it as the most fitting time ever to start playing the hype song. Everybody laughed, including you. This endeavour wasn’t even remotely on your bucket list of things to achieve—but it was nice to have someone beside you so willing to help you conquer your fear, challenge you, get you outside your comfort zone.

“I'm just hyping you up ma’am!” Fanboy chuckled as he held the speaker above his head. “Goodluck! It's just like riding a bike!”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Javy Machado was a conservative fighter pilot. Much like his co-worker Rooster–he didn't take risks all that much. He played by the rules, he knew when and where to be a little risky, but majority of the time, he followed the rules of aerodynamics and kept his ego in check more so than most. He knew he was an exceptional aviator, otherwise he wouldn't have been called back to TopGun twice and asked to stay on as a permanent fixture on Miramar for the foreseeable future.

Javy flew every flight he took like he had something to lose. He never wanted his family or friends to receive the news he’d been killed in action or in a training exercise. He simply did what he had to do with calculated poise and a firm belief that whatever God was watching over him that day would take pity on him just one more time for just one more flight and get him through just one more day.

Javy Machado wasn't a praying man, but as he took off with the most precious cargo he;d ever flown with sitting right behind him, Javy said a small inaudible prayer to the God’s above–hoping that he could lessen your internal fears with a calm and problem free fly over.

“How you doing back there?” Coyote smirked as he steadied out on the throttle, levelling out after a textbook takeoff. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. A perfect sunny day that almost looked as if it were too good to be true.

“Am I dead yet?” You had your eyes closed as tight as ever, gripping onto your harness for dear life. Jake couldn't help but to laugh as he heard your voice come through the radio. He stood with the group in the rec room back at base. All laughing and watching as Coyote flew by in laps.

“No.” Coyote chuckled as he veered left a little. “If you feel like opening your eyes anytime soon you can look out and see the runway.” Slowly but surely, you peeled your eyelids open, coming into your view was the tarmac, the runway, the entirety of the Miramar base.

“Oh woah–” You instantly felt sick to your stomach although the view was beautiful. “I uh, I never knew I was afraid of heights until now–” You nervously chuckled out as you put your hand up against the cockpit. “Pretty though.”

“You think that's pretty, wait till we go over the gully!” Javy was getting excited. So far so good. Levelling out before swinging to the right, Jake watched as he flew further and further away from the base. The gully wasn't all that far from the runway, with binoculars Jake could keep an eye on you from his position by the window. Which he did.

“What made you wanna be an aviator, Javy?” You asked as you tried to relax a little, settling into the back seat but a little more. You’d known Javy Machado before for a long time, so long in fact he’d been a groomsman in yours and Jake's wedding. But when you left you fell out of contact–never having asked why he decided to do what he did.

“Just growing up on the bases really resonated with me from the beginning I guess.” He shrugged like it was a no brainer. To him though it had been, he couldn't remember wanting to do anything else ever. “My dad was a pilot before he retired a few years ago.”

“Ah, so it's in the blood.” You responded as you flew with Javy further and further towards the mountain range.

“Absolutely ma’am.” There was nothing out of the ordinary that Coyote had noticed as he did he checks. Running codes as he checked off system by system. “What made you want to be an analyst Hawkeye?”

“I wanted to be a clearance diver originally.” You explained as you felt the jet jolt a little. JAvy played his cards close to his chest though and didn't flinch. He knew you’d instantly panic if he gave away something was wrong. “But I didn't pass the initial fitness assessment, tapped out half way through because I couldn't handle the diet of up and go’s and dry electrolyte packets.”

“Understandable–” Coyote kept the conversation going as he noticed the left engine light blinking beside him. “I had a mate who wanted to be a marine and he said the training was damn near torture.”

“Did he make it through?” You asked, stiffening a little as the jet jolted again, this time more aggressively. You knew something was wrong. “Javy is everything alright?”

“Oh god no, he works for the state library now.” Coyote frowned as he tried to figure out what was going on before the situation escalated anymore than need be. “And yeah, everythings fine, Hawk, no need to worry, just sit back and rela–” Before Coyote could finish his sentence, Plumes of black thick smoke were spilling out from the left engine. “Holy shit–”

“Coyote?” You questioned as he saw the smoke as you turned in your seat. “Oh my god!” Jake was the first to notice the trouble happening in the sky while everyone listened in around the radio.

“Hangman hand me the binoculars–” Payback asked as he held his hand out. If something was happening he thought Jake was the last person who needed to see it unfold in real time. His wife and best friend both in the same Super Hornet.

“Fuck off.” Jake hissed as he keeped his eyes on the jet. “Phoenix, I thought you said there was nothing wrong with the–”

“There shouldn't be, I don't understand what's going on?” Phoenix’s voice was shaking as she came to stand by the window.

“Range Control this is Coyote and Hawk.” Javy’s voice came through the radio as the rest of his team listened in. “I've lost my left engine completely, there's dark smoke billowing out but there doesn't seem to be a fire–”

“Recommend return landing immediately.” Rage Control agreed as Coyote made a sharp left turn over the gully, heading back towards base. As soon as you were heading back though? Every bell and whistle in the cockpit began to ring out like a mantra of warnings. Something was seriously wrong.

“Oh god.” Javy was beginning to panic. “Range Control, I'm looking at a full system malfunction–everything gone!”

“Please tell me you can land this thing?” You didn't know when you'd started to cry, but your cheeks were wet nevertheless. “Coyote?”

“I gotta go–” Jake couldn't compute what was happening, he was in full panic mode. This wasn’t happening. Dropping the binoculars into Payback's hands as he turned on his heels.

“Hangman–” Roster gripped Jake's forearm, stopping him in his tracks. “Bro.”

“Emergency responders are gonna be getting ready for when they go down Bradshaw, i'm going with them.” Jake explained as his eyes began to water. This was his fault, he’d put you on that goddamn jet. “First she takes the entire system fails, what kind of sick fucking joke is this?”

“Keep it together man, you don't get to fall apart yet.” Rooster reminded the man who’d saved his life. “She’s gonna need you.”

“Maday, Maday, Maday!” Coytes voice cut through the painful silence that lingered around the rec room. “I've lost control! I have no control!”

“Holy shit they're really going down.” Bob had just caught onto the severity of the situation, he thought for sure whatever the problem had been Coyote could catch it. Bring it home. “Oh my god–”

Jake felt his entire world crashing down around him as the radio went static. He knew how you felt now when he’d disobeyed your direct orders to go after Bradshaw. He wasn't sure when he’d dropped to the fall of the rec room but it's exactly where he ended up as your screams cut through the radio just before the static took over. He could see the smoke trail leading off into the montrains. But no plane. No You.

“Hangman–” Phoenix tried her best to comfort the fallen aviator. “They’re gonna be alright yeah? It's Coyote and Hawk.” Her hand gently resting against his back as a sob no one had ever heard before escaped Jake's lips. He was lost without you–how could he put you in this position. If he lost you? Jake would never recover. There was a difference between losing you because of the marriage you had shared breaking down and losing you for good. At least if he lost you because you didn't love him anymore Jake could still sleep at night knowing you were somewhere on earth smiling, enjoying whatever or whoever was making you happy these days. But losing you for good, knowing that you weren't just somewhere else away from him enjoying life and living free, killed him.

“Ma’am—“ Coyote even in the face of uncertainty knew you outranked him by a mile. “See that yellow and black handle between your legs underneath the seat?” Looking down between your legs as Javy lost control of the F-18, you nodded in response before replying— realising he probably couldn’t see you.

“Yes!” It came out so panicked it broke Coyote's heart. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you’d never wanna get on another plane ever again. “I see it!”

“I need you to pull that on my count of three and put nice your out, pull the red handle on your vest alright, it’s your parachute—“

“Okay!” You shouted over warning bells and whistles as they echoed out through the cockpit. “I’ve got it—!”

“In three, two—“ Coyote had only ever injected from an F-18 once in his life. Now he was doing it for a second time with his best friend's wife. He knew deep down if someone happened to you Jake would never forgive him. But he couldn’t think about that until you were on the ground at least. “One—“

With your cue given—both you and Javy pulled your ejection handles. What you didn’t expect was the sheer force of your seats jolting you up into the canopy that had haphazardly opened from the system malfunctions. You screamed as you fell through the sky uncontrollably, reaching out for the red lever on your harness. Pulling as hard as you possibly could as you caught eyes on Coyote still free falling uncontrollably towards the ground. The tree line not too far away.

“COYOTE!!” You screamed so loud you burned your throat. He wasn’t slowing down. You didn’t see him develop his shoot. “JAVY—!”

Everything that could have gone wrong for your first flight in an F-18 did. So caught up watching Coyote yesterday didn’t see how fast you were coming into land. You hit the tree line seconds after with a thud that rendered you out cold as you fell and smacked against branch after branch after branch.

“Jake if you’re gonna go you gotta go now I can see the patrol car loading up.” Mickey explained as he looked out the window. For a man who normally knew how to compose himself Jake Seresin was a mess. Had he just lost his wife? His best friend? His entire world? He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think of anything besides your beautiful face. How could he have done this to you? He forced you into this—you’d practically begged him to drop the idea ever since Jake had first brought it up. The taste of guilt was vile of his tongue.

“Hangman!” Phonic snapped. “Snap out of it and get off the damn floor!” She raised her voice and changed her tone—breaking through the haze that had begun to cloud Jake's vision. “Go find them.”

“Guys–” Payback choked out a soft mumble. “I didn't see any parachutes.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Jake raced as fast as he could over to where the medics were piling into the truck. An off-road vehicle specially designed for scenarios like this. He’s kind was clouded with the sound of your screams. The kind of scream you let out when you were utterly terrified.

“I need to go with you.” He wasn’t asking, no. Jake was telling. “That was my wife—“

“Sir, it's authorised personnel only.” One of the men said as he tried to shut the door only for Jake to grab at the door frame with his full strength. Sir—“

“I just watched my wife burn in, did you fucking hear me!?” He shouted. Rooster was racing down the tarmac from the exit of the building he’d watched Jake take a few moments ago. “My fucking wife was on that F-18 and if you don’t take me to her right now so help me god I’ll—“

“What he means to say is that he’d be forever grateful if you could just bend the rules just this once because he’s losing his mind.” Rooster placed his hand on Jakes shoulder as he bit his tongue and exhaled slowly. “Look, what if it was someone you loved?” Rooster asked the medic who was being far too stand-offish for his liking. But he’d broken him down regardless. “Hawk and Coyote aren’t just colleagues, they’re family.”

“Get in.” The medic huffed reluctantly, knowing that sitting here arguing was only waisting valuable time.

“Thank you—“ Jake sighed as he jumped into the back. “Thank you so much.”

“Jake?” Rooster caught his attention through the window. “I know how you must be feeling, but Hawk? She’s a fighter.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

You weren't sure what brought you back to reality as you swayed gently in the breeze. Whether it was the pain radiating in your spine or the throbbing numbness of your left leg. Perhaps it was the sound of the burning Super Hornet not a few clicks north, or if it was the smell of jet fuel being burnt at temperatures that exceeded that of which humans could handle. Why were you hanging in a tree? Why were you in a flight suit? And why could you see a flight helmet that had the call sign ‘Coyote’ written across it on the ground?

“Coyote?” You sobbed as you looked above, your parachute had become twisted and lodged in a tree. Forcing you to dangle in mid air. Trapped as you swayed gently in the breeze that raced through the gully. “Coyote?” Looking down at just how far the ground was from where you dangled above it didn't seem all that high. You could make the jump. “Coyote you there?” Again, for the third time–there was no response as you looked around while blindly searching for the clip on your stomach that would free you from your harness. “Okay okay okay okay, the worst of it is over–you got this you got this you got this.” Squinting your eyes tight as you hit the release, you were sent flying towards the ground below with an oof as you hit the dirt. “Ah fuck!”

Everything hurt. That was to be expected after ejecting from a near fatal fighter yet crash. Bite size snippets were flooding back to you as you blinked back tears. But you knew immediately something wasn't right when you hit the ground. Deciding to just lay there for a moment and breathe. Turning your head slightly you spotted a mess of canvas close by. A numbness you weren’t sure of radiating through your spine and down your legs.

“Javy?” You sobbed out again to no response. “Dammit you son of a bitch–” Rolling over onto your hands and knees, you slowly but surely stood with a gasp. Getting your teeth as you hobbled over, you were too afraid to look down because you knew by how it felt alone that your leg was broken. Your femur snapped clean in half from hitting the tree branches like a pinball. “Javy, man–you okay?” At this point you weren't even sure why you were still talking, you hadnt had a response since you'd come to. “Sick joke if you ask me–” Dropping down beside the mess of canvas, you fished Coyote out, pulling him into your lap with all your strength before assessing the damage.

He had a bloodied nose, that was all you could see physically–but when you pressed your fingers to the pulse point of his neck you felt nothing. Deciding your judgement was clouded by adrenaline, you opted for a second source, checking his wrist–again, no pulse.

“Fuck!” Although every time you moved it sent pins and needles shooting up your spine and made the base of your head feel oddly bizarre, you laid Javy on his back as you moved beside him. “Absolutely not, you don't get to do this to me!” Unclipping his harness and unzipping his Normex suit, you interlocked your fingered and with all your strength, began compressions. “One, two, three, four–” So on and so forth you counted and repeated the rhythm to Stayin Alive by the Bee Gees. “Come on Javy, come on!” You didn't stop, with every compression more and more blood spilled out from your leg where your femur had slashed through flesh, seeping into the normex suit. You felt light headed, weak even. Your spine felt like jelly as you tried to support yourself. “Ill never forgive you if you fucking die on me, COME ON!!”

“Y/n!” You could hear Jake's voice calling out your name but you never stopped to look around as you kept doing compressions. “They’re over here!” Without so much as hesitating—Jake was racing across the gully to get to you. “Y/n!!” Coming to crouch beside you, Jake assessed the situation. He had to get to you. He had to see for himself if the decision to put you on that goddamn F-18 cost him everything. “You don’t know how sorry I am, I’m so sorry baby.”

“Can’t stop—“ You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you kept going with your compressions. “One, two, three, four—“ You repeated each compression you have. “He’s not breathing— why won’t he just breathe dammit!”

“Hawk, Y/n—baby you’re in shock.” Jake cooed as he saw your thigh, how you were still going he had no idea. Your leg was broken, the pain must have been excruciating. “Your legs broken.” Jake didn’t know if you knew or if you could even feel the broken bone from all the adrenaline. All his attention though, although he’d feel guilty about it later, was all on you.

“I don’t know how long he hasn’t been breathing!” You told one of the paramedics as they placed their hands over the top of yours as if to tell you your job was done. Taking over as Jake dragged you back and into his arms. “Fuck you!” You cried out as Jake placed his hand on your forehead to guide you head against his chest. “Fuck you both!”

“It’s alright, you’re alright—“ Jake was holding back his own tears as he watched the paramedics work on his best friend. One of them making their way over to assess you as you laid in Jake's arms. “I love you so much, I’m so sorry—I never should’ve put you in that jet baby.”

“I hate you—I hate you I’ll never forgive you—I hate you.” Jake knew your anger was coming from a place deep inside you. “Do you hear me? I. Hate. You.” Jake knew you didn’t actually hate him, or Javy. But you hated flying and the fact you’d just been through something unprecedented after being so adamantly against the idea, you needed to get your anguish out. Jake was just the closest person who you could take it out on. That’s what he thought at least:

“I hear you Hawk I hear you.” But it didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“Commander Seresin, my names Racheal, I’m one of the base emergency responders, can you wiggle your toes for me?” You tried to do as Racheal told you but you couldn’t. You couldn’t even feel that she’d been applying pressure on your ankles for the better half of a minute now. “Okay, no need to worry, we’re gonna get you in a neck brace and pop you on a stretcher—just for precautions.”

“It’s Lieutenant Commander.” You quickly incorrectly corrected Racheal. “Why can’t I feel my legs?” Panic was starting to rise in your throat, the adrenaline that had been causing through your veins had started to subside and with that came more and more pain. “I can’t feel my legs—Oh my god, I can’t—“ Before you could spiral too much, Jake was cooing in your ear as he held you close. Supporting you.

“You’re alright baby I’ve got you.” Jake had blood on his hands from where your thigh had been slashed and cut by bone. Applying pressure to stop the bleeding. “I’m sure it’s just the adrenaline—“ He tried to find a reasonable explanation as to why you couldn’t wiggle your toes but as he looked to Rachael the first responder her face said otherwise.

“Ma’am, I’m gonna place this neck brace around your neck alright, try not to move.” It was of the utmost importance from this moment onward that you remained as still as possible. Jake held you still as Racheal secured the brace. “Good job, okay now all I want you to do for me is let your husband and I lay you down on this stretcher here.

“Ex husband—“ Jake frowned for a split second as you corrected Racheal with the wrong information. “Ex husband, we’re separated.”

“Uh—“ Jake didn’t know what to say, but Racheal looked at him with an explanation lingering in her lips.

“You two married?” She asked.

“Yeah, yeah we were uh, separated for a while there but for the last six weeks we’ve been good, I thought we were really good actually.” Racheal just nodded as she reached for her radio. “Something's wrong isn’t it?”

“Why are you here Jake?” You asked with an annoyance in your tone, like you couldn’t understand why he was here. Of all people. “Why was I on that F-18?” Jake didn’t know how to answer, he didn’t reply as he let a few tears escape past his waterline as he watched Racheal radio back to base.

“This is ground patrol, we’ve got two victims located on the upper north side gully of deadman’s ridge, one responsive one not.” The radio transmission could be heard back at the base as everyone sat around waiting for any news in the Rec room. “Male pilot, unconscious and unresponsive—female back seater, possible broken back and seems to be suffering some level of amnesia—“

“Holy shit, Coyote—“ Bradley was the first one to comfort Phoenix as she gasped in shock, pulling her into his arms as this all his way too close to home for him. Bob was stunned into a state of shock and disbelief. Unable to move from his position by the window as Fanboy came to his side. Speechless.

“They’ll get him back.” Payback was the first one to speak. “It’s Javy, he’s not gonna throw in the towel that easily, right?”

“Hawks not gonna remember any of the last few weeks—“ Bob spoke just barely above a whisper. “The mission, her promotion, Chaos, getting back together with Hangman—us.“

“I’ve got a pulse!” One of the many paramedics working on Javy called out. He took priority. “Where the hell's that chopper!?”

“Okay Y/n, we're gonna move you onto this spinal board now just to help us transport you back to the base hospital—“ Racheal explained as she placed the bright orange stretcher right up against you. “Jake and I are gonna be really careful moving you and I need you to just go with the flow and stay as still as possible for me.”

“I can’t feel my legs—“ It was becoming like a mantra. The only thing you could say, because you couldn’t feel your legs. “But I can’t feel my legs—“

“I know ma’am.” Racheal said as she prepared to lift you from your legs while Jake moved to position himself further behind you, laying you down gently on the ground. “But we’re hoping that it’s only temporary—“

“Come on baby you gotta be strong for me—“

“Why the fuck would I do anything for you?” It stung, but Jake knew that if anything it was just the amnesia talking. “I still don’t understand why you’re fucking here Jake!”

“Because I love you with all my heart baby, you know that.” Jake was dying—he felt like someone had ripped his heart out and had rung it out. The wind had been knocked out of him, the world had stopped spinning. Without you Jake felt empty, he felt like he had been shoved back in time. Back to a time where you couldn’t stand the sight of him. You couldn’t remember every moment of the past six weeks. Which meant to you Jake Seresin was still your ex. “Because you’re my whole world.”

“Okay on three—“ Racheal stated, breaking the tension between you and Jake. “One, two, three!”

“AAHHHH—!!” It was a god awful cry. Jake couldn’t take it, letting his tears fall freely as he helped place you down on the stretcher. “Ahhhh Fuck!”

“Okay, we have to get these two outta here.” Racheal addressed her colleagues as she strapped you in.

Jake?” It came out more paid than you would have liked it to, but you needed to air your honest opinion. Looking up at Jake as he looked down on you. Crouching so he could touch your cheek softly.

“Yeah baby, I’m here—I’ve got you.” He cooed, not expecting the statement you rocked his world with to fall from your lips.

“I don’t care why you’re here—“ You sobbed, why the fuck your ex husband was here to begin with you had no idea.

“I still want a divorce.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Author Note: THANKYOU ALL SO MUCH! For the continued support for this series and in addition the Chaos Series.

