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trickphotography2 · 21 days ago

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Thank you for reading!!!

Two Lines

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x female!reader

The last thing Jake expected to see first thing in the morning was a pregnancy test in the trash can. And he definitely didn’t expect a debate with his wife about what those two lines meant.

Word count: 1.5K

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It took a lot to shock Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin.

Not only had he made it through a military academy, he was a combat pilot who’d seen action in two war zones and had medals to back up his claim that he was one of the Navy’s best.

But the sight of the pink-capped test in the bathroom trashcan had him choking on his toothbrush.

Adrenaline shot through him, waking him up from the half-stupor he’d been in. It was still early before your alarm went off. But you’d been restless all night, tossing and turning and grumbling about what a stupid idea it was to get your work-mandated flu shot at the same time as your COVID booster.

“Not sure why you did it,” he’d teased, brushing the hair from your eyes. “You always feel like crap after.”

“I know,” you whined, curling closer to him even as your body ached and your stomach clenched. “I just needed to get it out of the way, and since I don’t have any clients tomorrow, I figured I could call out sick if I needed to.”

But that didn’t explain the pregnancy test in the trash.

After just under a year of marriage, you weren’t actively trying to get pregnant, but neither were you trying to prevent it. Both of you were in agreement that you’d be happy to have kids if it happened, but you were also satisfied with it being just the two of you for a while, or even forever.

Your period being late wasn’t uncommon, especially when you were stressed. And with the clinic officially understaffed and you taking on a larger client panel while trying to balance groups and to promote to a leadership spot, Jake knew you were stressed. For the first time, he’d seen you working on the weekend to catch up on session notes and submit consults, making sure your clients were getting connected to the services they needed.

The test was probably just for peace of mind, he reasoned, forcing himself to finish brushing his teeth while keeping his eyes on the trashcan. It wasn’t the first time you’d taken one, but it was the first time you hadn’t told him about it… that he knew of. And if you’d thrown it away, it had to be negative. You’d stumbled back to bed just an hour ago after using the bathroom, waking him as you collapsed back onto the mattress and declaring that you were calling in sick. When he’d pulled you to his chest and kissed your forehead, he’d felt your low-grade fever.

Just like he’d expected. It was why he’d stopped at the Commissary on the way home from work, grabbing bananas, applesauce, and bread to make sure you had something to eat while wallowing on the couch between naps.

Besides, he knew he’d be joining you on Saturday - he had his appointment to stop at the base hospital and get his mandatory annual flu shot, too. While it didn’t take him out like it did with you, he’d never pass up an excuse to have a lazy weekend.

With a forced nonchalance that he didn’t feel, Jake put away his toothbrush before reaching for the pregnancy test. Turning it, he saw two lines.

Two lines.

Jake stared, mouth dropping open. His eyes darted from the lines to the diagram on the side of the window, explaining how to interpret the results, feeling a strange sensation of excitement and terror at the confirmation.

Pregnant.

You were pregnant.

Confusion tempered his joy as he set the test on the counter and took a step back, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes to scrub away any lingering sleep. But when his vision cleared, there was no denying it.

Two dark lines.

Grabbing the door handle, Jake forced himself to take a deep breath before walking back into the bedroom. You’d dozed off again, breathing even and face half-hidden by your sleep mask. He’d bought you the first one as a joke when you’d moved in after a week of grumbling when he turned on the lights to get ready for work. While you both left the house at the same time - him to head to the base, and you to the hospital - he enjoyed taking his time with his morning routine, while you preferred hitting the snooze button as many times as possible before sprinting to get ready and out of the house on time.

You groaned when he sat at your hip, planting one hand on the mattress and reaching up to nudge the mask to your forehead. Refusing to open your eyes, you slapped at his hand, “Lea’me alone,” you grumbled.

“You got something to tell me, sweetheart?” he asked, forcing his voice to be even. While he was excited about the pregnancy, if you’d thrown the test away, you might not be.

“‘M not goin’ to work,” you sighed, rolling onto your side and hugging your pillow tightly.

“I know. Anything else?”

“Love you, have a goo’day.” Your words slurred as you started to drift again. When he said your name, a hint of exasperation creeping into his tone, you sighed and rolled onto your back. Kissing the tips of your fingers, you held them up for him. “I feel gross and don’t wanna kiss you in case it’s not the shot.”

“Is that why you took the pregnancy test?” One eye cracked open, and you saw your husband smiling down at you, a slightly manic gleam in his sea-green eyes.