Tags: @justanothermagicalsara @alexsisrebekah @stinkyjax @starkleila @luckyladycreator2 @love2write2626 @shanimallina87 @dempy @mintellaine @kiarabellerum31 @abaker74 @shadowsndaisies @haworldwidefunnyguy @peakascum @ssprayberrythings @averyhotchner @itsemohours @shawnsblue

#to have & to hold // jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin smut #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman x y/n #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #hangman fic #hangman seresin

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forsty · 1 year

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PREV Hangman's encounter with Death

#top gun maverick #top gun #tgm #jake hangman seresin #fanart #bradley rooster bradshaw #BUT NOT REALLY THOUGH #forsty art #holds up my personification of Death: I just think he's neat!#im having tons of fun with this idea tbh

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laceyamethyst · 1 year

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back in my 'overanalyzing every frame of tg:m' mood and can we just appreciate how fucking insanely happy hangster looked when hangman saved mav and rooster at the end?

the first thing rooster does when he sees hangman and hears his boyfriend's smug ass voice over the comms is laugh out of pure relief because only jake fucking seresin love-of-his-goddamn-life would crack a joke like that after saving him from certain death. like look at rooster's heart eyes here.

and minutes later... look at hangman's face as he returns to the carrier and TELL ME it isn't the face of a man who's so out of his mind giddy that he's just saved his love's life, like he can't WAIT to hold rooster tight as soon as he gets out of that plane. he ain't ever letting go.

#hangman #rooster #just me overanalyzing #but these two have such a hold on me it's crazy #hangster #sereshaw #rooster x hangman #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #tg:m #top gun maverick #they are IN LOVE YOUR HONOR

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agreatandhonorablesoldier · 2 years

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I have no reason for this.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #topgunedit #topgunmaverickedit #glen powell #I have no reason for this other than sporty spice. wait. hold on. i got an idea.#*My gifs

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mercurygray · 2 years

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listen i've mainlined a lot of very thirsty phoenix/hangman fic in the last two hours and i'm having a lot of thoughts about how Bob feels about this, in the, you know, awkward roommate who is also your good friend who is also sort of a little in love with you sort of way

#hangman/phoenix #also someone hold me i have a lot of first name feels #i should probably get a tag for this so you all can opt out #robert bob floyd #natasha phoenix trace #jake hangman seresin

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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 months

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Hotter Than Texas | Part I

(unofficially: Brother's Worst Enemy)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

Alrighty y'all, this is for everyone who has so patiently waited for me to make this a thing XD Not sure if I could squeeze a whole series out of this one but we shall see. Maybe at least a part 2. Enjoy!

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

The mission is simple. Collect Seresin Junior from the train station near the main gate of the base and deliver said cargo to the Seresin homestead in Eastern Texas on his way to Atlanta, Georgia for a long overdue visit with his grandparents. It isn’t rocket science. It sure as hell doesn’t hold a candle to the canyon run he pulled off just the other month. And yet, Bradley’s drumming his fingers anxiously on the hood of his Bronco as he leans into its frame, waiting on the trolley from downtown San Diego.

While Jake and Bradley have recently made peace after their longstanding cold war, Bradley isn’t exactly thrilled to meet another one of his kind. Besides, he isn’t one for small talk, and the prospect of spending the next two days with a complete stranger is downright daunting. He prefers music to conversation and he’s hoping that his road trip companion won’t be offended when he turns up the radio and forgets there’s anybody else in the car.

When Hangman had asked for the favor, he assured Bradley that he was his last choice – which wasn’t exactly a compliment, but Bradley appreciated the gesture, nonetheless. By the end of the term, there was nobody from their squadron left on base except Bradley, and he would be heading east anyway, might as well provide shuttle service while he’s at it.

As the trolley whistles into the station, Bradley pushes off his car and straightens his back, watching the tinted windows as they zip by, a blur at first and then gradually separating as the trolley comes to a stop.

Bradley leaves his car to walk around the fence, not quite sure how he’s going to be greeting a person he’s never before seen, but it’s not like he’s going to fashion a sign for the occasion. He sticks his hands into his pockets, the breeze picking up his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt like a parachute before it starts whipping around his torso in the wind tunnel on the platform.

He glances around at the commuters stepping off the trolley, trying to pick out the blondes that might resemble his colleague, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns his head, just as you say, “Rooster, right?”

He blinks at you, slightly disoriented. You look nothing like Hangman, thank fuck, because Bradley can’t take his eyes off you and, as inappropriate as this reaction is, it would make it that much worse if you did. He gives you a sideways grin. “What gave me away?” he says.

“My brother told me to find the dorkiest guy at the station,” you respond, grinning at him.

Bradley chuckles. “So, you’re walking to Texas, then,” he says, stepping around you.

You laugh, struggling to redirect the wheels of your suitcase.

Bradley bends down to grab the handle. “I can take that,” he says, tucking away the retractable bar and lifting it off the ground by the strap.

“Thanks,” you say, cringing slightly as Bradley lifts the luggage as though you’re embarrassed by its weight.

But after the countless exercise drills over the years, Bradley hardly notices that it’s heavy. In fact, he could probably carry it over his head. He eyes you inconspicuously as you fall in step with him, wondering if perhaps that might impress you – not that he wants to impress you.

“Actually, he said I couldn’t miss you because you’d be a head taller than everyone else, and probably wearing a very bright shirt.”

Bradley looks over at you with a grin. “Hopefully I didn’t disappoint?”

You eye his shirt flapping in the breeze. “I found you, didn’t I?”

Bradley lifts your suitcase into the trunk of his car and walks around to open your door for you.

You give him a suspicious look. “Thanks,” you say.

Bradley nods at you, offering a hand to help you in. Once you’re seated, he shuts the door behind you and exhales unsteadily the kind of sigh that often accompanies a guilty conscience. There’s no way he could possibly get entangled in a mess of this magnitude. And a colossal mess it would become if he were to develop any sort of soft spot for his recent enemy’s baby sister. Bradley, being a sensible, mature adult, understands this unequivocally. But, when he rounds the car and climbs into the driver’s seat next to you, the notion that he’s not allowed under any circumstances to find you attractive flies right out his rolled down window.

This is because you’re already tuning the radio like you own the place and because you smell like a goddess. Bradley has no clue whether it’s your hair or your perfume or your goddamn essence that’s permeated his upholstery in under ten seconds, but whatever it is, he certainly wouldn’t mind smelling it on his sheets in the morning.

Fuck. He’s fucking fucked.

“This alright?” you ask casually, as if you didn’t just hijack a stranger’s radio.

He cringes at the stereo; he’ll have to work on your taste in music. “Got your seatbelt on?” he asks as he pulls out.

You turn around in your seat and pull on the seatbelt.

Bradley promptly hits the breaks and you lurch forward slightly, the seatbelt in your hand getting stuck on its way out. He looks over at you with an air of seriousness despite the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “The seatbelt should be the first thing you do when you enter a vehicle.” Not fiddle with the radio, he adds silently.

You raise your eyebrows at him in amusement. “Okay, dad.”

Bradley nearly shudders at your response. He’s probably a good ten years older than you, so, really, while dad might be stretching it, you’re not too far off. “Keep up that attitude and you’ll be listening to Metallica the whole way home.”

You smirk at him. “I like Metallica, so joke’s on you, bud.”

Bradley starts driving again. “If you like Metallica, then why are we listening to this trash?”

Your jaw drops and you reach for the volume dial to turn up the song. “How dare you?”

Bradley rolls his eyes. Something tells him he’s in for a wild ride.

…

About two hours later, Bradley pulls into a small gas station just past the border into Arizona.

“Want something to eat?” he asks, leaning across the console to pop his glove compartment and pull out his wallet. “Or drink?”

You purse your lips. “I could go for a coffee.”

“How do you like it?” he asks.

“With a pinch of salt.”

Bradley gapes at you. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

You snort. “I’m not joking. You should try it! Cuts the bitterness in half, my friend.”

Bradley cringes. “The bitterness is why I drink it.”

You shake your head and declare wisely, “You’ll see.”

“That you’re a nutcase?” Bradley mutters under his breath as he exits the car. He jogs over to the convenience store, determinedly blocking out the seductive quality of your persuasive tone. You could probably convince him to drink a pint of his own urine if you set your mind to it.

Bradley drums impatiently on the counter, waiting for the clerk to finish restocking one of the shelves with chips. While he’s waiting, he glances out to check on you as if you’re a child under his charge. You’ve stepped out of the Bronco to stretch your legs and Bradley doesn’t like the way the two guys in the convertible in behind are eyeing you.

Bradley cranes his neck to check on the clerk’s progress and lets out a stifled sigh. When he looks back outside, he sees that one of the men has approached you and, well, Bradley isn’t about to wait to see what happens next. He drops a bill on the counter and calls out, “Keep the change,” to the clerk before practically slamming his way through the doors with the coffees in his hands.

Why it bothers him that some random dude might want your number is not of consequence. What matters is that Bradley gets rid of this asswipe before you start enjoying his company.

He strides confidently past the man chatting you up and stops right in between you and him, handing you a coffee.

“Careful, it’s hot,” he cautions moodily, not entirely sure how to go about handling a situation in which, objectively speaking, he has no real authority.

You meet his gaze with a small smile. “You don’t say,” you respond with all the sultriness of a blazing, desert sun.

Bradley’s gaze remains unwaveringly on you as he unhooks a pair of Ray-Bans from the neck of his muscle shirt and slides them over his eyes. “Ready to go?” he asks in a level tone, hoping he can avoid what is bound to be an unpleasant interaction with the man still standing behind him.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” the man speaks up. “Didn’t realize you were with someone, honey.”

Bradley keeps his eyes on yours for several moments longer, trying his best not to show the irritation he feels at the way this rando just called you ‘honey’. Reluctantly, he turns to face him, wondering what in the world he could say that wouldn’t make him sound jealous as fuck.

But before Bradley could speak, you slide casually into his side, leaning on him like it’s the most natural thing. “That’s just fine,” you say to the man. “No harm, no foul.”

Bradley looks down at your head as it nestles into his shoulder and then lifts his arm to let you move in closer. Trying to play it cool, he skims the tips of his fingers across your lower back, which is warm and feels like the perfect place to rest his hand.

Convertible guy promptly departs, and Bradley is left standing in an embrace with the one person on the entire planet for whom he should never catch feelings, at a derelict gas station on the outskirts of arid Yuma, Arizona, and the heat is really starting to get to him. Slowly, you start to peel yourself away and Bradley, sensing your withdrawal, drops his hand and recoils from you like you’ve burnt him.

Did it feel nice pretending you were his girl? Sure did. Is he going to erase it from his memory and never let himself so much as shake your hand again? Absolutely.

Read Part 2

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments probably tomorrow!

@joaquinwhorres

@katiemcrae

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@toomuchfluffs

@wintercap89

@lonelywitchv2

@callsign-jupiter

@rosiahills22

@olliepig

@coffeeaddictedmay

@boringusername3

@ratedtvpg

@mak-32

@annedub

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@callsign-sunshine

@shanimallina87

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@wkndwlff

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@daniibzz

@avis15

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@ijustwantedplums

@hal3ynicol3

@avengersfan25

@hallecarey1

@nik2blog

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@lovingperfectionsblog

@bblpbb

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@SometimesAnAlice

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@mattyskies

@desert-fern

@catsandbooksandstuff

@Topguncultleader

@avengers-fixation

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withahappyrefrain · 9 months

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The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It

Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.

Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)

Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!

"Your hands are so big."

It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.

"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."

Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.

Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?

You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.

"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.

"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.

"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.

"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.

Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-

"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"

You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."

As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"

Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"

"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.

"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.

You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.

Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.

"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.

"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.

"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.

It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".

"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.

"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.

With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."

"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.

"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.

It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.

"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.

God damn it.

You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.

Honey: We need to go to Plan C.

Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?

Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.

Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?

Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.

Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽

Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.

Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.

Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.

"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.

"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.

"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.

It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.

You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.

"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.

Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"

You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"

Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.

"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.

Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.

"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.

"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.

"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.

Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"

He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.

Time for Plan D.

"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"

"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.

"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"

It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.

"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.

"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.

"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.

When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.

"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.

If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.

"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.

Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."

It took everything in you not to scream.

The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.

With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.

Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board

Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.

Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?

Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate

Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?

Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!

Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?

You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!

Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?

Bagman: Like 52% nude.

Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.

Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?

Bagman: No that's plan G

"Hey Bee!"

The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.

"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."

"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."

"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."

The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."

You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.

Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.

"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.

Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"

You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.

After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.

Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.

The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.

Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."

"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.

In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.

You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.

His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.

So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-

"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."

This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.

Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.

The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.

He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.

Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?

Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.

You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.

"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.

"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.

"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.

His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.

You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.

"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.

"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.

"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.

"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."

His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"

"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.

"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"

You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.

"The first day of training?" He repeated.

"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."

Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.

"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.

His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.

Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.

When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.

"FINALLY!"

You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.

You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.

Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.

Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.

"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?

"Let's go."

He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.

"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.

"Making up for lost time!"

Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.

The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.

Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.

You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.

"Why do you keep doing that?!"

"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."

"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."

"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.

Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.

His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.

What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?

You wanted to know everything.

But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.

Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.

"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.

Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.

"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.

"I would love that Robby."

Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"

You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."

He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"

"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.

"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"

"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.

"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"

"As most things are."

"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."

You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.

"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.

"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.

"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.

"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.

Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"

Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.

#my writing #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd fic #bob top gun #top gun bob #top gun maverick fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd

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ddejavvu · 11 months

Note

I’d love to see a jake seresin x secret wife au. The dagger squad doesn’t realize he’s married until Phoenix invites reader out to the bar with them! Thanks you’re the best!!

You're reminded just how little you know Natasha when she invites you out for drinks, and you end up at the bar adjacent to the naval base. You've been inside only once with Jake before, when you were still dating and he was going through training at top gun. Now he's a graduate, and the place brings back fond memories. You've chatted, of course, when she stops by for breakfast at the bakery you work for, but you've never discussed her career before.

"Hope you don't mind we're close to base," She grins, "My friends wanted to meet here, and I get free drinks 'cause the bartender likes me. They have this bell system to embarrass all the assholes here, and I think I ring it more than she does."

"I've been here before," You admit, tentatively grabbing her arm as she weaves through the crowd, "My husband and I came here once, a long time ago. I don't think the bartender was a woman, though."

"She just bought the place a few years ago," Natasha nods, sliding onto a stool at the bar, "Careful, don't put your phone on the bar."

You tuck the device safely away in your pocket as a brunette woman turns to you, a sweet smile on her face as she recognizes Natasha.

"Hey, Phe," She hums, and you don't have time to ask what the nickname means, "Brought a friend?"

"I'm Y/N," You introduce yourself, noting that they seem like close friends, "It's nice to meet you. I'm Penny."

You nod and beam at her when she offers you an identical bottle of beer to the one Natasha takes. You decline, though, ordering your usual instead. Jake's out with his friends tonight, but he's pledged to be a responsible drinker in case you need to be picked up from your girls' night.

"Can I get, uh," Natasha peers through the crowd, turning back when you assume she's found her target, "Five more?"

"Fanboy's got one already," Penny hums, taking four chilled bottles from beneath the counter, "You want help carrying them?"

"We're good!" You wrap one hand around two bottles, trusting Natasha to lead you towards her friends in the hectic crowd. You don't remember it being this busy when you'd come with Jake, maybe the new management really helped.

She treks you all the way over to a pool table along the wall, where a few men in jeans and t-shirts are huddled. You're taken by surprise, though you're not sure why. You'd automatically assumed her friends would be women, and you wonder if that's concerning. Possible internal bias aside, you smile at the men who stand to greet you.

"Hello," You wave, handing off beers to the two that meet you first,"I'm Y/N, you're Natasha's friends?"

"We are," A tall man grins, holding a hand out for you to shake now that it's not wrangling beers, "I'm Reuben. But you can call me Payback, if you want."

Natasha still has one of the beers in her hands, and you hear the man beside her, who she greets as Fanboy, mention something about the bathroom. Apparently you still have someone to meet.

You refocus on Reuben, "Payback," You tilt your head slightly to the side, "Is that a callsign? Are you a pilot?"

"We all are," The man who'd taken the other beer from you nods along with Payback, a burnt red mustache on his lip, "Natasha's is Phoenix. And I'm Rooster."

Your stomach drops.

"Wait, uh- Rooster? And- and Phoenix, and Payback," Your head spins slightly with recollections of Jake's crazy work stories, and you take a step back, "Are you- you're all stationed to this base?"

"Temporarily," Rooster frowns, "Hey, are you okay?"

"My husband-" You don't get the words out before he emerges from the bathroom, stopping dead in his tracks with a furrow in his brow that wrinkles his forehead.

"Darlin'?" He calls, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Jake?" You're equally incredulous, "I- these are the friends you're going out with?"

"Yeah, I-" He wanders closer, still at a general loss for words, "You know Phoenix?"

"Natasha gets breakfast at the bakery," You breathe, now that he's close enough to hear your dumbfounded murmur. You have an audience, but you don't care, not as Jake's confused expression melts into a sheepish smile.

"Well, small world. You look stunning tonight, honey."

"Thanks," You grin bashfully, keeping one hand on your drink and using the other to cup his cheek, tugging him down into a quick kiss. No matter how chaste it is, it gets a reaction.

"Oh," Fanboy gawps, "You're- her husband? You- Hangman, dude, you're married?"

"I am," Jake hums, ringing an arm around your waist and taking the beer from Natasha that she's too shock-stricken to hand to him. He pops the cap off on the edge of the pool table, bringing the fizzing mouth to his lips for a swig. He swallows, "Six years and counting."

"You're married to Hangman," Natasha- er, Phoenix repeats, "You married him?"

"Uh, I did," You laugh, twisting the ring on your finger.

"He never wears a ring," Rooster narrows his eyes at Jake accusatorily, "What, you're keeping her hidden away or something?"

"No," Jake scoffs, "It kept getting dirty when I was doing maintenance on my jet. I keep it on my dog tags, Bradshaw."

He brandishes the chain with both his ID and wedding band on it, and Rooster takes a swig of beer in response.

"How the hell was I supposed to know that, man? I don't stare at your chest in the locker room."

"Well you're missin' out," Jake drawls, turning to grin at you, "Ain't that right, honey?"

"Jake," You hiss, "Not here!'

"Oh, don't get all fussy. Most of these guys have seen my dick," He waves a dismissive hand in the air, nearly spilling his beer. You swear you hear someone mumble, 'unfortunately', but Jake drowns them out, "They don't care if we flirt. Hey, whaddya say we sharpen up those pool skills of yours?"

"Alright," You nod, letting him lead you over to the table, "Natasha, can you hold my drink?"

She takes it like it's her duty to protect you, even though your big strong husband has just bent you over the pool table. It takes you a few tries to be able to hit the ball at all with your clumsy grip on the cue, but when it finally cascades the colorful targets around the table, Jake whoops, landing a congratulatory smack to your ass that his friends groan at.

"Nice goin', darlin'. Gonna beat Bradshaw into the ground in no time."

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x y/n #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader

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bussyslayer333 · 1 year

Text

it’s all about you

summary: 4 times Jake thought about marrying you and the 1 time he did.

pairing: jake seresin x girlfriend!reader

word count: 5.9k

warnings: allusions to smut throughout, mentions of alcohol, swearing, jake being whipped!! MDNI 18+

“Cookies or Brownies?” you hum, rifling through your kitchen cupboards.

“Cookies, we’re not monsters babe.” Jake replies seriously from where he’s stood behind you, checking out your ass.

You snap back up with a cheer and the brown sugar you were looking for in tow. Jake quickly diverts his gaze in favour of not getting caught and decides that your fridge magnets are suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

His intense inspection of the little windmill stuck to your fridge has you snorting, quickly turned into a squeal when Jake pats your behind with a little more force than intended.

“Jake!”

“What?” He spins around as if to look for someone else who could have committed the offending action.

“You’re stupid.” You giggle, jutting your hip out to hit his own.

Jake reciprocates the action before finally picking up a wooden spoon and smacking it against his palm loudly.

“Where do you need me chef?”

“Fold the butter into the brown sugar,” you instruct, “softly.”

Jake rolls his eyes purposefully obnoxiously and sighs loudly, “I know.”

“Don’t make me remind you of cupcake gate.”

Jake’s attitude drops, “we agreed not to bring that up.”

“I play petty Seresin, now fold. Gently.” You sass.

Jake chuckles at your demeanour and gets to work, following your orders to complete the cookie dough.

Once complete and set to chill in the freezer, Jake goes to leave the kitchen but instead watches on in amusement as you pace around anxiously. After your third rearrangement of the trinkets on the window sill he interrupts.

“Babe, what are you doing?”

You sigh dramatically and throw yourself into his arms.

“I’m nervous.”

Jake snorts, “why?”

You pull back from where you face was smushed into his chest and pout, “don’t be mean. I’m scared they won’t like my cookies. Or me, for that matter.”

Jake’s thumb strokes absentmindedly over your cheek in an act of comfort.

“All kids like cookies. Fact.” He states, “and they’re gonna love you because they love me and I love you.”

“I don’t want to be their uncle Jake’s lame girlfriend who makes bad cookies.” You bite at your pushed out lip.

“You won’t be, now let’s bake these suckers.”

Jake pats your ass playfully as you bend down to retrieve the cookie dough.

“Put the oven on.” You order.

Jake mock salutes, “yes, chef.”

You run through about ten outfits before finally settling on what to wear, and as you brush through your hair once more, the doorbell goes.

You can hear Jake and his sister talking downstairs as well as the excited giggles of his nieces. When you finally descend the stairs Jake’s sister is smiling up at you.

“It’s great to see you again!” She gives you a one armed hug, the other holding the girls backpacks.

“You too!” You look down to where the girls are holding on to each of Jake’s hands, “and it’s great to meet you girls!”

The younger of the two immediately leaps forward and grabs onto your hand, “I’m Ellie, you’re pretty,” she singsongs.

You bend down and wipe at a smudge on her face, “Not as pretty as you!”

Ellie giggles determinedly and turns back to her mom to smile.

“Ellie, Olive, be good okay?” Jake’s sister nods her head to the two girls before looking back up to the two of you, “and thank you for looking after them on such short notice.”

Jake rolls his eyes, “you know it’s fine, now go have fun.”

“Thank you!” She smiles before kissing the girls on the heads and making her exit.

You look back down to the girls, Ellie is still clinging onto your hand with a smitten look on her face. Her golden curls are kept in two pigtails with small scrunchies. She’s adorable and can’t be older than 5.

When you avert your gaze to Olive, she seems to blush slightly. She is partially hidden by Jake’s large frame but you can still make out her blue eyes and long, mousy brown hair. She looks much older than Ellie, probably about 9 or 10. Much more reserved as well.

“It’s nice to meet you Olive!” You beam.

She nods in your direction, “hi.” It’s almost a whisper but you smile in acknowledgement anyways.

“Jakey I’m hungryyyyy,” Ellie drags out the “e” sound of her Y.

“Well that won’t do will it, Ellie bellie?” Jake teases, dropping Olive’s hand in favour of scooping Ellie up into his arms.

Olive chuckles awkwardly at the commotion and fiddles with the straps of her bag as Jake carries Ellie towards the kitchen where the cookies are almost finished. You can sense a small amount of anxiety radiating off of her, you were similar at that age. Never quite feeling in place. It suddenly becomes your duty to make sure she understands it’s okay.

“I love your hair, it’s so long!” You smile comfortingly at her, reaching out to fiddle with the ends.

She leans more into your touch and speaks quietly, “thank you, I- sometimes I think it’s kind of boring.” She shrugs.

“It’s really beautiful! I wish I could grow my hair that long,” you hum, inspecting the completely undamaged strands of hair.

Olive smiles up at you, “I just wish I could do more hairstyles with it.”

“I could braid it for you? If you would like that of course?”

“I would really like that,” Olive nods.

She lets you lead her upstairs where you sit her in front of your vanity with all your hair and makeup products. You watch fondly as she “oohs” and “ahhs” at the products on display.

“Tell me if I hurt you at all okay?” You question as you brush out her mostly untangled hair.

Olive nods in understanding, “can you do two french braids?”

“Of course!”

You sit in silence for a few moments as you brush and part her hair. You can feel her gaze on you from the mirror.

“You okay?” You hum.

“You’re really pretty, y’know? Way more than Uncle Jake.”

Her words make you giggle, “Your Uncle Jake is very handsome, why else would I be with him?” you tease.

She snorts, “I figured it wasn’t because he was clever.”

You try not to laugh too loud at her quip and bite your lip, “he has his moments.”

Olive rolls her eyes and mumbles “sure” and once calmed from your laughter you’re able to start on the first of the braids and talk to her more.

“How’s school?” You question absentmindedly.

“It’s okay,” she answers. Olive opens her mouth again as if to say something else, before closing it again.

“You can tell me,” you affirm.

“Promise you won’t tell Uncle Jake?” She asks.

“Pinky.”

She quickly intertwines her little finger with yours before beginning.

“There’s this boy,” she blushes as she sees a grin spread across your face, “he sits next to me when we do science, and he’s really cute.”

“What’s his name?” You ask, trying to keep your face neutral.

“Trey. But I don’t even think he knows my name.” She sighs.

“I’m sure he does, Olive, especially if he sits next to you.” You reassure her.

“I mean he only really talks to me to ask for help, but one time he told me he really liked my shoes.” She gushes.

“That’s a good sign Olive,” you confirm, “if a boy likes you he’ll make sure to compliment you, don’t settle for a boy who doesn’t make you feel special, promise me?”

Olive nods diligently, “promise.”

You make a little “aha” noise as you finish with the first braid and begin to move onto the second.

“Did Uncle Jake do that?” She ponders.

“Hmm?”

“Make you feel special?”

You nod your head as your fingers move nimbly through her hair, “he asked me out five times before I said yes.” you giggle in remembrance.

“Five?” Olive chuckles.

You’re not quite sure how to explain to Jake’s niece that you thought he was something of the manwhore before he finally professed his feelings for you.

“I wanted to know that he was committed,” you decide on.

“Uncle Jake really loves you. I heard him on the phone to my mom yesterday and-”

“Stop spilling all my secrets would ya?” Jake quickly interrupts, butting the door open with his foot.

Ellie is propped on his right side holding a plate of what you can assume are your cookies. She and Jake had long gone through the sheets of her My Little Pony colouring book and had decided to come find the two of you and share the cookies that were quickly depleting.

Olive giggles, “sorry Uncle Jake.”

“It’s okay kid,” he grins and plops Ellie down on your bed before coming to stand behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and pecks you on the lips quickly.

Olive and Ellie both pull faces and Jake laughs, “I thought that’s what you wanted to do to Trey, Ollie?”

Olive gasps, “how do you know? And no I do not!”

Jake taps the side of his nose teasingly. You roll your eyes and quickly finish off her braid, flipping them over her shoulders.

“Done.” You pat her head and hope her anger will diffuse.

“Thank you,” she smiles brightly at you, but returns to shooting daggers at Jake just shortly after.

“Cookies?” He offers up as a peace offering.

Olive still keeps up her impressive pout.

“I made them babe don’t worry,” you provide.

“Well in that case,” Olive reaches for a cookie and takes a hefty bite, her eyes widen considerably, “these are so good!”

“Thank you!” You smile, brushing at the crumbs that had accumulated on her cheeks.

“These are the best cookies ever!” Ellie proclaims from where she is now chowing down on another cookie.

“Hey! I thought we said no more?” Jake frowns in faux anger, plopping down on the bed next to Ellie.

“You said that, not me!” Ellie giggles.

“You got me there, bellie.” Jake sighs in defeat.

Ellie throws herself into Jake’s arms and gives her best puppy dog eyes.

“Can we watch a movie?” She pleads.

“You wanna watch a movie, kid?” Jake pokes Olive.

Olive looks to you and you smile, “Yeah,” she nods.

An hour later, you’re all squished onto the couch watching Frozen. Ellie is long past waking up and is spread out across the “L” part of the couch snoring quietly.

You’re tucked into Jake’s side and he’s fiddling with your hand, he hasn’t been watching the screen at all. Instead, watching your features and the way Olive will point out her favourite parts and songs to you. He particularly enjoys her version of “fixer upper” which he presumed might be dedicated to him. He enjoys even more so when by the time the film ends the way that Olive is dozing off on your shoulder and the way you’re stroking softly at her arm.

“They love you,” he coos into your ear.

“I’m glad,” you hum, “I really love them.”

“Olive is never like that with anyone, she’s usually so shy.” Jake explains, placing a kiss at your temple and then tucking your head under his chin.

“I was like that too when I was her age.” You murmur as to not wake the girls, “I hope she knows how special she is.”

“You’re gonna be such a good mom someday,” he whispers down at you.

“I hope so.”

Jake had been waiting for what felt like hours. It was five minutes really. But when you had told him to go wait in the car he had expected you to be out much sooner than you were. And when you finally sat down next to him, he wasn’t all too pleased.

“Let’s go.” You hum, pulling down the mirror to apply a final layer of lip gloss.

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

“Yeah, why?” You turn, a crease forming in your brow.

Jake winces, unsure of whether to continue, “your skirt, it’s really short.”

“I guess so.” You deadpan.

A beat passes.

“Are you going to cover up?”

Jake watches as your face drops.

“Why would I do that?” You reply snappily.

Jake sighs and begins to pull his car out of the driveway.

“Because I don’t want random guys hitting on you all night.”

“How is that my problem?” You retort, anger bubbling up.

“I just don’t want them getting wrong ideas about you, that’s all.” Jake tries to reason.

“And what would those ideas be, Jake?”

Jake can sense your rising anger. He doesn’t want to be in an argument with you by the time you reach the Hard Deck. That leaves him approximately four minutes to diffuse the situation he has caused.

“Just forget I said anything, it’s fine.” Jake dismisses.

“No, I want to know what you mean.” You assert, arms coming up to cross over your chest.

“Can we just drop it?” Jake sighs after a moment, “I don’t want to fight in front of everyone.”

“We wouldn’t have to fight if you weren’t being a dick!”

Jake rolls his eyes and doesn’t dignify you with a response, angering you even further. When he finally pulls into a spot outside of the Hard Deck you turn to him and flick at his shirt that can’t have more than two buttons done up.

“You gonna do that up sweetheart? Touch revealing don’t ya think?” You spit snarkily.

With that you slam the door to the car and make your way inside without looking back. Jake watches as you beeline for Natasha and rolls his eyes when she shoots him a dirty look. It was only more ammunition for her general distaste of him.

It goes like that for the rest of the night. You avoid Jake like the plague, sticking to Nat’s side mostly near the bar top. Although, you always stay within Jake’s line of sight which is heartening for him.

Bradley seems to find the ordeal hilarious.

“What did you do to piss her off this time?” He taunts.

Jake grunts. “I told her that her skirt was too short and that she needed to change.”

Bradley’s eyes widen, “bagman even I know you’re not supposed to say shit like that.”

“Yeah, well I know that now!” Jake spits.

“Hey don’t shoot the messenger,” Bradley rolls his eyes, “just go say sorry.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“She called me a dick.” Jake huffs.

“She’s not wrong,” Bradley offers.

Jake stays silent.

“You’re so petty.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

Bradley and Jake stare at one another for a moment.

“Yeah, okay maybe,” Jake relents.

He sighs and averts his gaze back where you’re sat with Nat. You’re laughing so hard at something she’s said that you’re doubled over. You really did look beautiful, and Jake hadn’t even told you because he was too worried he was gonna get jealous and be a dick. Yet he still managed to do the last part.

“I hate when you’re right,” Jake admits, handing his beer over to Bradley.

Jake begins to make his way over to you, he’s going to apologise. However, he did not account for what was going to be quite the persistent obstacle.

“Hey,” a voice blurts from in front of him.

Jake catches sight of the owner of the voice, she’s tall and just a touch too blonde to be believable. She’s pretty, sure. But not you.

“Hey,” Jake replies absentmindedly, trying to make his way around her.

She steps in front of him again, blocking you from his view and tries to start up a new conversation.

“I’m Kendra, and you are?” She smiles in what Jake supposes was seduction.

Right now all he’s really trying to figure out is if your still at the bar or not.

“Jake.” He replies, hoping it will satiate her enough to move.

“Well Jake, it is great to meet you,” Kendra hums, sticking out her hand for Jake to shake.

Jake shakes it swiftly and goes to retract his hand, Kendra keeps it in her own grasp and plays with his fingers, keeping an awkward amount of eye contact with him.

“Look Kendra, I’m sure you’re a great girl but my-”

“I love your shirt!” She interrupts, “would probably love what’s underneath more.”

Jake cringes at her line and at the way her hand is now currently moving towards the excessive amount of chest exposed by his lowly buttons. Before she can reach skin, her hand is smacked away by red polished nails that Jake would recognise anywhere.

“Hey baby,” you whisper, before throwing your arms around Jake’s neck and smashing your lips into his.

Jake is all too quick to reciprocate, letting his hands fall to your ass only just covered by the tiny skirt that Jake has suddenly taken a distinct liking to. You pull back only to catch your breath, but instead catch sight of the seething blonde still stood uncomfortably close.

“We were talking!” She insists.

“He’s busy,” you cock your head to the side in faux apology, “sorry.”

She huffs and mumbles “crazy bitch” as she storms off, you pout to try and hold in your giggles. When you turn back to Jake, it proves useless trying to hold them in when you catch sight of his mouth smothered in your pink lipgloss.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Jake breathes out.

“I’m still mad at you,” you tease.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m a jealous dick, you just look so fucking good I didn’t want anyone else to see you.” Jake explains, hands caressing at the skin at the tops of your thighs.

You snort, “I think I’m the jealous one,”

“Good, I like a change of pace sometimes,” Jake pinches softly at your skin and lets a smile grace his feature at the way you squeak.

“Should we get out of here?” You whisper, hand trailing down Jake’s chest to where his hand is resting on you.

You guide his hand underneath your skirt slowly until Jake realises the lack of barrier between his hand and your cunt.

“Fuck, baby.” Jake hums practically into your mouth from how closely you two are stood.

You step away from him swiftly and bring his hand back into yours, pulling him towards the parking lot. Jake could cry from happiness.

“If this is stupid you can just tell me, okay?” You ask from where you’re stood in front of a blindfolded Jake.

It’s his birthday today and you told him you had a surprise. He figured it would be a party, which he was thankful for but he couldn’t understand the point of the blindfold.

“Okay you can take it off now.” You instruct.

Jake all but rips the blindfold off and looks down at you to take in your attire.

“Jesus, baby.”

“Do you like it?” You question, giving him a little spin.

Jake’s mouth is agape as he watches the way you twirl, clad in the tiniest daisy dukes he thinks he’s ever seen and what can only be his flannel. The cream of your cowboy boots are subtle and suit you well.

“Like it?” Jake steps forward and shoves his hands into the small back pockets of your shorts, “I fuckin’ love it.”

Behind you, Jake can see his Stetson placed on the table, and behind that he can see into the garden where all of his friends are already drinking and chatting.

“You set this up, baby?” He nods to the glass doors.

“I had some help,” you shrug, finally moving out of his grip to grab his hat.

Jake extends his hand out for you to pass it to him, but is pleasantly surprised when you place it on your own head. He opens his mouth to speak, but your catch him before he can with a wink,

“I know the rule, cowboy.” You tease, placing your hand on his chest. “Consider it a birthday gift.”

Jake holds back a groan as you drag him outside to where he’s greeted by a chorus of “happy birthday”s and various other jokes about him getting old. It sort of shocks Jake at the amount of people there to celebrate, and he has to hold in a chuckle as he sees a number of your friends already beelining for the group of pilots nursing beers on the decking.

Bradley is quick to find Jake as the party gets into full swing, people chatting and music playing throughout the yard.

“You’re one lucky son of a bitch,” Bradley chuckles slapping Jake on the shoulder.

Jake has been staring at you for the last 10 minutes as you twirl around with Phoenix to the varied 2000s songs that have been on loop for most of the evening.

“Don’t I know it,” Jake boasts, clinking his beer bottle against Bradley’s.

You can feel a gaze on your back as you grind onto Phoenix whilst Nelly Furtado plays, not to your shock it’s Jake, head cocked to the side with a lazy smirk on his face whilst practically ignoring everything Bradley is saying to him. You can only giggle as Phoenix makes a teasing remark about him being whipped. She wasn’t wrong.

You make you way towards the boys slowly, smiling as you catch the end of their conversation.

“Whatcha talking about?” You goad, as Jake pulls you back against his chest already.

“You.” Bradley answers truthfully.

“All bad I suppose?” You bait.

“Oh the worst,” Jake fills in, pinching at the meat of your thigh playfully.

Deciding not to prod further, you turn in Jake’s grip to face him and plant a sloppy kiss on his face. It makes Jake laugh and Bradley mock gag, rolling his eyes and making his way towards Phoenix. Jake captures your lips with his a few more times, hands wandering dangerously low towards your ass before you pull away with a wink, and also slight fear of traumatising your guests.

“Patience is a virtue,” you remind Jake, he simply groans in response.

The rest of the night goes as such, Jake gets cornered into conversations, his eyes wander to you, you tease him some way or the other, Jake is left half hard whilst talking to an admiral. It’s uncomfortably delicious and Jake cannot wait for his last birthday gift.

At 1:30 AM, the only stragglers left are the dagger squad, drunkenly swaying around Jake’s backyard and singing horrific variations of “Slow Ride” to annoy him. It doesn’t even work, because Jake knows he has something so sweet waiting for him. However, his patience is wearing thin and considering these are the people closest to him, he has no qualms with speaking his mind.

“Alright, y’all time to get going,” he announces, herding everyone out.

Bob had been kind enough to offer to drive everyone home, and Jake was keen to take him up on it, helping Bob strap in their drunk friends with alarming efficiency.

“Hey! What’s the rush birthday boy?” Javy slurs as Jake buckles his seatbelt.

“He wants birthday sex!” Nat whisper shouts into Javy’s ear, with emphasis on the shout.

The truck erupts in whoops and crude hollers towards Jake and only Bob can offer him an apologetic smile.

“Good luck,” Jake pats Bob on the back.

“You too.” Bob replies with a laugh, eyes glancing quickly to where you’re stood on the porch, hip popped out against one of the wooden beams.

Jake all but sprints back to you, hauling you up into his arms, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. You move to place his stetson on his own head, but Jake stops you.

“Nuh-uh sweetheart, you ride the cowboy, you gotta wear the hat.” He smirks, kicking the front door shut behind him.

“Seems fair.” You hum after a moment.

And when Jake walks into the changing rooms on Monday morning, taking off his shirt to reveal hideous claw marks down his back. No one bats an eye.

Jake had experienced what one could only describe as a clusterfuck of a day.

To start off the day, his alarm hadn’t gone off, meaning he had to sprint to his car and run a red light on the way to work. What was worse than the impending ticket that he was going to receive was the fact that he hadn’t even been able to kiss you goodbye like he does every morning.

It set him up badly. Jake Seresin was never one for superstitions but you were clearly his lucky charm. Proved so even further by the way his concentration was lacking in the flight simulations he was running. Then when they were up in the air, Jake was missing every opportunity to shoot down Maverick, messing up every manoeuvre and just generally souring his already damp mood.

To top it all off, the pièce de résistance, when Jake finally made it back to the changing rooms, itching to change out of his sweaty flight suit. His bag was sat open, clothes sopping wet whilst two of the newbies stood guiltily next to a broken shower head.

He almost blew his lid. Almost. But then he pictured getting back to you, falling into your arms after this tragic day and finally being able to relax. So for once, Jake decided to keep his mouth shut. He picked up his sopping bag and silently stalked out of the room.

When Jake reached his truck and listened to the way his bag squelched as he set it down, he held in another groan of frustration. The sun was still beating down and his sweaty flight suit was clinging to him in all the wrong places. Deep breath in, clench the steering wheel too hard, deep breath out. It was a 15 minute drive. He could do that for God’s sake.

Jake’s 15 minute drive quickly became a 45 minute one when he found out the road he was supposed to be taking was closed due to a burst pipe. The sky was a dusky purple as he finally pulled up outside your house. Jake can see that the light is on in the kitchen as well as your figure moving around languidly.

Jake slams the car door probably too loudly and rushes to the door. When he opens it, Jake is greeted with the loud sounds of your 90s playlist blasting throughout the house, he can hear you voice - although somewhat out of tune - belting along as well.

It makes him smile, for the first time on that horrid day. Jake’s bag of damp clothes are forgotten by the door as he quickly shucks himself of his boots and makes his way towards the kitchen. He opens the door to the sight of you wiggling your hips to Santana whilst holding a spatula and pushing around some type of stir fry.

You continue your movements, but turn at the sound of someone entering, a large smile gracing your face once you realise who it is.