Shrugging, you yawned, “Kinda. But it was negative.” Jake was silent for a long moment, and you felt him place a hand on your stomach.

“Darlin’… the test wasn’t negative.”

“It was.”

Jake barked a laugh. “There are two lines!”

“I know.”

“Two lines is pregnant!”

“Two lines is negative.”

“No, it’s not,” Jake argued. Huffing, you opened both eyes to glare at him.

“I read UAs twice a week at work, Jacob. I know what a negative result looks like.” As the person in charge of the Contingency Management program in your clinic, you administered and read urine drug screens, knowing with a quick glance if there were prescription or illicit substances in your client’s sample. If the two lines popped up for a negative result for their targeted substance - meaning they’d been abstinent - they earned the opportunity to draw for a prize. A single line meant that they had traces of the substance in their system, providing a positive result.

“Maybe for drug tests, but obviously not for a pregnancy test.”

“Move,” you grumbled, bumping your legs against him to get out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Jake asked.

“To prove you wrong.” Chuckling, he stood and smirked when you threw your sleep mask onto your pillow and brushed away the hand he offered to help you out of bed. The bathroom light was still on, and he followed behind you as you picked up the test he’d left on the sink, holding it in front of his face. “See? Two lines. Negative.”

Taking the test, Jake put his thumb over the Not Pregnant example and held it in front of your eyes. “See? Two lines. Pregnant.” He could only smile as your gaze shifted from glaring at him to squinting down at the test - you hadn’t put your glasses on yet. He watched your eyes widen with shock, darting from the instructions to the result window. Your lips parted, but no words escaped as your eyes rose to meet his again. “Say somethin’, sweetheart.”

“Why the FUCK are my POC cups the only damn thing that has a single line as positive?” you demanded.

That startled a laugh out of him, and Jake tossed the test back onto the counter and tugged you into his arms. Your fingers dug into his back, and he could feel you shaking. “You alright, darlin’?”

You were silent for a long moment before sighing, “Just realizin’ that I’m gonna be triple-checking results for a while. It’s gonna make my appointments run so much longer.”

Chuckling, Jake pulled away just far enough to meet your watery gaze. “What about this one? You gonna triple-check it?”

“I mean, you’ve pretty much done it.” An embarrassed smile flit across your mouth. “Is this where you say ‘I told you so’?”

“Pretty sure this is where I say I love you,” Jake replied, leaning down to kiss you softly. Carefully, he backed you up until your ass hit the counter and lifted you onto it. Your legs wrapped around his hips, arms draped across his shoulders as his hands slid under your shirt to wrap around your waist.

“Love you too. You ready to be a daddy?”

“Hell yeah. You ready to be a mama?” The question made you pause, but the steady confidence your husband exuded made you smile. Even if you weren’t quite ready, he would be there to help you get there.

“Yeah,” you said after a moment.

It would take you a couple of weeks to feel confident interpreting the UA results with a glance again, but you even chuckled when you started telling people about the pregnancy, and Jake boasted that he was the one telling you that you were pregnant.

After all, how many fathers got the chance to do that?

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Author's Note: This little fic has been on my mind since yesterday when I had to fill in last minute for our CM clinic when a clinician called out sick, and had to administer and interpret 2 UAs in 30 minutes, then do brief counseling with the gentlemen before going. I've laughed with my friends before about how our POC cups (the same ones in the graphic above) are one of the only tests where two lines is negative.

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#comment reblog #two lines fic

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trickphotography2 · 21 days ago

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Oh man, I loved seeing your comments and getting to go back and revisit Jake and Cece. This is the story I'm the most proud of, so a huge thank you for reading!!!

'tis the damn season | Epilogue II

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Julie/Cece (OC, no physical description)

Word count: 4K

Synopsis: After six years away from home, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin finally went home to make his parents happy and surprise his family by spending Christmas in Magnolia, Texas. Introducing his 'pregnant' fiancee to his family was a culture clash, with rural Texas meeting California influencer. But when the truth came out, he turned to his high school sweetheart and the one that got away, Julie.

After getting married and having twins, the Jake and Julie are ready to spend Christmas together and relax.

Epilogue | Master List | Ao3

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Epilogue II

Car doors slammed and Cece froze, french fry suspended in mid-air. Shoving the food in her mouth, she slid off the counter and crept toward the bay window in the living room, stepping over discarded toys and books. The sight of her husband leaning into the back seat of his truck usually made her happy, but today, she groaned, eyes fluttering closed with exhaustion. “Shit,” she breathed, forcing her eyes open and rushing back into the kitchen. Another curse fell from her lips when she stepped on a Barbie hair brush, the plastic bristles embedding in her sock. Hopping on one foot, she dislodged it and tossed the offending toy away.