“Hey, handsome,” you preen, dancing your way towards him.

Jake can’t help but chuckle at you movements, but he quickly falls limp once your wrap your arms around his neck. His large arms wrap around your waist tightly, engulfing you in him. You take note of Jake’s subdued demeanour, and raise one of your hands to scratch at the hair at his neck just like you know he loves.

“You okay, babe?” you hum, swaying him slightly.

“Shit day,” he groans out, leaning further into your touch.

“You wanna talk about it?” You continue your ministrations.

“Later.” He huffs, “Just wanna be with you.”

Jake’s sweet words make you melt into him further, burying your face into his chest. The arms of his flight suit were tied around his waist, only his tight black undershirt covering the expanse of his chest. He smelt like a combination of jet fuel, sweat and his cologne that he’d hurriedly sprayed in the morning. It should probably be off putting but it was so undeniably Jake that it was addictive. You inhale again as you place a chaste kiss against his pec.

“Are you sniffing me?” Jake chuckles.

“You smell so good,” you can only groan out, smushing your face into him again.

Jake leans back and takes your face in his hands,

“I’ve not even showered, I stink,” he chuckles incredulously.

“You still smell so good,” you whine, lips forming a pout.

“That means we’re meant to be or something, my pheromones get you going huh?” Jake teases.

“Never say pheromones again,” you roll your eyes and wiggle out of his grip to lower the heat under the pan you were searing the food in.

Jake follows you diligently, arms wrapping around your waist so he can cling to you as you move about the kitchen. Once bored of your movements, Jake swiftly lifts you up to sit at the counter top.

“Jake!” You swat at his chest, “we need to plate up the food,” you remind him.

“It can wait,” he decides, leaning in to connect his lips to yours.

It’s what he’d been waiting for all day. The pillow of your lips on his, the way you melt into his touch. One strong hand caressing the side of your face and the other gripping at your hip. You rest one hand on his chest, the other at the back of his neck, guiding his face to yours over and over again. Jake feels like a teenager again, making out with his girlfriend on the kitchen counter top. Except his 16 year old self would probably lose his mind trying to figure out how he ended up with someone like you.

Once you’d let Jake’s tongue explore your mouth in a kiss that had lasted far too long, you finally pull back to catch your breath.

“You want food?” you question with a smile.

“Please,” Jake hums as you hop off the counter. He smacks at your ass you walk away from him, “I’m starving.”

You roll your eyes fondly, and get to plating up the food. Jake isn’t too keen on letting you out of his grip, so you sit in his lap as you eat, feeding him and yourself at the same time. It’s nice, his strong grip is comforting and Jake appreciates how eager you are to listen to his rant about his shitty day.

“I was missing you all day, baby,” Jake murmurs, kissing at the side of your neck.

“I always miss you, Jake,” you smile earnestly, “now go shower and I’ll wash the plates.”

Jake allows you out of his grip so you can stand and move back around the kitchen, he shadows you once again, moving in tandem with his hands never leaving you.

“I thought you were going to shower?” You question, placing the last dish in the dishwasher.

“I don’t wanna leave you,” he whines.

You sigh, holding in your smirk as you turn to face him. “You wanna shower together?”

Jake has never looked so giddy as he practically races up the stairs, shirt flying off as he climbs the steps.

“You’re insatiable!” You yell after him.

“Only for you!” He yells in return.

“I’ve thought a lot about what I could say right now,” Jake clears his throat.

He’s not nervous. In fact he doesn’t think anything has ever been so clear in his mind.

��I think usually when people do these things they tell memories or defining moments about their relationship, but the truth is. Every goddamn moment since I met you, I knew this was the only possible outcome.”

Jake looks down to where your sat with your shared friends and family, you look like a dream really. He’d been antsy about not seeing your dress, but now he was glad he’d waited.

“Y’know she turned me down five times before finally agreeing to go out with me?” Jake chuckles into the mic he’s holding.

Laughter rings out through the guests but Jake’s gaze never wavers from you. You’re rolling your eyes at him with a smile on your face, letting out a giggle as Jake’s mom squeezes your hand.

“I don’t blame her, I was kind of a mess. I’d just been stationed back here on North Island, and Javy was my only friend because I was a dick.”

The dagger squad, raise their glasses in a cheers to Jake’s statement, cracking the room up again.

“I never thought Rooster would be sat at my table at my wedding, I’ll admit that.” Jake laughs out.

Bradley in return whoops and raises a hand in salute to Jake.

“He’s single by the way ladies,” Jake winks to your elderly grandmother.

“Anyways, as I was saying, total dick, with a lacking moral compass and even more so in my emotions. I was kind of betting on getting the mission done and going back to wherever the hell I was stationed and moving on. Then I ended up pissing off the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen by pouring a drink down her shirt, and she chewed me out worse than any admiral I’d ever crossed.”

“It was expensive!” You quickly yell out in defence.

“As you can see, I’m still making up for it,” Jake teases, “but from that moment onwards I realised I needed to get my act together. My pea brain was shocked that a woman would cuss me out like that, and I immediately fell in love with her. Which probably makes me sound crazy but seriously, being around you for five minutes makes you want to be a better person, and being around you for this long has made me a better man.”

Jake’s smile can only widen when your glossy eyes meet his, “Rooster once told me I was a lucky son of a bitch to have you, and as annoyingly as always. He was right. I don’t know how or why you agreed to be my girlfriend, and it’s a godsent miracle that I get to call you my wife. You’re the best person in every room - sorry everyone - and the most beautiful person always. I love you, which you already know, but I just wanted to say it again,” Jake exhales.

Jake raises his glass in a final toast, “to my beautiful wife, the new Mrs Seresin.”

Glasses clink around the room and Jake almost misses you beelining for him throughout all the commotion. Your arms wrap swiftly around his neck, pulling his lips against yours. You kiss him softly, before pulling back to whisper to him,

“You know I love you so fucking much right?”

“Of course I do, baby,” Jake hums.

“You’re the best man I know,” you smile, leaning in to his lips again.

Jake dips you as you kiss, feeding off of the theatrics as people holler. People are standing and moving towards the dance floor as he brings you back up, forehead pressed against your own.

“Do you know how hot it is that you’re my wife?” He smirks.

“Mrs Seresin does have a nice ring to it,” you decide.

“The best, actually,” Jake replies, as he’s dragged towards the dance floor by Javy.

a/n: jake is so husband coded it’s not even funny,,, like THAT IS MY MAN!!!!

@roosterforme ages ago we were talking and you asked me to tag you when i posted my jake fic, sorry it’s been eons hehe i hope you enjoy!!

pls comment, reblog, or send me an ask and tell me what you think!!

thank you for reading :))

- honey <333

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hangmanssunnies · 6 months

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Summary: After a failed Tinder date, you go to hang out with your friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin. When you get to his house, you unexpectedly find him with a baby, and it is a sight that rewires something in your head. Jake needs a baby of his own. Right now — like yesterday, actually. And that is a task you would be more than willing to help with; now, you just need to find the courage to bring it up.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Word count: 9k

AO3 Link

Warnings: 18+ Only, Friends to lovers, baby fever, smut, P in V, Oral, Hangman with a baby (deserves its own warning)

Author's note: The attorneys at work keep bringing their babies in and letting me hold them, and @top-hhun has done absolutely nothing to discourage the subsequent baby fever I've been dealing with. Anyways, that's where this fic came from. I hope you enjoy this. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

You had become friends with Jake unexpectedly some years ago, hitting it off at your mutual friend's wedding. Part of you had, of course, hoped the attractive blonde aviator would be interested in you, maybe in a romantic sense, but it never came to fruition. He shipped out the week after the wedding, but the easy rapport you carried with him started with sharing jokes about how trashed other people got at the reception, and eventually developing into a true and close friendship.

It was for the best because the more you got to know Jake, it became clear to you that he didn't want the same things that you did. He was focused on his career and didn't have time for a partner. When he did talk about settling down, it was never in an authentic way, more joking that he was waiting to swoop in if Coyote's marriage fell apart or that his Mama would set him up with a nice southern belle who wanted to give her twelve grandkids. Jake would claim he was too busy for a relationship, away from home too much to be steady. However, none of that seemed to stop him from finding time for you, which is probably why you hadn't been able to completely repress your feelings for him despite some valiant efforts.

Just today, after a failed lunch date with someone from Tinder, you texted Jake disheartened. He hadn't hesitated first to ask if you were okay and then invited you over for dinner to tell him all about it. He had even promised to cook you whatever you wanted. A special treat guaranteed to make you feel better, considering Jake's superb culinary skills.

You walk into Jake's house without knocking or ringing the bell, knowing he left the door unlocked in anticipation of your arrival. After securing the front door's lock into place, you toe off your shoes, making sure to set them neatly in line with the others there. Jake's home is clean and tidy, just like it always is; the organization of the entry is no exception. You know from the smells and sounds wafting towards you that he must still be cooking, which is odd because he's almost always done by the time you show up.

Venturing further into the house you see him, standing in the kitchen, with a baby strapped to his chest. It's an unexpected sight, and you're frozen by it. Jake's in a casual white teeshirt, jeans, and a dark navy blue sling with a camo pattern wrapped tightly around him, securing a tiny infant in place against his broad chest. His hair is fluffy like it often is on his days off, and the golden strands fall across his forehead. Seeing it like this always creates an instinctual desire to run your fingers through it. However, you can hardly even process that thought because you're so distracted by the bundle on his chest. Music is playing on his record player, and he is humming along.

Jake suddenly stops the humming, and the prep he is doing, looking down at the baby. After a pause, a smile pulls at the edges of his lips, his eyes crinkle before he drops a kiss on the infant's head. And it's like everything is right. Jake with a baby seems so natural. The fact that he exists any other way than with a baby in his arms every day feels wrong. Your heart starts beating harder in your chest, and a thought pops into your head, instantly taking deep root: Jake needs a baby of his own. Right now — like yesterday, actually.

You don't know what sound you must have made, but Jake looks up and finally notices you standing in the hallway. He doesn't appear at all startled as a wide grin spreads across his face as he greets you, "Howdy there, Doll!"

"You have a baby," you say stupidly in an entirely delayed response.

"Yeah, this little guy is Jackson. Coyote and the Mrs wanted a date day, so I offered to watch the baby for them. They were supposed to be here two hours ago to pick him up, but I'm sure they just got caught up." Jake laughs and presses another kiss to Jackson's head. Before continuing on, "I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind," you manage to breathe out, unable to tear your eyes off Jake or even pretend you're not staring. He quirks an eyebrow at you but otherwise doesn't comment. After he gestures for you to join him, he returns to the cutting board in front of him. You are transfixed; when you sit down at the bar in the kitchen, it occurs to you that you should probably say something and not just stare like an idiot. "Do you want me to take him?"

"I think he is just fine here," Jake says, examining the sleeping baby strapped to his chest again. Jackson has hardly moved since you showed up, clearly passed out, not disturbed by the music or any of the kitchen sounds.

"At least let me help finish cooking then?" You request.

"No, Ma'am. Bubba and I have this dinner taken care of. I did pick up that wine you like from the store. Maybe you can open it up for us?"

Entering the kitchen, you pull out two wine glasses from a cabinet. Opening the fridge you see your preferred wine stocked, as well as a few of your other favorite drinks stored there. Warmth blooms in your chest that Jake picked up things for you when he was at the store last. It was touching that he would take care to buy something he would never touch but getting it anyway just to have beverages you prefer on hand. After pouring the wine, you set one glass next to Jake's cutting board, making sure it's in easy reach for him.

"Thank you," he says appreciatively. You sigh and lean against him, pressing your face into the bicep of his arm, careful not to disturb Jackson or the sling as you do. Closing your eyes, you breathe him in, looking for the subtle cedar scent of his cologne to soothe you. However, only a hint of it tickles your nose, the cedar not as strong as it usually is. Today, Jake smells more like clean laundry and his natural musk than anything else. You are surprised to find it still does the trick in helping settle your nerves, though. Jake hums but doesn't protest your closeness, instead asking, "Long day?"

You don't answer with words, just humming noncommittally against his arm. You leave your face pressed there for a moment longer. "Not enough wine to talk about it yet," you eventually say into his arm before pulling away. Settling on the other side of the counter again, you take a long drink of the wine you poured. Deciding to admire Jake again, you ask, "How was your day?"

"It was pretty good. Javy dropped Jackson off this morning. We had tummy time, went on a walk, and to the grocery store to get things for dinner. Then we got a little cranky, so we rocked in the lazy boy for a while." You took a moment to picture Jake doing these activities and can't decide which is most swoon worthy. Jake is always swoon worthy, of course, but knowing that he was caring for a baby while doing it feels like an extra kick to the stomach or maybe ovaries.

"And?" You ask him, taking another drink of your wine and pillowing your face on your palm.

"And what?" Jake asks.

"What else did you and Jackson do today? I want to hear every detail."

Jake gives into your request easily. Starting his description of the day over, he tells you how even though he has babysat before, the Machados were still anxious to leave Jackson alone here when they dropped him off that morning. Jake told you about tummy time, which toys they liked and which were uninteresting. How long their walk was, and what they saw. He told you about the old woman who fawned over them in the store and how they helped her with getting her groceries to the car. It was endearing that Jake used the first person plural 'we' as if he and Jackson were a team with equal agency in their day's activities. It was especially cute when Jake told you about the tantrum they had thrown earlier in the afternoon as if he had been crying right along with his godson.

Just as dinner was finished and you were setting the table, Jackson woke up and started to get fussy. Jake cooed to the baby affectionately, leaving to the guest room, where Javy had stuffed almost a car full of supplies for Jake to watch Jackson. Some of the just-in-case supplies included toys and clothes Jackson wouldn't even be able to use until he was at least a year old.

When Jake comes back, both he and Jackson are wearing different clothes. Jake is in a soft green shirt and sweats, while Jackson is now wearing a giraffe onesie. He has the baby propped on his hip and doesn't offer you any explanation aside from that they had an accident. Then he sees that you have plated and set everything for dinner at the dining room table, and he offers a soft thank you.

You watch as he balances Jackson on his hip and starts following the written out directions for making a bottle that's taped to his fridge. Jake isn't someone who struggles, and you know that this is something that he is fully capable of doing, but you also can't help but think that it would be easier for him if he had two free hands. So, you gently pull Jackson from his arms and into your own instead.

The baby blinks up at you, his eyes still soft and sleepy. He babbles a bit of nonsense but otherwise makes no protest at you. Jackson has the same brown eyes and skin tone as his father. Even with his chubby cheeks, you can tell that the little boy is going to be Coyote's mini-me. The similarities in their appearance are so close it's like the universe had just hit copy and paste.

He is so cute you can't stop the grin that stretches across your lips when Jackson snuggles into you. One of his hands starts grabbing at your shirt's fabric while he absently gnaws at his other one. The little boy completely steals your attention as you walk around the living room and dining room with him. Asking him how he feels about his day with his Uncle Jake, pausing for his babbling like they were real answers. Jake comes up behind you several minutes later, setting a steady hand on the small of your back.

"Here, let me take him," Jake mutters practically in your ear while reaching for Jackson.

"No," you protest, turning away from Jake's reach. "You've had him all day. I've only gotten to hold him for a few minutes."

"Now, darling," Jake drawls.

"Don't darling me."

"Doll," He says

"Don't Doll me either." You snap, though the aggression of it is completely manufactured.

"Fine, fine," Jake says, holding his hands up. "You can have him for a few more minutes, but then it's my turn again."

"How is that fair?"

"It's fair because he is my godson."

You pout at Jake, and he pouts back." I can't believe you're going to be a baby hog like this. Don't you know sharing is caring?"

"Jackson isn't a rental car, sweetheart. Can't just hand him out to anybody."

"So what? You don't trust me with him?"

"No," Jake says, suddenly dropping all of his dry, teasing tone. "Of course, I trust you with him. Of course, I trust you."

Jake steps closer when he says this, crowding a bit into your personal space. His sea glass green eyes hold you in place, and you don't think you imagine that they flick downwards, that he has his sights set on your lips, that Jake could be considering kissing you. However, a breath later, he is swooping Jackson out of your arms and into his own, quickly back peddling.

"You can have the baby back after I feed him, okay? I don't want to risk him throwing up on that pretty blouse you've got on."

"Kidnaper! Baby Snatcher!" You half gasp, half yell, and start to chase after Jake as he runs away, holding Jackson close and carefully but still managing to evade you.

You're both laughing, and Jackson has started joyfully screeching as well when the doorbell rings, startling all three of you. Jake hands Jackson to you wordlessly before going to check who's at the door. It only takes a minute for him to come back with Coyote in tow. Who immediately rushes to sweep his baby from your arms and press kisses all over his cherub face.

After Javy examined his son to ensure nothing was out of sorts, he handed Jackson back to you to hold while he and Jake packed up all of his stuff and moved the car seat. This was only after he made a sly comment about how good you looked with a baby in your arms, though.

When you are alone with Jackson again, you take a moment to admire yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall. It wasn't such a hard thing for you to imagine holding a baby, and it looking normal, like something right, especially when you start to picture one with Jake's features or one that would take more after you, possibly even some sweet mix. The feeling of casual want that started from seeing Jake when you first arrived suddenly twists into an unexpected ache and intense need.

You expect it to let up, but it doesn't. Rather, the feeling smolders in you, burning hotter and hotter until it feels slightly consuming. Seeing Jake hug and kiss Jackson goodbye, promising they would spend another day together soon, nearly does you in. Heating your feelings from a low simmer to a roaring boil.

When you and Jake finally sit down to actually have dinner, it gets a little hotter with every sip of wine you take. Every time that Jake smiles and his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way he asks about your failed date with the perfect mix of sympathy and care, even the way he reheated dinner, all adds to the fire. As Jake is starting to put away the leftovers from dinner, refusing to let you help, you can't keep it in anymore, and you boil over.

"Jackson was so precious," you say, casually swirling the bit of drink you have left around in the glass.

"Little mans is so fun. I love him. It's always a treat to babysit,"

"You were really great with him today."

"Aw, thanks Doll. Now, what do you want to do with the rest of the night? Play a game, watch a movie? We can do anything you want."

"Anything I want?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jake says easily as he pops the lids of his pyrex container into place.

"I want a baby." You say in a quick breath. You nearly slap your hand over your mouth in horror that had just jumped out of your mouth. You really haven't had enough wine to be this bold, but then again, maybe you were a little intoxicated on having seen Jake be so domestic.

"What?" he asks with a laugh, probably thinking he misheard you. You grip the edge of the cool countertop trying to steady your nerves and prevent your hands from shaking.

"Jake, I want a baby," you tell him more slowly, making sure each word comes out clearly.

"No, you don't," he laughs, shaking his head. He starts tossing dirty dishes into the sudsy water of the sink and stacking up the food containers to put in the fridge. Jake turns away from you before saying, "I thought you've said you didn't want kids."

"It's complicated," you explain softly. "Are people not allowed to change their minds about things anymore?"

"Oh, so are you debating or like —"

"I don't really know how to say this more clearly. I want to have a baby with you, Jake."

He freezes. You see his shoulders tense, and he stares into the fridge for a long moment, slowly finishing storing the leftovers. When he closes the fridge, he still doesn't look at you immediately.

"You want me to be the father of a child you have? You want to have my baby?" Jake asks you incredulously. You gulp, now feeling entirely too vulnerable to speak, so you just nod in agreement instead. Jake's eyes are piercing, and his body language is tense as he stands in front of the sink again. He heaves a heavy sigh, his lips flattening into a tight line. Then he scrubs his hands over his face before narrowing his eyes at you, "This is not a very funny joke."

"It's not a joke, Jake. I want a baby, and I know you would be a good father." When Jake's demeanor still doesn't change, you continue on hurriedly. "I think we could do the whole platonic coparent thing easily enough. We get along so well, and we're already such good friends."

There is a long pause where he does not say anything, turning on the sink, waiting for the water to heat, and sudsing up a scrub daddy sponge. Only once this task is started does he answer you in a very stoic, perfectly level tone, "No, I don't think I can do that. I can't just sleep with you."

"Oh, well. I see. Forget that I asked, please." You mutter, embarrassed but trying to not let the sting of rejection affect your tone. You knew that this could backfire, but you didn't think it would feel this bad. Feel like the pit of your stomach falling so low you are almost nauseous.

"I'm sorry, Dolly."

"It's okay, Jake, really. It's just the wine getting to me."

"Are you going to ask someone else?"

"What?"

"Are you going to ask someone else to give you a baby?" Jake asks in a gruff tone.

You wouldn't actually, you wouldn't want one without Jake. In fact, this urge to have a child came from seeing him. However, you didn't know how else to play off your out-of-pocket request than to commit to the bit. Nonchalantly, you say, "Maybe."

"I could help you find someone," he offers.

"Please, Jake. It's okay you said no. You don't have to try and fix my situation."

He practically ignores you, asking, "What about Rooster?"

"I'm sure that I would have fun with the process," you say. Jake, who has focused himself with dedication on the dishes, looks up at you sharply. He quickly looks away again as you continue, "I'd be worried about having a baby that's born with a full mustache, though. So, no, thank you."

"I'm sure Fritz would be happy to help you out."

"No —"

"Harvard—"

"No Hangman. Stop," You say much harder with emphasis, cutting him off and leaving no room for argument.

"I tell you no for one thing, and suddenly I'm Hangman to you?"

"No, you're Hangman when you disregard the people around you, no matter what they say. You're Hangman when you decide something's a mission objective, and you refuse to let it go. This isn't your problem to fix or one to pawn off on one of your friends."

"You made it my problem when you just asked me to give you a baby," Jake says, frustrated. Roughly scrubbing the dishes, rinsing, and setting them in the drying rack.

"Well, the moment you said no, it's not your problem anymore. I'm absolving you of responsibility. It's my problem, and I will find someone for myself to put up with me, at least for a night." You joke, trying to lighten the mood again, not wanting to ruin the whole night from this mishap. Jake doesn't react more than his face darkening significantly, a deep frown pulling at his lips as he rinses the last dish and closes the dishwasher.

"Put up with you?" He asks, his eyebrows knitting together. Jake reaches for a dish towel to dry off his hands, and you're momentarily distracted by the thick fingers and web of veins tracing up his arm. It's a better sight than meeting Jake's intense eyes, those eyes that can stare you down and leave no room for you to hide.

"I mean, I know I'm a lot, but I think even I can get someone to fuck me once or twice. If I want and am very lucky, I'll only need one night. There are also other options, of course, like sperm banks and adoption. Let's just let it go. Okay?" When you don't get an immediate response, you glance at Jake once more. He is staring at you, but it's not a look you like. He's looking at you like you are a problem to be fixed, a puzzle to solve, an item to take off his to-do list. So you force a chuckle out and smile.

"I don't think I want to. Actually, I can't let this conversation go."

"We have to," you insist.

"Why?"

"Because Jakers, it doesn't have anywhere else to go. I expressed a stupid desire without thinking. It was awkward, and that's okay. It doesn't have to stay that way, though. Now we laugh and forget it. There is no other option."

"A lot. Put up with. Stupid desires," Jake scoffs the words as he rounds the kitchen island. He spins the bar stool chair you're sitting on by the back, turning you to face him. Then he sets his hands on the marble countertop on either side of you, effectively boxing you in. Even sitting on the tall bar stool, you have to tilt your head a bit to look up at him. When your eyes meet again, the green isn't as soft or kind as you're expecting. "I don't like how you're talking about yourself right now."

"I'm just being honest. I'm taxing to deal with; people get tired of me. My past relationships have certainly taught me that I'm only desirable under the right conditions. And I am stupid. I just ruined our whole night because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. What kind of normal person asks one of their best friends to fuck a baby into them unprompted?"

"Oh wow, I'm not even sure where to start with all that." Jake breathes. You can't take seeing his furrowed brow and disappointed frown. So instead, you examine his right arm that's stretched by you, mapping out the moles and freckles there. "You've developed a warped sense of the truth, Doll."

It's your turn to scoff and roll your eyes. When you do, the arm you've been studying shifts, and Jake cups your cheek. Gently, he urges your face to turn back towards his, and a calloused thumb sweeps across your cheekbone. "Listen to me good now. The things you want and desire they ain't stupid, and neither are you. You're not too much. You're just enough."

"Thank you, Jake." You whisper. And while his words are kind, you don't really believe them.

"Don't say thank you."

"What else am I supposed to say?"

"Say you believe me and mean it," Jake urges you.

"I don't want to lie to you. That's not who we are, that's not our friendship," You say. Jake's hand drops from your cheek, and he steps back quickly as if he's been burned. After you had been so surrounded by him, you nearly reach out to urge him close again. Running a hand through his hair, you can tell he's resisting the urge to pace.

"Is that our friendship, one built on honesty?"

"I thought so."

"Then I've failed you, and I've failed us because it's not."

"Jake, what are you talking about?" You ask him, confused. He shakes his head at you and doesn't respond, instead backing away further until he is abandoning you in the kitchen. Swiftly, you stand to follow him, "Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving."

"And going where? This is your house," you remind him. You've caught up to him in the doorway of his bedroom, where he's grabbing a hat and his wallet. "I'm sorry I ruined tonight, and I'll leave. You have to be honest with me before I do, though. I have to know we're going to be okay tomorrow."

"I can't," Jake says tersely, not meeting your eyes and attempting to sidestep you in the doorway.

"I was wrongly under the impression there wasn't anything you couldn't do, Hangman. But I guess we are finding a lot of things you just can't do tonight, aren't we?" You aren't expecting the little lash out of a taunt to get you anywhere. Jake is normally always calm, cool, and collected, acting with decisive precision. However, nearly as soon as you've finished speaking, Jake's hands are on your arms, and he backs you up until you gently hit the wall of the hallway across from his door.

"You're asking for more self-restraint than I have, Doll." He warns roughly. The sudden movement doesn't make you back down like he was probably expecting. Instead, the rush makes you feel emboldened.

"I don't care. I can accept you don't want a baby with me, that you don't want to fuck me. I can accept that you want to force me to talk, but I can't accept you making me question our friendship."

"Oh god. You really don't understand. My honesty is not going to make this better," he warns.

"Yes, I do. Whatever it is, please tell me. I can think of many things you could be referring to, like that I'm not attractive to you. How I would make a terrible mother. Maybe I'm not a good friend. Or you don't actually like spending time with me. Whatever it is, you have to tell me. I've never thought you would lie to me. So, I need to know, or it's going to drive me crazy."

"There you are, all twisted up again," Jake sighs.

"And whose fault is that?" You snap back. Jake still has you pressed against the wall, so you set your hands on his broad chest with the intention of pushing him away. However, he doesn't budge; in fact, he does the opposite, coming even closer so he is flush against you. You refuse to tilt your chin to look up at him as he looms, rather only lifting your eyes in a cold stare. "I shouldn't be surprised that you're going to leave me hanging to dry, but you could at least —"

You don't get to finish the thought because a hand has snaked to hold the side of your neck, thumb tucking under your chin, turning your face upwards to Jake's waiting lips. The first brush of his lips on yours doesn't line up quite right, but that doesn't stop your breath from catching. Shifting to get a better angle, Jake applies two more feather light kisses. Your hands, which are still resting on his chest, creep up, and you loop them around his shoulders, using the leverage to lift higher on your toes and get closer to him.

This prompts him to deepen his next kiss, lips moving harder against yours. When you open your mouth wider in invitation, Jake's tongue traces along your bottom lip but doesn't dive in. You whine when Jake pulls away to take a breath.

"Forgive me, Doll, I should've asked first."

"Asked what?" You wonder, not moving your eyes away from his lips and strategizing how to get them back on yours. You think if you could just get a little higher, you would be able to kiss him without Jake needing to bend down so much.

"May I kiss you?" He asks.

"Yes, please." You answer immediately. You tug your hold on his shoulders, hoping it will urge him to get right back to it. Jake doesn't, though. His hand shifts from your neck to cup your cheek again, his other leaving the wall to settle on your waist.

"Can I touch you?"

"Yes, Jake." His hand traces up your side from your waist and back down again in what is a soothing motion. It's too soft and delicate for what you want right now, though, so you tug on his neck again, pressing your chest into his. He gives in this time, molding his lips to yours once more.

When his tongue meets yours, a low rumble emulates from Jake's chest, and the sound sends a new wave of arousal coursing through you. Reaching up, you push off Jake's hat, not caring where it falls, only that it's no longer in your way. When you thread your fingers into his hair, it's smooth and silky, providing no resistance when you tug it.

"Tell me what you want, Doll," Jake says when your lips part again.

"You. I want you," you whimper, tugging his hair again. A wide grin breaks across Jake's face, and his eyes crinkle around the edges. He tucks his face into your neck, and you can still feel him smiling.

"What else do you want?" He questions. When his lips brush a spot that makes you stretch your neck to give him easier access, he nips it lightly. You stumble, coming up with a response, just sighing his name as he finds another spot to bite. "Come on now, you said it so pretty earlier. Tell me again."

Once his request processes through your lust filled brain, you push on Jake's shoulders once more. This time, he doesn't resist, backing away from you and creating some space between your heated bodies. Sagging against the wall, you try to catch your breath while examining Jake. His hair is disheveled now, some of it falling across his forehead.

"You said no, you don't want that with me. You don't want this with me," You answer, finally dropping your gaze to examine the grain of the hardwood floor near your feet. Confusion at this sudden turn in attitude from him settles over you as your head clears. One of Jake's hands enters your field of vision, turned upwards in an offering. "Come sit, we need to set some things straight."

Taking Jake's hand, he curls his fingers with yours and gently tugs you back through the doorway of his room. With his direction, you perch on the edge of his four poster bed. Jake presses a kiss to the back of your hand and lets it go to settle on the accent chair that's in the corner.

"We'll be honest, right?" You say hesitantly, already missing the feeling of Jake's hand in yours.

"Yes. I'll be honest." Jake answers reassuringly before continuing, "From the beginning, I never wanted to be friends with you.

"You didn't?"

"Nope," he says, popping the p. "I never wanted to be friends, and then once we were friends, I was stuck. You didn't seem to want the same things as I did, and I'm not the kind of man to complain about the friend zone."

"I haven't friend you zoned you," you say, scandalized at the suggestion.

"Just earlier tonight, you asked me to have a baby with you, platonically," Jake deadpans.

"Because I can't conceptualize you wanting me any other way."

"I want you. I've always wanted you, but not platonically, baby."

Baby. Jake was a casual sweet name user, there was doll, sweetheart, honey, darling, those all were commonplace, but baby was new. Hearing it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. He called you baby, and he has wanted you. You could have had him from the start if your fears and insecurities hadn't held you back.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to need me, to love me," Jake explains with more hesitation than you've ever heard from him as if he is tip-toeing through this conversation. Worrying your fingers together, you have to take a calming breath to settle your own hesitation before answering him, "Well, that's easy because I do."

A gleeful grin stretches across his face, and it's so bright you feel a matching one appear. He rubs a hand over his face, hiding it from view for a moment, and when you see his face again, he is still smiling. He looks as if he is trying to bite it back but can't quite manage.

"Well, alright, a few more things we have to iron out then. I love spending time with you. You've never not been desirable to me." You can't help a disbelieving laugh when Jake says that, and the look he gives you is disapproving. "I mean that. I was thinking about it even the time I came over to bring you soup when you had the flu. Wanted to bundle you up and crawl into bed with you."

"Oh, come on, that can't be true. I was so gross."

"It is. I promised I would be honest, and I'm not going to be breaking any of the promises I make to you. Can you believe that?"

You study his face, tracing over his nose, and jaw. He still has the hint of a grin that hasn't slid off his features yet, and he looks so very earnest. You can't imagine that Jake would be in the business of lying to you, and the openness he is offering makes it feel like you can believe him. That you can keep trusting him just like you always have. "I can believe that."

"Great. So, baby —"

"Yes?" You say entirely too breathily before he can even finish the sentence. It was really a surprise how much hearing him say that already turned your brain to some form of liquid.

"I want to sleep with you," Jake says plainly.

"Then why are you all the way over there?"

"I didn't want you to feel any sort of pressure while we were talking, and wasn't confident I could keep my hands to myself."

Standing up from his bed, you walk steadily over to the chair Jake is sitting in. Crawling into his lap more confidently than you truly feel, his hands automatically slip around your waist, steading you against him. Holding eye contact with him, you say, "I don't want you to keep your hands to yourself."

"Fuck, you're going to kill me," he sighs, tightening his hold on you. You go to kiss him again, but when you do, he blurts out, "I don't have any STDs or STIs." His cheeks stain a little pink, and he looks as surprised by the declaration as you are.

"That's good to know. I'm clean too," you inform him.

"Good to know. I just thought it was important to put it out there. Got to do safety checks first and everything. I don't want us to have any questions or be unsure about anything, and it's important to consider all the factors involved with —" Jake's rambling comes to a halt when you dip your face into his neck, kissing at the underside of his jaw softly.

"Jake," you say, linking your arms around his neck and playing with the short hair there. "Will you give me a baby?"

"Fuck, Doll. I promise to give you anything you want. The ring, the house, the baby. It's yours."

You don't waste any time kissing him. When your lips meet, all the hesitancy and nervousness that Jake had while you were talking melts away. His mouth confidently teases yours open for his tongue to quickly follow. Your hands thread into Jake's hair again as his start to roam your back, sides, and arms. When you wiggle closer on his lap, he groans and grabbing a handful of your ass, lifting you up. Jake stands easily and walks you back to the bed.

He doesn't drop you on the bed like you're expecting. Instead, he sets you down gently, one of his hands cradling the back of your head as he does. Laying on your back with Jake standing over you reminds you just how large and broad he is.

With surprisingly little fanfare, he pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the side. Jake shirtless is not a new sight; in fact, it's a tantalizing one you've seen too often. He has every right to be proud of his body, you know how much time he dedicates at the gym. So it shouldn't be a surprise that, never one to be self conscious, Jake hardly could be found wearing a shirt if the situation didn't require it. However, you realize this is the first time that you don't just have to look but can also touch.

Wanting to get the nervousness of undressing out of the way, you sit up, quickly discarding your shirt and tossing it aside. Before you can shimmy out of your bottoms, Jake's large hands are on your wrists, stopping you.

"You're doing my job," he chastises huskily. Jake is slow and meticulous in removing your clothes, running his hands over all the skin that's exposed to him. When he pulls off your bra, leaving you only in your panties, he just sits back and stares for a moment. Such intense scrutiny from his gaze has you covering your chest, crossing your legs, and looking away.

"I wasn't planning on sleeping with anyone tonight," you mutter, knowing that you don't have the sexiest underwear on and perhaps were not as physically prepared for this intimacy as you would like.

"Good," he says lowly. "No one else is going to get to see you like this anymore." Grabbing an ankle in each big hand, he spreads you out for him. He slides off your panties so you're completely bare, and takes up his staring once more. "Ain't you fucking gorgeous?" Jake mutters and you realize he ain't talking about you necessarily; he's talking to your pussy. Whining his name gets Jake to shove off his sweatpants, leaving him in a pair of dark grey boxer briefs as he crawls over your body.

As he kisses you again, your hands greedily explore his exposed skin. His chest hair proving to be much softer than you had imagined it, and his shoulders are taut as he holds himself up. While Jake's lips move with yours, you use a leg to encourage him to ease more of his weight into you, seeking friction. Kissing down your neck he lavishes attention to your breasts, licking and sucking his way across your skin.

"You know, I was too busy to make dessert," he says when he reaches your core. One of his hands teasingly traces all around the skin. Placing a kiss on your inner thigh, he asks, "Do you mind filling in?"

"Jake, you don't need to." You say, trying not to squirm when his fingers dip between your lips.

"I want to. Do you not want me to?"

"I know it's not everyone's thing," you answer, giving him an out.

"It's my thing," Jake says. His eyes lock onto the cleft of you, and he licks his lip, biting at the bottom one. Reaching up, he grabs one of your hands and brings it up to his hair, encouraging you to thread your fingers there. His fingers that are teasing you spread you open more, and he groans, "Oh yeah you're my thing."

Jake's tongue traces over you, probing until he finds the spot that makes your hips jump. Once Jake finds your clit he doesn't waste his time. Widening his mouth, he latches on and sucks. While he starts gently, he ramps up to sucking hard and twisting his tongue as he does. When you pull at his hair, he moans encouragingly.

"More," you request tugging his hair gently. Jake listens, sliding a finger into you. Whispering praise into your thighs about how pretty you are and how good you taste. You don't know how long Jake spends between your thighs, but he doesn't seem to be in any hurry. He sucks and licks, fucking his finger into you until the sound is sloppy and wet. He slips a second finger in, stretching you, occasionally scissoring them wider open in you.

Even when you are whining and gasping, working against Jake's tongue, he doesn't let up. You don't have the mind to worry how you're trying to suffocate him with your thighs, which he keeps pushing back open with no complaints. All that you can focus on is Jake, how good he is making you feel, and how close you're getting. It's a matter of time until you're shuddering and falling apart for him.

Continuing to lavish attention even as you jerk with sensitivity, Jake seems content to keep eating you out. You try to pull him away by his hair, but he just licks into you harder. "Jake, enough," you whine, trying to wiggle away from his mouth.

"I haven't had my fill yet, Doll," he says, pulling his mouth off you but not going far, pressing wet kisses to your thighs.

"I haven't even seen your cock yet, and I don't know why it isn't in me." You say, trying to reason with him. It doesn't come out very strong, though as Jake's fingers curl in you, making your cunt flutter.

"Patience is a virtue," he teases.

"Being virtuous isn't really at the forefront of my mind at the moment."

Jake sighs dramatically and presses one more kiss to your pussy before sitting back on his haunches. You can see the hard outline of him in his briefs as he gets off the bed. You watch his every move closely, more than ready to finally see him naked.

However, Jake is clearly taking some sort of joy from making you wait, because he detours to start picking up your hastily thrown clothing. As he is laying them out on the chair, you lose your patience. Grabbing one of his decorative pillows, you throw it at him. It smacks him between his shoulder blades before dropping to the floor with a thunk.

Spinning to face you, Jake crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge, his eyebrow raised. "Did you just hit me with a pillow?"

"No, I wouldn't do that," You deny trying to look innocent. Jake tsks at you, picking up the makeshift weapon and setting that neatly on the chair as well.

"Being desperate for my cock isn't an excuse to misbehave, baby."

"Big talk for someone who still hasn't shown it to me. It's okay if you don't have a pretty dick, Jake. It won't change how I feel. I'm still going to want you to fuck me."

Goading someone into action was a wonderful tactic you had learned over the course of your friendship with Jake. Something he easily did with others, and something tonight that it proved was just as effective against him because he doesn't even respond to your words. Sliding off his underwear, his dick springs free. He's hard from eating you out, and just from the first glance you get, it's clear there isn't one thing for him to be self-conscious about.

The fleshy pink length is nestled among dark hair, and the size of him is nothing to dismiss. It's a very symmetrical cock, lining up nicely with his balls and adonis belt. Bouncing a bit as he gets back on the bed, you can't bring yourself to look away. You know he is going to fill you so deliciously. When he's finally close enough for you to touch, you hesitate though.

"Speechless?" Jake wonders, with no ounce of shame or self-consciousness present.

"Can I touch?" You ask. Jake nods, taking your hand and bringing it to your mouth. You suck a few of your fingers in, wetting them with your spit. Then he guides your hand to his dick, encouraging you to wrap it around him. Jake's hand covers yours for the first few strokes, showing you what he likes, but then it falls away, letting you explore. He grunts when you trace one of the veins that runs along the side, following it down to cup his balls. He allows your teasing for a few more strokes before he pulls you close, kissing you hard.

The hard planes of Jake's naked body pressed against yours is nearly too much. He is so close and yet not close enough. With some gentle maneuvering, Jake is in between your legs and checking that the position is comfortable for you. Jake runs his length through your lips, the head bumping into your clit. Despite all the encouragement and build up, he's still not in a hurry. When his cock is wet from you, it starts to slide effortlessly. Losing your patience, you cup Jake's face, making him look you in the eyes.

"Jake, fuck me now. Please." You say. He nods, kissing you slowly. Then finally, he grabs his cock lining himself up and pushing the tip into you. When his pelvis meets yours, he holds himself there, your breaths mingling together in light pants as he stretches you out. The time he gives you to stretch and adjust is necessary, but once you have, Jake fills you deliciously.

"How're you feeling baby?" He asks. Your thumb moves across his cheekbone, soothing until the worry lines between his eyebrows disappear. Only responding when you know you're okay and so is he, "Perfect. Feel so full of you."

"I'll fill you up," Jake promises.

"Yeah?" You ask. He hums his agreement and rocks his hips against your experimental, drawing a small gasp from you.

"Promise," he says, starting a lazy punctuated rhythm, moving his hips against yours. Your hands explore the skin of his back as he thrusts into you. You hike a leg up on Jake's hips, letting him get a little deeper in you. The action makes him moan, and he pulls your other leg up around his hip, too.

Hooking your ankles together, you use the leverage to encourage Jake to fuck into you faster. Digging your heels into his ass and lifting your hips up to meet each of his thrusts increases the heat boiling between you. His face falling into your neck, Jake starts whispering dirty praise about how good you feel around him and how long he's been dreaming about this.

Stamina clearly isn't something that Jake is lacking in. He fucks you until you are both dripping with sweat, and you are begging for him noncoherently, unable to process anything but how good his cock feels. He maintains a steady rhythm, snapping his hips to meet yours the whole time.

"You feel so good. Want to get you there again. What do you need?" Jake pants huskily.

"Harder," you answer shakily, snaking your hand to play with your clit. You're close, and you know it's not going to take much more for you to get there with how long Jake's been building you up. He listens, slamming his hips more pointedly into you, grinding his pelvis every time he bottoms out.

Huffing, Jake pulls out of you a few minutes later. Making you cry out wantonly, reaching for his retreating body. He takes a moment to kiss both your hands that he unhooks from his neck. Then, shushing you gently, he grabs a pillow and lifting your hips, he slides it under them.

"It's okay, just a little better angle." He explains to you. You flop back on the bed, content to have Jake manhandle you any which way he wants if it means he'll be in you again.

"Oh, you're such a needy thing, aren't you?" He asks, as your cunt clenches around nothing, empty and wanting him. His fingers dipping in to play with the wet dripping from you. A flash of shame passes through you as he asks that. You drop your arms that had been reaching out for him back to the bed, and you screw your eyes shut, turning your face to the side looking away from him.

Jake had already got you to cum once, and it was possible he didn't want you all over him as he was trying to get off now. Preferences were probably something y'all should have talked about more in depth before jumping into intimacy. You didn't want him to think you were overly needy or hard to please. You didn't want to ruin what you and Jake could have the very first time together. Noticing the shift in your enthusiasm Jake immediately stops pressing his cock into you, worriedly asking, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you answer, staring up at the ceiling looking for patterns there. It's easier to play this off if you don't have to look at him; easier if you don't have to acknowledge the unexpected, unwelcome swell of emotion that's overcoming you.

"Doll, look at me." He orders you, but you shake your head, refusing. Jake grips your chin, tilting your face to meet his eyes. They are intense studying you intently, completely focused on you. "The honesty we just promised each other needs to extend to sex nearly more than anywhere else going forward with this relationship," Jake says seriously. His hard dick is pressed against your thigh, and you don't know how he's able to have such a level-headed conversation considering the circumstances, just having been balls deep in you a minute ago. "So, what's wrong?"

"I don't want to be too high maintenance or needy," You sigh, trying to work through your words. Knowing this conversation is important, but also not completely sure how to express what you're feeling. "Sometimes I might seem needy, or maybe I could take a while to cum or not at all, which wouldn't be a reflection of you. I don't want you to think, well, I don't want to be too much for you to change your mind about this, and now I'm ruining the mood with a dumb fucking insecurity."

"Stop," Jake says gently, but leaving no room for argument. "You haven't ruined anything. I'm sorry I called your pussy needy. I didn't know it would make you feel this way. Can I tell you something, though, Doll?" When you give a hesitant nod, Jake's voice drops so low it's nearly gravelly. "I want you to be needy. I want your pussy desperate for my cock, desperate for my cum. I want you as desperate for me as I am for you."

"You're desperate for me too?"

"Frantically and wildly so." He answers easily. Then he asks with his thumb ghosting over your nub, "Are we okay? Is this still okay?"

"Yeah, this is good," You sigh, enjoying the zing that runs up your back when he nudges your clit more pointedly.

Jake grabs his cock, giving it a few languid strokes before he guides it back into you. You push your hips up to meet him. The new angle that the pillow gives him leverage to hit somewhere that's just a delicious feeling. As he rocks into you, his thumb maintains its place on your clit. Your fear of the mood having been ruined proves wrong as the coil in your core quickly builds, pushing you near the edge once more.

"Cum in me, Jake, please. Give me a baby," you request, your thighs quivering as you near your orgasm.

As his hips snap nearly frantically, Jake rolls your clit over in nearly the same rhythm. He moans your name a minute later, falling over the edge and spilling inside of you. Though his hips stutter to a stop leaving himself fully seated in you, he continues working over your clit. It doesn't take long until you're dissolving into pleasure along with him.

The ripples run through your body, and you feel every muscle tense and relax, turning into jelly. Jake grunts when you spasm around him but doesn't move or pull out until you've fully melted into the bed on the downward crest of your peak.

When he does pull out, he doesn't go far, shifting enough to spoon you. Settling behind you, Jake pulls you close to his chest, wrapping you tight in his arms. His hand is tracing lazy patterns on your hip and occasionally venturing to the soft skin of your belly. You don't have the mind to be self-conscious at the moment, still a little too blissed out. It takes significant brain power to process his question when he asks, "Do you actually want to have a baby?"

"Do you?" You wonder.

"You can't answer a question with a question," Jake chastises you. Turning in his arms so you are sprawled against his chest, you snuggle close, nuzzling him affectionately.

"Do you know how it was seeing you with Jackson today?" You ask him.

"If it was even half of how it felt seeing you hold him, then I'm sorry."

"Whatever you felt, double it. Triple it even." You say lightly. "It was enough for me to ask my friend, who I thought could never want me, for a baby."

"I do want you," Jake immediately reassures you.

"Thank goodness for baby fever, then. Because at least now we know we want each other," you reason, slowly starting to draw mindless patterns of your own against his skin.

Jake heaves a sigh and strokes his hand down your back, wondering, "Was this just baby fever?"

"No," you answer after thinking about it for a long span of silence. "I would have a baby with you. It seems right. I want that, I think." You can feel the relief in his body, hearing that, all his tension easing into relaxation.

"Good," is the only response he gives you, kissing the crown of your head. You expect more but don't get it. Rather, Jake seems content to just bask in the afterglow. That doesn't seem to be too bad an idea, so you close your eyes, listening to his steady heartbeat.

When you wake up from your impromptu nap, you're not alone in bed. However, you are now under the covers of a different comforter than there was before, and Jake is no longer acting as your pillow. He is on the other side of the bed, but his hand is stretched out, grazing the middle of your back.

Rolling to face him, you admire the sight he makes stretched out on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Jake's got a book open, folded in half, clearly abusing the book's binding just so he can have one hand on you. When he notices you sleepily admiring him, Jake shoots you a soft smile.

"Hey baby," he whispers.

"Hi," You whisper back scooting closer to him and grab the hand that had been touching you, threading your fingers together.

"Let's go on a date," Jake suddenly springs on you, squeezing your hand.

"I would love that," you respond, feeling giddy as butterflies erupt in your stomach. "Want something first, though."

"I already told you I would give you anything you want, and I meant it," Jake says, setting his book on his bedside table and giving you his full attention.

"Good, because I want round two and a shower, which hopefully has round three involved."

"Your wish is my command," Jake says easily. You move even closer to him so your lips are only a breath apart. "I meant it, the ring, the house, the baby. I can make it all happen by tomorrow."

"Let's start with breakfast in bed," you say, kissing him hard. When your lips hardly touch because you're both smiling too wide, well, that actually makes it feel all the better.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin x you #hangman imagine #hot hot hot!#hoeing for hangman

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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tropes-and-tales · 7 months

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Good Girl

Day 2: Dry humping (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)

CW: Idiots in love; praise kink; smut (dry humping; outercourse; whatever the youths call it now - clothed grinding and such); 18+ only.

Word Count: 2996

AN: This is loosely related to the very loosely-formed Seresin cousin mini-series, found here. It was requested for Kinktober by @justreblogginfics!)

You and Bob continue your little dance for months.

You know the man likes you. Every time you fly into town to visit your cousin Jake, Bob is always nearby, staring at you on the sly like a lovesick puppy. He’s always just at the edge of the group gatherings—nights at the Hard Deck, parties at Nat’s house, afternoons at the beach—and you always feel those big blue eyes tracking your movements.

Everyone else notices it. Harvard and Yale corner you at the Hard Deck, ask if you’ve noticed that you have an admirer. Nat pulls you aside at her barbeque and obliquely gives you a rundown of Bob’s numerous good traits. Only Jake holds his tongue, but you catch him narrowing his eyes at the WSO enough that you realize even your cousin—your cousin with his penchant for being self-centered, the handsome narcissist with the blinding smile—has noticed Bob’s crush too.

Bob never makes a move.

Nights at the Hard Deck when you blatantly lament being single. The party at Bob’s house where you stayed behind to help him clean up. The little touches you chance: brushing your hand against his, a light hand on his shoulder, friendly hugs…they are an invitation, but he doesn’t pick up on it.

It’s Rooster who clues you in. The man takes your hand one night at the bar and tugs you outside where the ocean crashes along the shore in the darkness. In the dim light, you can just make out the man as he peers down at you.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says. “But you’re going about it all wrong.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You catch the white of his eyes as he rolls them. “C’mon. It’s obvious you like Bob, but you gotta make the move if you’re interested. You gotta be blatant with him. He won’t get it otherwise.”

“Why not?” Your stomach twists unpleasantly; you wonder if perhaps you’ve misread the situation. Maybe Bob has a crush, but maybe it’s just a crush, and maybe there’s someone else he loves and this is just a passing bit of madness—

“Guy’s a brilliant wizzo, but he’s clueless with women.”

Now you roll your eyes at Rooster, and he chuckles at the gesture.

“I’m serious!” he continues, and he holds his hands up, helpless. “I think he misread a situation once with a girl when he was younger, and I think it scared him off of making the first move.”

“That’s a terrible excuse. I got food poisoning from bad tacos once but I still eat tacos.”

Rooster chuckles again. “Yeah, but you women can be devastating when you reject us. I think poor Baby on Board was crushed before and now he’s just a pining little asshole, staring at you from across the bar.”

You shrug helplessly and glance back into the Hard Deck: you can see Bob in profile, and you get the impression that he’s just turned away, that he didn’t want to get caught watching you. Watching you and Rooster together, chatting outside, laughing outside. You feel a wave of sympathy for what Bob must be thinking—that you’re flirting with Rooster, that maybe Bob has missed his chance.

You turn back to the pilot. You square your shoulders. “Okay, I hear you. I’ll be the brave one.” A beat as anxiety blooms in your chest, makes your ribcage feel a fraction tighter, makes it just a bit harder to draw a full breath. “And you’re sure he likes me? You aren’t misreading this somehow? I don’t want to look like an idiot, Bradshaw.”

He laughs outright, and he hooks an arm around your neck to pull you into a friendly hug.

“Ah, kid, he loves you. You make the first move, he’ll probably go ring shopping next weekend,” he says, and he lays a smacking kiss on the side of your head before releasing you, shoving you gently back towards the bar.

-----

You may be confident, but that confidence doesn’t always extend into your romantic life. Still, you decide to be brave.

You make the first move.

When you go back into the Hard Deck, you notice that Bob seems quieter than usual, and you guess that he saw the hug, the friendly kiss between you and Rooster. You guess that he is drawing incorrect conclusions about what he thinks he saw, and you hate to think of him suffering needlessly.

You sidle up to him, and you feel another wave of tenderness towards the man when he turns to look at you—still with that soft smile on his face, a glimmer of hope in his eyes despite what he must be thinking.

“It’s too noisy in here,” you say close to his ear. “I was going to take a walk on the beach. Do you want to join me?”

The hope in his eyes turns blatant. “Really?”

“Yeah. You wanna go? C’mon.” You don’t give him a chance to stammer his way out of it; you thread your arm through his and tug him towards the door, and he follows you without any resistance.

You catch Rooster’s eye, then Nat’s as you leave. The former tips you a knowing wink. The latter gives you a nod, and she lifts her glass in a salute.

You don’t release him until you’re at the water’s edge, and you bend down to untie your sneakers and peel out of your socks. He hesitates a beat then joins you, and he rolls up the pants to his uniform so that his shins are bare.

The two of you walk along the shore in silence for a bit. It’s one of the things you like best about Bob—how he lacks the braggadocio to always talk, to always fill up every bit of silence with the sound of his own voice. You know he’s perhaps more shy than the average person, but he doesn’t seem undone by it. He seems comfortable just to be himself: quieter than most, willing to sit back and watch.

Case in point: you hold your shoes and socks in one hand, and you take his hand with your free one. Maybe he’s nervous, but his palm is warm and dry, not sweaty or twitchy. If he’s nervous, it’s not obvious.

And he breaks the silence, after a while.

“Growing up in the Midwest, I never even saw the ocean until I enlisted,” he says.

“Same,” you reply. “I mean, growing up in Texas, we went to Galveston a few times, but that was technically the Gulf, not the ocean.”

“You like it?”

You feel the water lapping around your ankles, the give of the sand underneath your soles. “I do,” you admit. “There’s something really peaceful about it, and I love poking around at low tide and looking for sea glass.”

He glances at you, and you can hear the teasing in his voice when he replies, “I’m gonna tell Hangman that his cousin only visits him because he’s stationed along the coast.”

The words slip out of your mouth before you even realize you’re saying them. “Maybe I only visit Jake because I like one of his coworkers.”

The light-hearted feeling of the moment deflates; Bob goes silent. He takes a beat to reply, and when he does, his voice sounds strained.

“Bradley.” It comes out curt, two quick syllables. A statement, not a question.

You shake your head, let out a grumble of disagreement. Up ahead, you can see the outline of a lifeguard station, painted white and rising ghostly out of the night. You want to sit with him and finally talk with him, so you tug his hand and lead him there. The two of you sit on the steps, side by side, hips touching and facing the ocean.

“Not Bradley,” you tell him as you pick up the thread of the conversation.

“I saw you tonight—”

You shake your head again, cut him off. “He wanted to talk to me,” you tell Bob. “About you.”

You feel him go rigid beside you, and he huffs out a frustrated breath. If there was more light, you’d see the furious blush that breaks out across his face, but it’s dark enough that you can only guess at his embarrassment.

And now that you’ve opened the Pandora’s box, you can hardly take it back, so you plunge forward. Usually confident, you’re glad for the darkness too—you hope it hides your shaky hands, your inability to turn and meet his eyeline.

“I think you’re great, Bobby. Honestly. I thought you were handsome the moment I met you, but then I got to know you, and you’re quiet but you’re funny and sweet, and I was giving all these signs that I was into you, but nothing…I mean, I like you a lot and it’s just…” You trail off, lose your words like an idiot. You hadn’t enough time to rehearse this in your head; you just grabbed him at the Hard Deck and dragged him out here, and now you’re fumbling it completely. You drop your head and swipe your sweaty palms along the sides of your shorts, and you take a deep breath—

You hear his soft “hey,” and then a split second later you feel his warm hand on your face, tilting your head up and turning you to face him, but nothing on earth could prepare you for the way Bob Floyd kisses: gentle but firm, only a bit hesitant. His lips are soft, and he breathes out a quiet groan when you reach up and lay your own hand along the side of his neck.

Your thoughts go fuzzy. Your concentration—all the words you were fumbling to say—is shot, but when you try to break the kiss to finish what you were saying, Bob shakes his head faintly and mumbles against you lips.

“I know,” he says, and you can hear his accent breaking through. “I know, honey. Me too.”

Then he kisses you again, firmer this time, and a moment later, when he runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your mouth, you open yourself to him, allow him to taste you. You taste him too, and Bob Floyd tastes like the grenadine-laced Coke he nurses each night at the Hard Deck, never much of a drinker even on the rowdiest night.

If nothing could prepare you for the way he kisses, then certainly nothing could prepare you for how sweetly dominant he is, how perfectly he walks the line between gentlemanly and not. Your clumsy confession must have given him the wherewithal to take charge, and you’re surprised when he puts a hand on your waist and gently urges you to turn towards him…then how he just as gently urges you to climb onto his lap.

It doesn’t take much urging, you find. You’ve been ravenous for months for this exact moment, and you had thought it’d never come. You break away long enough to study his face—this close, and with the faint light of the half-moon in the sky above you, you can see his wide blue eyes, his parted lips as he gazes back at you. You don’t see any hesitancy in his expression at all, but then he breathes out, “please, honey” and he squeezes your waist, so you clamber onto him with no grace whatsoever, but neither of you care because the moment you’re settled on him, you bend your head to kiss him again.

As it turns out, maybe Bob was just as ravenous for this moment too. He puts his other hand on your waist too, draws you closer to him, and you can feel the nudge and brush of his growing erection against your inner thigh. He makes a strangled, pained sort of groan in the back of his throat the first time you touch him there, and his hands spasm on your waist, grip you tighter before he schools himself and apologizes.

You break the kiss, slow the moment down. You cup his face between your palms and hold him steady, tilt his face up towards yours.

“Bobby, why didn’t you ever say anything?” you whisper.

He shakes his head against your hold and offers you a rueful grin. “Didn’t think you were interested.”

You snort and press a light kiss to his forehead, then another few to his cheeks, the tip of his nose. You can feel how flushed he is under your lips.

“You think I just randomly hang back at parties to help the host clean up?” you tease. You shift your head, whisper the words in his ear, and you note how he squirms under you. He’s growing harder, even at your playful kisses.

“Just thought…ah, just thought y-you were bein’ nice.” His accent comes out stronger, and his hands squeeze you tighter again before he loosens his grip. “You’re always so…so nice to everyone.”

“I’m nicest to you,” you point out. You kiss a trail along the line of his neck, and he tilts his head to grant you the space. At his pulse point, you can feel his heartbeat thundering away there, so you bare your teeth and nip him—not enough to hurt or even sting, but he groans out “shit, honey” and wraps a strong arm around your waist, hauls you right up against where he’s straining against his uniform for you. His other hand finds the back of your neck, and he draws you to him, kisses you breathless as he guides you against him, sets a steady, rocking motion against him.

It's too much: the way his clothed erection hits you just right, how he pushes you back and forth, over and over, until you are so wet that you’re certain you’ve soaked through your panties and your shorts. Everything feels sensitive, swollen, but he keeps guiding you, lifts his own hips in time to the rhythm he sets. It’s too much but it’s not nearly enough, and you wish you’d known how this entire evening was going to unravel because you would have just taken him home instead—

“This good?” he asks. His face is tucked against your neck; you’re a fraction higher than him, perched in his lap, and he works his mouth almost lazily against your neck, your throat, the underside of your jaw. He has one arm around your waist, holding you tight to him, but his other hand settles against your ass, kneads you there, digs his fingertips into the fat of your ass like he wants to own you.

You start to make a joke about being surprised to find he’s an ass man, but then he dips his head, works an open-mouthed kiss right where the swell of your breasts begin. You whine at the sensation and thread your fingers through his hair. You hold him there, and the desire coursing through you—the sharp ache between your thighs, the prickly-hot flush across your skin—makes you feel fuzzy, light-headed. You remember he asked you a question, so you answer him, nod hard and mumble yes, he’s making you feel good, he’s making you feel amazing, but what about him?

“Don’t worry about me.” He nips at your collarbone, runs his tongue along the line of it, dips his tongue into the divot at the base of your throat. “Wanna make you come, honey.”

Hearing those words come from his mouth makes your desire rachet up higher, hotter. You grip his hair harder, whine out his name, but then he adds, “you gonna be my good girl and come for me?”

There’s no way he could have known of your praise kink, so it’s just a lucky guess, but the unexpected phrase—my good girl…fuck if it doesn’t make you cock-drunk and stupid. No other guy really ever cracked the code of that kink for you. A few had made half-hearted attempts when you mentioned it, but Bob Floyd stumbles over it immediately, and your mind goes blissfully blank: yes, you want to be his good girl. Yes, you want to come for him. Whatever he wants. Anything he wants. Everything he wants.

You let go of your hold on his hair, and you cup his face again, tilt his head up so you can kiss him. “Yes,” you whisper just before you slot your mouth over his, push your tongue against his, kiss him so deeply that you’re sharing the same breath, mapping the inside of his mouth with your tongue, memorizing every bit of him you can. Yes, yes. Yes to all of it.

Mind blank, your pleasure overtakes you: you feel the heat and friction from where he sets you grinding against him, you feel the bulge of his cock hitting you perfectly, and every bit of him—his subtle cologne, the soft feel of his hair, the quiet little groans he makes, the flex of his muscles as he holds you—pushes you close to the edge. You teeter there, you ride him faster, the seam of your shorts pressing deliciously against your swollen clit, but it’s his words that push you over. His quietly domineering orders.

“Come for me,” he whispers, and it’s a harsh, punched-out sound that makes your stomach swoop when you hear it. “My good, sweet girl. Come for me.”

Your orgasm breaks around you like a wave, and Bob releases his hold on your ass to draw you closer to him, let you ride it out as you shudder against him. Both arms wrapped around your waist as pleasure sparks outward from your core, travels up your spine and courses through your limbs until your head is swimming and he’s tucking you against him.

“That’s it,” he whispers into your hair. “Good girl. So fucking good for me.”

And all you can respond with is yes, yes. Only for you, Bobby.

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #top gun maverick #tropes and tales #kinktober 2023

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Note

I can’t tell you how excited I am for the next update. Want to see Jake absolutely down bad for his wife after taking her home.

Settle in nonny this one got a little steamy. As always here’s the Masterlist for To Have & To Hold

“Well—“ Doctor Perry paused as she flashed a light up your nostril. “There’s definitely some major swelling in your sinuses that will definitely cause some major bruising.” Popping her small flashlight back into her top breast pocket. “But I don’t think there’s any major cause to be too concerned, no broken bones or cartilage."

Jake sat by the window stone cold as he listened to the doctor explain what you would need to be cautious of over the coming days. Dry blood clots, a loss of smell and taste even. Headaches and swelling from the bruising. All because some douchebag didn’t understand the word no. His knuckles still bloodied and cut from laying into the guy who tried it on with you. A trip to the emergency department to get you all checked before heading home. Well, heading to Jakes. Home was wherever he inevitably was.

“I’ll get your discharge papers ready and you’ll be all good to go—“ Doctor Perry smiled as she collected her things, sending Jake a soft smirk aswell. “Your wife here is very lucky there isn’t more extensive damage, she’s pretty beat up but she’ll recover quite quickly all things considered.”

“You saying she’s got a thick head doc?” Jake couldn’t help but to taunt as he rested his head in his hand. Elbow holding his wait on the armrest of the chair he so casually sat man spreading in. “Because I tell her that all the time, so it’s nice to have a professional diagnosis.” Doctor Perry just shook her head as she tried to hide her laughter. Walking out of the room just as Jake got up from his chair with a dramatic groan. Sauntering over to where you sat with your legs hung over the examination bed.

“You think you’re really clever for that one aren’t you?” You beamed, eyes so full of love. “If one of us has a thick head it’s you, Mr. Seresin.” Pointing a finger into Jake's chest as his hands came to linger on your waist. Standing between your legs. “Thankyou for bringing me to get checked out, it’s nice to know there’s nothing seriously wrong.”

“Happy to be of service, Mrs. Seresin.” Jake was expecting you to tell him off like you always did whenever he had the audacity to call you Mrs. Seresin over the last year and a half. But to his surprise? You didn’t. If anything he caught a glimpse of something in your eye. Something that told him that you were okay with it—that you were in fact, Mrs. Jake Seresin. “I’d do just about anything for you Hawkeye, you know that.”

“How are the hands holding up?” You asked softly as you brought them down gently against Jakes. His hands on your hips, your hands on his. He didn’t mean to let out such a hiss, but it escaped momentarily when you relaxed against him. “Fuck, sorry sorry—“ Removing your hands from Jakes he shook his head in response.

“No don’t be, just a little banged up.” He was honestly fine. “Nothing I can’t handle, nothing I wouldn’t do again if I needed to.” Tilting your chin up slightly with his fingers, Jake paused as his eyes lingered from your lips to your eyes. “I think I’m falling in love with you all over again.”

“Be honest with me.” You let your eyes wander as well, gaze cascading down from Jake's eyes to his lips then climbing again. “Did you ever really stop?”

“Oh god no—no never.” Jake Seresin was very aware he had his own flaws and weaknesses. He wasn’t claiming to be a perfect man or a man without vice. But he really did love you. “I could never stop loving you even if you told me tomorrow you wanted absolutely nothing to do with me.”

“Good thing I love you back then huh?” You tried to hide your smirk by biting your bottom lip softly. Jake's hands came to cup your cheeks as he pulled you in for a kiss so soft. He didn’t want to hurt you. But it was the laugh you let out against his lips that had Jake pulling away.

“What’s so funny?” Jake’s never been so infatuated with your laugh before. Infectious and endearing. Laughing harder with every passing second as you clapped your hands together before bringing them up to cover your mouth. “Babe, what’s so funny?” Smiling back at you Jake let himself rest his forehead against yours. Hands lingering on your hips yet again. “What is it?”

“Us—“ You beamed, your laugh diminishing to nearly nothing. “Us and this whole mess.” Wiping your tears that had formed while you were laughing. “Only us Jake, only we would end up broken and bruised from a simple dinner.”

“Yeah, we don’t half arse a night out do we?”

“Okay!” Like high school sweethearts being caught behind the bleachers by the teacher on duty, Jake was pulling away with a cough to clear his throat as doctor Perry came back into the room. “I have your discharge papers ready to go.” Trying to hide a bashful smile you took the forms from her gracefully. “Just try and refrain from any high intensity cardio workouts for at least a week while the swelling goes down. I mean the worst that could happen would be a bloody nose but still—if it can be avoided I’d rather you do so.”

“Uh, yeah yeah—that won’t be a problem.” You nodded as Jake raised a questioning brow from the sideline. His arms crossed over his chest with a devious smirk plastered on his face. “Thanks again doc, for everything.”

“Yeah, thanks doc.” Jake added as he handed you his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders. “C’mon wifey, let’s get you home.” Jake's arm wasn’t far behind his jacket. Guiding you out of the room and out of the emergency department with a protective arm slung over your shoulders. “You still want to come round to my place?” You let his question linger in the darkness of the hospital car park. Walking side by side with your arm wrapped around the small of Jake's back as his wrapped around your shoulders. “Y/n?”

“Yeah, yeah no let’s go.” With a soft smile and a heart full of love for your husband, you walked with him back to his car. Knowing full well the second you stepped foot through the threshold of Jake's humble abode, you would be going against direct orders from Doctor Perry. Cardio was very much on the agenda.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Fuck—! Oh my, shit—!” Jake Seresin was a lucky man. A very lucky man. You never even made it to the bedside before your lips were on each other’s. Jake being incredibly careful of your nose, kissing you with passion but no force what so ever—letting you control the momentum.

“Feels so fucking good—!” An angel. That’s the only thing Jake could describe the way you sounded bouncing on top of his cock. His hands helping to guide you, lift you and slam you down his length. “So good baby.” Your velvet walls were so tight around his shaft, slicking Jake's length so well. “More Jake more—!” Your nectar dribbled down to the hilt, a wet slapping sound echoing off the walls of Jake Seresin's living room as you rode him on the lounge.

“God you're perfect, so beautiful.” It was the way Jake's voice groaned in your head an o five or two deeper than normal that really got you going. “So fucking pretty riding me like this?” His lips on your neck, attacking you with sweet nothings as he sucked marks up and down the junction of your shoulder. “Guess blondes really do have more fun huh?” You didn’t falter as Jake wrapped a hand into your hair, pulling your head back to expose more of your neck as a moan escaped and echoed throughout the house. “Fucking Christ you’ll be the death of me if you keep fucking me like this.”

“Who am I, baby.” It wasn’t a question, you knew. But you wanted to hear Jake say it. You wanted to hear your husband say what you were so you could get off to it. “Say it Jake—“ slowly rolling your hips as you took every inch Jake had to the hilt of his length. Throbbing inside you.

“You’re mine—“ Jake growled with a protectiveness so primal it sent waves of electricity shooting through your body as the pad of his thumb came to draw soft circles around your clit. The sensitive bundle of nerves crying out of attention. Overjoyed with pleasure as Jake gave you want you so desperately craved. “You’re mine baby, always have been always will be.” Watching you with hooded eyes and a high pooling at the base of his shift, Jake worked you a little faster, matching the rhythm and pace you set riding his cock. “Would ask you to marry me but I’ve already done that.”

“Jake!!” God he loved the way you said his name why chasing your high— an orgasm so powerful building in the pit of your stomach. “Oh god oh god oh god yes—fuck me.” That was all Jake needed to hear before he was pulling your chest to his, holding your arms behind your back with a tight grip on your wrist. “Ahhh-! Fuck! Jake please.”

“Don’t worry I got you.” Smirking, Jake planted his feet lifting you slightly before he began bucking his hips up into you. “I’ll take it from here shall I?” Taunting you as he fucked hard and fast and deep into you. “I know you can take it beautiful, god wish you could see how gorgeous you look stuffed.” You were drooling, dripping down Jakes chest as he fucked you—holding you to his chest with your arms behind your back.

“I’m—oh fuck I’m gonna cu—cum I’m gonna cum.” Babbling like a mad woman Jake didn’t slow, if anything he got faster at the thought of feeling you come undone around him. “Please—!”

“I got you sweetheart let go.” Jake groaned in your ear as he kissed your cheek softly. “Cum for me, I’ll come with you—just say when and I’m there.” He’d been holding back for this moment, determined to experience euphoria with you. The love of his life. “Cum baby, all over my cock.”

“Shit!!” You cried as your legs shook and your eyes rolled. “Cumming cumming cumming—“ that’s all you could muster to say, one word over and over again as your jaw eventually slacked. “Jake!”

“Ohhhh fuck yess—“ Hot sports of cum shot deep I add your cunt. Filling you to the very brim as Jake slowed his role, his hips no longer slamming against you more so grinding. Keeping himself tucked deep inside as his balls tighten to new extremes. Emptying everything he had inside you. “Oh Y/n, baby—“

“Fucking hell, you’ll never be a bad fuck.” Sighing as you chuckled softly into Jake's chest. He was quick to wrap his arms around you tight. Kissing your cheek. Your wrist red from his grin. “So good.”

“That's all I am huh? A good fuck?” Jake looked down as you looked up, a little blood started to run from your nose. Doctor Perry had warned you, but you really needed to be with your husband.

“No—You’re my everything.” It was the honest truth. “And I know I probably wasn’t the best wife before.”

“Don’t—“ Jake tried to interrupt you, knowing you were about to put the blame on yourself for your marriage breakdown. “You left because I wasn’t worth staying for, but I’m learning to be a better man for you.” Wiping the blood that dripped from your nose with a tissue Jake had gabbed you from the small coffee table beside the lounge as you sat up. Jake still burrows to the hilt inside you. His cock softening over time. “I wanna win you back, that’s all that matters to me anymore, you, us.”

“What about this special detachment?” Shoving the tissue up your nose, Jake could not have been more in love. “Isn’t that super important to Mr best of the best?” You were expecting Jake to tell you it was, that it was just as important. Because that’s the way it had become with him. Work was a top priority. But it wasn’t the answer you got.

“I’d leave this detachment tomorrow if it meant I got you back for good.” It felt so surreal to hear. “I love you, so much—and you’ve never been hard to get, at all Y/n.” Jake followed you as you leaned back. His hands holding your exposed back as he wrapped your legs around his waist. Standing. “You’re hard to earn.”

“You are really turning up the charm, Hangman.” Taunting his callsign his way you beamed as Jake pressed you up against the nearest wall. Your arms around his neck. “But are you being for real? You’d give up flying this mission—for me?” He didn’t skip a beat, Jake knew how important his devotion truly meant to you. He’d forgotten to put you fear for so long that you left just to feel important to yourself again. He’d forgotten to be a husband first and foremost before an Aviator. Deep down he knew he could do both—but for now? There was one thing that he wanted to mend again. Wanted back more than anything in the entire world. You.

“Without hesitation.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~*

Grey skies loomed above, threatening to wash away the beautiful flowers that littered around and above the dark wooden coffin. Glossed and proper. The jarring claps of gunfire saluting a fallen aviator rang across the fields—forcing a jolt from you each time as you stood holding the perfectly folded flag in your arms.

“You knew this was coming—“ It was Jakes voice clear as day that spoke softly in your ear. A gentle breeze rushing past you and you closed your eyes tight. Tears spilling down your cheeks. “You’re the only one here?” Opening your eyes, suddenly it was just you. The clouds above now dark and stormy. Raining down heavy as you stood by Jake's coffin.

“I don’t remember what happened?” Crying as you looked around for someone. Anyone. “Jake!?”

“We’re glad it was him instead of one of us.” Spinning around to face where Bob stood in his dress whites. “It was rightfully him.”

“You don’t mean that.” Sobbing uncontrollably as you feel to your knees. Jake was there to console you. “You don’t!”

“No, he doesn’t—but you do.” Anger laced in his voice as the colour in his eyes began to fade into a light grey. No light or life behind them. “Why did you send me on that suicide mission honey? You could have just divorced me?”

“But I don’t remember!” You were inconsolable at this point. A sobbing mess in the wet grey beside Jake's coffin. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t—I don’t want to divorce you, I love you I—I don’t wanna lose you.” Looking up as you sat back on your heels it was just you again. Sitting in the pouring rain. “I can’t lose you.”

With a sudden gasp you felt your head leave the pillow. Eyes blurry as you tried to distinguish reality from dreamscape. Looking around the room before your eyes fell to the emptiness beside you. No—surely not. With panic bubbling just beneath the surface you hurried to find a T-shirt, any T-shirt that Jake had discarded on the floor. Fuck pants, there was no time for pants. Pulling the almost wash ready shirt over your head as you padded down the hall.

“Jake? Hey Hangman! you still around?” Checking the bathroom first, maybe he had gone for a shower. Nothing. Not a sign of life anywhere in the white tiled bathroom. “Jake?” You called out again as you continued your search, landing in the living room to also find nothing. “No—no no no no.”

Your dream was starting to play nasty little tricks on you. Or were you dreaming now? Pinching your forearm as you fort of tears, you made your way to the kitchen. Stopping in your tracks when you saw him, Jake—standing at the stove top. Eggs cooking in a pan as toast toasted in the toaster off to the side.

A sigh of relief and a wave of emotions flooded your systems as you bent down to let your hands rest on your knees. Fucking Christ, Jake had been wearing his AirPods. Music blasting as he cooked. Only realising you had joined him when he turned to check if the toast had popped. Eyes beaming with a bright closed mouth smile.

“Full disclosure I literally went for a run in that shirt like three days ago and it’s been on my floor ever since.” Pointing the spatula he had been using to cook the eggs your way. You let yourself into his side, reaching up to gently kiss Jake's cheek as you brought your arms around his waist. “Mornin’ gorgeous.” You took in the scent of Jake as you held him sight, just grounding yourself for a moment as you watched him flip your egg. Remembering you liked it a little more cooked. “You okay?”

“Just had a bit of a bad dream.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You didn’t want to ruin a good thing. Shaking your head softly with a sigh as you let go. Heading over to the coffee pot Jake had brewed up.

“I’m okay, just wasn’t expecting to wake up alone.” Although you had become used to sleeping alone. After the psychological thriller you’ve just woken up from, it would have been nice to be met with Jake's warm body pressed against yours. His back still had red raw claw marks from his upper traps to the small of his waist—you’d dug deep. Watching as soft muscle moved absentmindedly as he worked to plate up breakfast. “You cook all your little girlfriends breakfast or is it just me?” Taunting Jake as he laid your egg down gently on the toast. Turning to hand over the plate as you walked back over. Coffee cup in hand with a teasing smirk.

“Only the ones who hog the whole bed.” He fired back. “You need to learn a thing or two about personal space.” Your jaw hung slack as you took the plate. Jake laughed with a low chuckle. His morning voice a few octaves lower than normal. “I’m serious, I had probably an inch of room to work with last night.” Taking a bite of his own eggs on toast, Jake took in the extent of the bruising that had come up overnight. You watched his eyes lingering around your face.

“How bad is it?”

“It’s not too bad, I’d say tomorrow is when it’ll look like you've gone a few rounds with Rocky.” Jake tried to downplay the severity of the bruising. “Does it hurt?”

“Eh, just a little—under my eyes mostly.” Besides some pressure it didn’t feel all that bad. “Think I might just wear some sunglasses around the office today.” Laughing softly as you ate your breakfast, sipped your coffee and enjoyed each other’s company, the panic you felt in your chest from your nightmare soon dissolved. It hasn’t been the first time, but it had been the first for a while. “What time do you need to be in today?”

“Ah—“ Jake looked at his wrist although he wasn’t wearing a watch. Knowing Javy would soon be on his doorstep. “Like, now—but Coyotes picking me up so until he gets here I’m golden, what about you?”

“Well I just need to be there for phase two training today, you know—make sure all my little simulations are correct and make adjustments to anything that doesn’t really work.” You pondered what time that also told you, a questioning brow upon your face as you finished your toast and dusted your hairs. “I think like ten thirty? That’s run time isn’t it?”

“Ay!” Coyote frowned as he came bursting through Jake's front door. “Whatch’a mean you need a lift for man? Your cars in the damn drive?” He hadn’t looked up as he shit the door behind him. Hadn’t noticed you and Jake both standing very close together enjoying a moment. “Lazy man, that’s what you are—oh shit.” As soon as Coyote took a step in, he looked up. Spitting you both as you smiled and waved.

“Hawkeye needs my car to get to work later dipshit, I drove her to the emergency room last night.” Last night huh? So why were you still here then?

“Yeah no doubt, that’s from the headbutt?” Javy questioned as he stood with his hands under his armpits. Confirming his suspicions you nodded gently. “Fucking hell he wasn’t messing around was he?” Jake caught to shift in your expression, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to let every Tom, Dick and Harry point out the bruises on your face. Sending Javy a glare when you ducked your head to catch your reflection in the mirror across the room. “Sorry, my bad Lieutenant Commander, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“Javy, I’m literally not wearing any pants.” You chuckled, fixing yourself up as you kissed Jake on the cheek. A gesture which didn’t go unnoticed by the Lieutenant with the ride. “I think we’re on a first name basis here, don’t you think?”

“Right, well then—Hawk, I’m gonna go ahead and steal your man because if he doesn’t kick into fear we’re gonna be late.”

“I’ll catch you later alright?” Jake kissed you softly atop your head before he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. Finally and waiting for you to initiate the force, being way too careful to not hurt you, Jake left a loving kiss upon your lips. “Just leave my car at yours and I’ll catch a ride with you home.”

“Okay.” It felt like all the stars had finally aligned. It felt so utterly amazing to have Jake on the same page again. To feel loved and in blissful ignorance of just how terrible things could go if things were to go bad. But for now? You stuck at it, giving Jake Seresin just one more chance, giving him the chance to be a better version of the already amazing man he was. The man you fell in love with. “See you soon.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~*

“I was right about the eleventh man theory wasn't I?” Jake smirked. whispering as he came to stand next to Rooster. Rooster was adamant if there hadn’t been so many people around he would have clocked Jake up the side of the jaw himself, but the risk to reward ratio didn't weigh up in his favour. “What exactly did you do?”

“I messed up.” Rooster's eyes never left Chaos as he watched her leave the locker room, doing up his flight suit as he sighed. His fist slamming against the thin door of his locker. Leaving an indent. “I messed up big time.”

“God what is it with everyone abusing the lockers this morning?” Fanboy questioned as Bob shook his head as if to say don't ask. Jake was trying his best to put the pieces together, opting to place his hand on Roosters shoulder. Smirking, still chewing that piece of gum, Rooster secretly hoped he’d choke on.

“Oh well, you know what they say man, the more you fuck around the more you find out.” Jake chuckled as he went back to minding his own business.

“Heard you got into a pretty heavy altercation last night?” Roosters mentioned as he bent down to meet his foot. Lacing you the strings as his foot rested against the bench. “You uh, you good?”

“Some douchebag tried it on with Hawk, head butted the ever living shit out of her.” Rooster could vividly see the anger rising in Jake's eyes. Clenching his jaw so tight for a second he thought his teeth would shatter.

“Shit, she alright?” Rooster was genuinely concerned. Not so much for the bruises that littered Jake's knuckles or the fact he was clearly struggling with the replay of that moment in his head—Rooster was concerned for you. A friend. A colleague. Nevertheless he was glad Jake had been there for you. “Did Penny kick the guy out or?”

“We didn’t stick around to find out.” A sigh rolled off Jake's tongue as he stretched his back. “Also, just don’t mention the bruises.” Jake was being deadset serious. His heart ached and his stomach felt uneasy just thinking about the bruises that had settled in a little too nice on your face. He didn’t want anyone making you feel bad, intentional or unintentional. “Or so help me god you won’t get a chance to fix whatever mess you made with Chaos."

***~***~***~***~***~***~*

True to your word—it was a sunglasses indoors type of day. Mainly keeping to yourself for the most part, eventually though you did venture outside into the hanger. Just after the TopGun Graduates had been told to go gear up.

“Who’s up first?” Mavericks turned to where he had heard your heels clicking against the concrete. Making your way over to him.

“Payback, Fanboy and Hangman.” Maverick as he tapped his own glasses. “Heard about last night.”

“You should see the other guy—“ Trying to keep a positive attitude the more your headache seemed to grow. “Could’ve been a lot worse if Jake wasn’t there.” You hated to think for even a moment what could have happened if Jake hadn’t stepped in. “How’s he going anyway? With all this.”

“Yeah well, he’s got skill I’ll give him that—but what he lacks in ability to get along with others will most likely end up costing him down the line.” You appreciated Mavericks honesty as you walked with him out toward the taxi way. Spitting Jake doing a once over on his super hornet.

He’d left a small bunch of flowers on your desk, a note that read ‘For the love of my life’ attached to the handpicked flowers he’d stolen from one of the Neighbours gardens on his way to work. Coyote had given him shit, but he didn’t care. Jake knew that they would make you smile. He knew his mission had been accomplished as you wave his way. Still talking with Maverick as you walked by.

“Pete, can I be frank with you for a moment?” Your fear of losing Jake after just reconnecting had started to overwhelm you. You weren’t about to throw your heart out into the open just for it to be destroyed by external factors.

“Sure Hawkeye, what’s up.” Pete stopped in his tracks, Jake watched from his place by his F-18, squaring your shoulders and puffing your chest.

“If for whatever reason you feel that Jake is the right person for this mission.” You were projecting a fear that was far too much for you to truly handle. “If anything bad were to happen to him?” Stepping a little closer so no one else heard you. Putting the fear of god in Pete Michael, knowing he was still trying to forgive himself for the last person that blamed him entirely for the loss of a loved one. Seeing that weakness and deciding you needed to use it to your own advantage to try and keep your husband safe.

“I’ll hold you personally responsible.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @justanothermagicalsara @alexsisrebekah @stinkyjax @starkleila @luckyladycreator2 @love2write2626 @shanimallina87 @dempy @mintellaine @kiarabellerum31 @abaker74

#to have & to hold // jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #hangman seresin

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 10 months

Text

Three Four, That’s the Magic Number - Hangman

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin / Wife!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog is 18+ Only!

Warnings: (Unplanned) Pregnancy; (Failed) Vasectomies; Humor; Suggestive Language; Marital Disagreements; Threats of Kicks to the Balls; Female Reader with No Description, No Y/N, Second Person POV, Use of "You"

Summary: You thought that three kids was it. But apparently your husband, Hangman, didn't have as successful of a vasectomy as you initially thought.

Master List

Holding your head in your hand, you tried to quell your sudden nausea as your husband continued to drive you and your family across town to the Bradshaw family home for a Dagger pool day. Your head was pounding and you swore that your body was naturally swaying on its own and your kids fighting in the back seat was not helping your mood.

“Hey!” Jake barked when your son kicked the back of your seat, causing all three of your kids to jump. “Sit down and apologize to your mama right now, Charlie.”

“Sorry, Mama,” Charlie mumbled out quietly.

“Thank you, baby,” you replied softly, still feeling out of it.

“If you three don’t stop fighting, we’re not going to the pool,” Jake warned your three kids. Coming to a stop at a red light, he turned around to shoot them the classic ‘do not test me today’ look that your kids knew to not test. “So, if you want to go to the pool and play with your friends, you’re going to stop fighting. Got it?”

“Yes, Daddy,” the three of them chorused together.

Turning to shoot you a concerned look, since you hadn’t looked like yourself for what felt like days now, Jake started driving again when the light turned green. Pulling into the Bradshaw driveway, you slowly got out of your seat and moved to pull your kids out of the back. Jake grabbed the food and took Liam and set him on his hip so that you could walk in without any extra weight.

The Bradshaw house was packed with the Daggers and their families. The years since the uranium facility mission had only made the Dagger relationships stronger and even though they didn’t all live near each other anymore, they made efforts to get together when they could. Especially with a lot of their kids being around the same age.

Your three kids quickly joined in the activities with the other Dagger babies, letting you get a brief moment of peace. You and Jake stepped out into the backyard with Jake resting a concerned hand on your lower back, as if he was worried that you’d collapse on him.

“Are you sure that you’re fine?” Jake asked worriedly.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I probably just need to eat and drink some more water. That’s all.”

“Go sit down. I’ll grab you something.”

Jake reluctantly parted from your side and headed inside again while you made your way over to where Phoenix and Payback’s wife Dana were sitting by the pool. The direct sun caused your head to pound once again.

“You look horrible,” Phoenix commented, causing you to sigh and drop onto a chair.

“I feel horrible,” you muttered, shifting the umbrella over to block the sun.

“Are you sick?” Dana asked, sitting up.

“No. I don’t have a fever or anything like that. It’s probably just some stomach thing or just me being exhausted.”

“You’re nauseous?”

“Only sometimes,” you replied with a shrug, lying flat on your back.

“Have you been sleeping well?”

“No,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes and blinking slowly. “Liam’s still sleeping in our bed most nights and he usually kicks one of us awake. Mostly Jake, actually.”

“Eh, Hangman probably deserved it,” Phoenix muttered, shrugging her shoulders.

“Love you too, Phoenix,” Jake muttered, arriving on the scene.

He offered you a plate of food and a cup of water. You took the offering from your husband and shot him a small smile. In return, Jake leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“Thanks, baby,” you told him, smiling softly.

“You’ll let me know if you need to go home, right?” Jake asked you, shooting that look that he always did whenever you over-exerted yourself.

“Yes, Commander Seresin,” you replied sarcastically, shooting him an exasperated expression.

“We don’t need to be here for your foreplay,” Phoenix stated from behind Jake, causing Dana to burst out into snickers.

“Daddy!” Annie called, causing Jake to immediately spin around to see her standing on the steps of the pool with Bob right beside her. “Come play in the pool!”

“I’m coming, Princess!”

Jake peeled off his shirt and handed it over to you. Shooting you one last concerned look, Jake headed over to join Annie in the pool. You folded his shirt up and set it beside you before reaching for your water.

“How long have you been feeling ill?” Dana asked as you sipped at your water. “Jake seems pretty concerned.”

“About a week,” you replied quietly, reaching for the food that he brought you.

“You made an appointment?”

“Not yet. But I’m worried that he’ll make one for me if I drag my feet anymore,” you stated honestly, popping a grape into your mouth.

“Are you telling me that we’re in for another classic Hangman freak out?” Phoenix sighed, taking a long sip of her beer. “I haven’t had enough drinks to deal with that yet.”

“I think that Annie’s keeping him distracted for now,” you responded, smiling as Jake tossed Annie up in the air and caught her. Annie squealed as Jake pressed a kiss to her cheek and tossed her in the air again. “She’s got him wrapped around her finger at all times.”

You moved to eat some crackers and cheese, keeping everything lighter and stomach friendly. But when your caught a whiff of potato salad that all seemed to be for nothing. Plugging your nose, you quickly set down your food and sipped at your water to try and keep your stomach from rolling dangerously.

“Do you need Jake?” Dana asked, sitting up.

“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Phoenix added, sharing a look with Dana.

“I’m fine. And stop looking at me like that or Jake is going to notice.”

“I’d make that appointment soon,” Phoenix told you honestly. “Not much gets by him. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“No, you’re right,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair. Staring up at the umbrella over your head, you sunk a bit more into your seat. “I’ll make the appointment.”

~~~~~

“Any allergies?” the nurse asked you.

“No, none,” you replied, sitting up on the exam table of your doctor’s office.

“Any changes to your medication?”

“Nope.”

“When was your last period?”

“I don’t know, probably three weeks ago or something like that,” you replied, not entirely sure. You hardly kept track of it anymore at this stage in your life.

“And any chance that you could be pregnant?” she asked, causing you to shake your head.

“My husband had a vasectomy.”

“But are you still sexually active?”

“Yes.”

“In the last few months?”

“Yes.”

“Then, we’ll need you to take a urine test,” the nurse assistant replied, pulling out a plastic cup from the cupboard. “It’s standard procedure.”

Reluctantly, you took the cup and headed down the hall to the bathroom. After what felt like twenty years, your doctor finally entered your exam room.

“How are we doing today, Mrs. Seresin?”

“I’ve been better,” you replied, swinging your legs back and forth.

“Yes, I understand that.”

Your doctor asked you a series of questions, did a quick physical exam, before returning to the computer in the corner of the room. Typing in your answers and some notes to herself, your doctor turned back to you.

“Well, I think with all of your symptoms and your test results, there’s one clear cause of your illness—you’re pregnant.”

“That’s funny,” you laughed off, but your doctor remained serious.

“Mrs. Seresin, you’re pregnant. Your urine test came back with clear results. Based on your hormone levels, I’d put you somewhere around six to eight weeks.”

“But my husband got a vasectomy,” you insisted, as if that changed anything. “There’s no way that I’m pregnant.”

“Do you use protection with him?”

“No,” you replied, as if it were obvious.

“Might I suggest making an appointment with your obstetrician?” your doctor spoke softly, causing you to sink into your seat.

~~~~~

Making dinner that night, you swore that you weren’t seeing or thinking straight. Your doctor’s words kept echoing around head and stole any smidge of sanity that you maintained. Your kids were running around causing a ruckus as they always were and Jake still wasn’t home, which only added to your inner turmoil.

You hadn’t told Jake about what the doctor told you. It didn’t feel right breaking that kind of news over the phone or text. And frankly, you were torn between stressing about Jake’s reaction to your news and wanting to have the upper hand so that you could jump out strangle him the second that he got home.

“Daddy’s home!” Charlie called, setting off a chain reaction.

You looked up to see the kids run over to the door to greet Jake. Trying to not get too caught up in how excited the kids were to see their dad, you focused on getting the table set up for dinner. The door swung open and Jake stepped inside, immediately dropping his bag and holding out his arms.

“You’re all here for me?” he teased, pulling your three kids in for a hug and kiss. “Well, aren’t I just the luckiest guy?”

Sniffling, you set down the plates full of food for the kids before turning back for the kitchen to get started on the dishes. Jake usually did them after dinner, but you just needed to do something to steady yourself. Jake released your kids, telling them to go and wash their hands, before turning to you.

“Hey, Mama,” he greeted you, playfully tapping your ass. Wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you away from the dishes, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and then your neck. “How was your day?”

“Oh, I just found out some news,” you replied, seemingly calm.

“What kind of news?” Jake asked curiously.

“The kind that will have you sleeping on the couch tonight,” you stated, a bit more aggravation seeping into your tone.

“What? What’s wrong?” Jake questioned, confused and looking a bit like a kicked puppy with your harsh tone. But that look wasn’t going to do him any favors today.

“You didn’t keep up your end of the deal.”

“Honey, what deal?”

“The one where you promised to not knock me up with another one of your heavy, always late, big-headed children!”

“Wait, you—you’re pregnant?” Jake breathed out, inspecting you closer. “Really?”

“I could easily knee you in the balls right now,” you warned Jake, eyes narrowing. “Maybe I need to since your ‘vasectomy’ clearly didn’t work!”

“What’s with the air quotes?” Jake asked, grabbing your hands. “Honey, you were there.”

“Not in the operating room.”

“Were you supposed to be?”

“Jacob,” you warned him, shooting him a look to shut up.

“Mommy, Liam was trying to eat the soap again,” Charlie complained, causing you to look away from Jake.

“For the love of—Liam, what did I tell you about eating soap?”

“I got this,” Jake told you, turning to walk over to the bathroom. “Just . . . sit down and breathe.”

Jake walked off to grab Liam while you scrubbed away at the dishes again. Charlie sat down at the table, closely followed by Annie and then Jake carried out Liam and sat him in his chair. Turning to see you still erratically scrubbing at the same pot, Jake sighed and approached you. He called your name, but you didn’t look up.

“Honey,” Jake tried again, “let’s just eat and I’m sure that you’re exhausted and probably just want to shower and go to bed.”

“I made an appointment with my obstetrician and with your urologist,” you replied, changing the subject on your husband.

“My urologist?”

“About your ‘vasectomy’,” you stated, adding passive aggressive air quotes again around vasectomy. “It’s in a month.”

“When? I have a bunch of—”

“—I already called your secretary and picked a time that fits into your schedule.” Turning to shoot your husband a look, you wiped off your hands on a towel. “You’re going.”

You stormed past him, leaving no room for argument. Jake winced and watched you walk over to the dinner table with your three kids. And although you looked just about ready to rip his head off and could very possibly read his thoughts, Jake couldn’t help but think about how much better the dining table set would look with six chairs instead of five.

But he wasn’t going to talk about that right now. He wanted to wake up tomorrow morning.

~~~~~

Jake sat on the exam table while you paced around the room with your arms folded across your chest and your purse in the optimal position to swing it and whack your husband. You were already starting to show and your appointment with your obstetrician was the week before. You and the baby were perfectly healthy despite the fact that you were in ‘advanced maternal age.’

Your husband slept on the couch after that appointment too just because you were feeling spiteful about that.

Jake was still dressed in his uniform, on a short break from work to attend this appointment. He met you at the doctor’s office while Dana Fitch invited your kids over for the afternoon. And although he tried to brighten your mood by promising to grab dinner on his way home and maybe something extra, you face was permanently screwed into a frown since you arrived at the office.

A knock on the door caused you to stop pacing and turn as the urologist slowly stepped into the room with a kind smile.

“Mr. and Mrs. Seresin. How are we?”

“Pregnant,” you stated bluntly.

“Yes, I heard. Congratulations,” the urologist replied somewhat awkwardly before taking his seat. “Though I’m assuming you’re wondering how that’s possible.”

“You read my mind,” you responded calmly and not at all sarcastic.

“Well, I should inform you that you’re not the first couple to have a pregnancy after a vasectomy. While it’s not common, it can still happen.”

“And in this case?”

“I’m not entirely sure without any additional tests,” the urologist replied honestly. “And in this case, I think that starting with a sample is the best course of action. Once we have those results, we can discuss whether or not another vasectomy is necessary.”

“Another one?” Jake asked quietly.

But he instantly tried to bite back his words when he caught the way that your head snapped around to shoot him a glare.

“Oh, that must be so inconvenient and painful for you to have to deal with,” you drawled sarcastically, causing Jake to wince.

“Sorry.”

You left the room to let Jake talk with the urologist privately and to check in on the kids. Glancing at the door to make sure that you were in fact gone, the urologist turned to Jake.

“I’m not trying to overstep and cause any trouble but we often ask men in this position if there is any possibility of them wanting a paternity test,” the urologist offered, causing Jake to chuckle.

“Not necessary,” Jake replied, laughing off the absurdity of the urologist’s suggestion. “Just some strong swimmers. That’s all.”

~~~~~

Jake headed out to the parking lot to see you sitting on a bench in the shade of the building, furiously typing away at your phone. Approaching carefully, like he was approaching a wild animal, he slowly sat down beside you.

“They’ll call me back with the results in a few days,” Jake stated, causing you to nod and put away your phone. “Are you okay?”

“I still want to kick you in the balls,” you stated, shooting your husband a look.

“Have I mentioned that I greatly appreciate your restraint?” Jake offered, causing you to scoff. “Honey, I can’t read your mind. Please just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I just . . . I can’t believe we’re those people,” you sighed, holding a hand to your head.

“What do you mean by those people?”

“You know, those people. Those couples who were dumb enough after having three kids to not know what birth control is. Those couples that can’t keep their hands off of each other and just fuck around like a bunch of animals and there’s evidence for all of it! I mean, who sets out planning to have four kids?”

“Baby, who gives a shit about what other people think about us?” Jake replied seriously, grabbing your hand. “It’s none of their business about how many kids we do or don’t have. And I’m not going to apologize to anyone for maintaining a healthy sex life with my wife after three kids. Are you?”

“No,” you huffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Of course not.” Pausing for a moment, you turned back to Jake. “I kind of rubbed it in stupid Gina Denison’s face that we’re still banging a few days ago.”

Gina Denison was one of the moms of Charlie’s friend group. Her husband was a tool and looked like he hated his life every time he showed up. And Gina was always so flirty with Jake, grabbing his arm and complimenting him on everything, that you contemplated kicking your son’s soccer ball straight into her face.

“She did look pretty glum actually,” Jake mused, rubbing your knee.

“Good.”

“Then what’s there to worry about?” Jake asked, causing you to sigh.

“There’s the whole bedroom situation first of all. Unless we want to turn the guest room into the nursery, the kids are going to have to share.”

“We’ll just convert the playroom upstairs. Easy fix. A new coat of paint and moving some things around and we’re fine.”

“And we can only fit three car seats into the back of your truck.”

“Then we’ll take the other car for family outings,” Jake pointed out softly, rubbing your knee again.

“And Liam’s still coming into our bed most nights. What happens when I’m eight months pregnant and there’s no room?”

“I’ll have a talk with him about it,” Jake offered, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“You’ve talked to him about it a hundred times already. What’s changed?”

“I have my ways.”

And by ‘his ways,’ Jake was quietly referring to the fact that when you were heavily pregnant, you snored. Loudly. And now Jake had never told you that when you were heavily pregnant you snored because he wasn’t an idiot. It was like complaining about how uncomfortable the chairs were in the delivery room. Only a fucking selfish pathetic loser complained about that stuff to his pregnant wife.

And he already had a slip up with the whole second vasectomy thing in there and he was trying to quickly recover from that.

Turning to you and gently cupping your cheek so that you turned to him, Jake leaned in and rested her forehead against your own.

“Honey, you know that I’m here, right? You don’t have to go through this alone and you don’t have to hold all of the stress about it. We’re fine. We have the money. We have the space. We have the extra hands if we need babysitters. And for anything else, just tell me about it. I’m here for you and our four babies. Anything you want, you let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. Smiling up at your husband through your eyelashes, you suddenly grew serious. “I want you to get another vasectomy.”

“Yeah, I thought you were going to say that,” Jake sighed, wincing a bit again.

~~~~~

Jake was turning forty this year. The big 4-0. And it only seemed fitting to him that he got to have his four kids by his side for this birthday. But since it happened to fall on a random Tuesday that Jake had to work, you and the kids just put together a small party for him. You cooked him his favorite dinner and the kids gave him the card that they made for him. And then it was time for the cake.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Daddy, Happy Birthday to you!” you and three of your kids sang along.

But little baby Hazel, who was about a year and a half now, was more focused on trying to touch the cake with her finger than singing. Jake smiled and grabbed her hand, shaking it to distract her long enough for you to take a photo.

“Alright, time to blow out the candles!” you called, holding up your phone to take the photo.

“On three,” Jake instructed your kids. “Ready? One . . . two . . . three.”

Your four kids, who were all seated or standing next to Jake, blew out the candles with him. You snapped a few quick photos before putting your phone away. Jake started clapping, causing Hazel to giggle and clap along too. You quickly grabbed the cake and cut it up. Passing around the slices of cake, you smiled and pressed a loving kiss to your husband’s lips.

“Happy Birthday, Jake.”

“Thank you, baby,” he returned, shooting you a wink.

Your kids talked excitedly with Jake about the upcoming weekend. Jake’s parents were flying in for his birthday and you were going to take a short vacation as a family. Jake listened and talked intently with your children before it was time to start the bedtime routines. You and Jake worked together to get Hazel and then Liam and then Annie and Charlie all ready for bed.

And once the kids were all asleep and tucked away for the night, you grabbed Jake by the hand and pulled him into your shared bedroom. In about three seconds flat, you had Jake on his back and straddled him.

“Happy Birthday,” you grinned, pressing a set of needy kisses to his lips.

“Are you my present?” Jake asked coyly, kneading your hips with his hands.

“Sure am, Cowboy,” you replied, pulling off your shirt and tossing it onto the floor. But before you kissed him again, you quickly cursed and got up to lock the door to your bedroom. Smiling apologetically at Jake, you quickly hopped up onto the bed again. “Don’t want to risk the kids walking in on us.”

“It’s my birthday. Tonight, you’re mine. All mine,” Jake agreed, pulling you in for another kiss.

And with assurance that his second vasectomy was successful, you happily started on your birthday gift for him.

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