The front door opened, and the usual chaotic sounds of backpacks and jackets hitting the floor rang out. It covered the crinkling of the bag holding her half-eaten lunch and the muffled snap of the walk-in pantry door shutting when she darted inside. Not daring to turn on the light, she moved a few steps inside and collapsed onto the floor. “Take off your shoes!” Jake called.

“Mama! We home!”

“Mama!”

“Mama, where ARE you?”

“Yeah, where is Mama?” Jake asked.

As the three-year-old twins' voices drew closer, Cece hoped the childproof doorknob cover would continue to confuse them. But, knowing her luck, this would be the day her snack-fiend little ones would accomplish the difficult task of squeezing and twisting. As much as she loved her children, it had been a long day - hell, a long week - at the bakery in the lead-up to Christmas, to the point that she couldn't stop to eat.

So yes, hiding in the pantry from her children wasn’t her proudest parenting moment, but damn it, she was hungry and wanted to eat her chicken and fries in relative peace and comfort. Sitting on the floor made her aching feet feel better, though the cold floor was killing her back. It had never quite recovered after her pregnancy - not that a job where she was constantly on her feet made it any better.

A chiming noise startled her, and she swiped the fry grease onto her flour-dusted legging before grabbing her phone. Cece groaned at the picture on the screen: her drink with a prominent fast food logo on the cup. Wanna explain, Mrs. Seresin? So close to dinner?

Don’t rat me out, and I’ll give you a chicken tender

Deal

Cece bit her lip to keep from laughing at the speed of his reply. From the other side of the door, she heard a clap. “I wonder if Mama’s taking a nap?”

“Yeah!” Liam said.

“Naps are for babies,” Abby huffed.

“Naps are for tired parents and growing kiddos,” he countered. “Now, we have to be very quiet in case she is sleeping, alright?”

“Shhhh,” Liam shushed loudly.

“Right. Now, where would Mama take a nap? The bathtub?”

“No!” the twins giggled.

“Really? Mama took naps in the bathtub when we were in college. Wanna go check?” The sound of running was the only response, followed by a cautious, “Be careful - and don’t wake Mama up!”

The pantry opened quickly, allowing her the briefest glimpse of a silhouette before shutting. The sound of callouses on the wall was her only warning before the overhead light turned on. Clapping a hand to her eyes, Cece heard a deep chuckle and peeked through her fingers to see a sight for sore eyes: Jake crouching in front of her, his green eyes crinkling with suppressed laughter. When her hand dropped, he lifted her cup to his mouth, sipping from the straw. “I only slept in the bathtub once.”

The unexpected words made him choke on the soda, and he cleared his throat before setting the cup beside her. “Your 21st was pretty memorable, from what I heard,” he agreed. Carefully lowering his bad knee to the floor, he planted a hand beside her hip and curved the other around her cheek.

Jake still smiled every time he kissed her.

Cece’s eyes fluttered closed, eyelashes dusting the tops of her cheeks. The tension drained from her body when their noses brushed. His forehead pressed against hers, and her hand curled around the back of his neck, tangling in the short hairs. “Hey, Cupcake.”

“Hi,” she breathed.

“Another long day?” Sighing, she nodded, trying - and failing - to open her eyes. “Almost over, at least.”

“Thank god. Remind me to hire more staff next year.”

“Will you listen to me next time or tell me the same thing you did this year?” The thinly veiled ‘told you so’ was motivation enough to open one eye and half-heartedly glare. Jake’s whispered suggestion that she bring on holiday staff had been dismissed whenever he brought it up. Even though the coffee shop/bakery was doing well, increasing payroll - even temporarily - still felt risky when she could handle the work with her usual crew. But the volume of sales and orders kept increasing, and she’d returned to work multiple times after putting the twins to bed to prep for the following day.

Chuckling, he leaned forward to kiss her again. “You’re a meanie-head,” she muttered, using their son’s favorite insult. He laughed against her mouth, pulling away to run his thumb lightly over the dark circles under her eyes.

“Well, this ‘meanie-head’ misses you. You have to go back - ”

“Daddy!”

“Where he go?”

Small hands slapped the pantry door, and they both bit back a groan. “Maybe if we’re really quiet, they’ll go away,” Cece whispered. That hope quickly went out the window when the pounding continued, joined by the spinning of the child lock on the knob and a thud.

“Hey!” Jake snapped. “You better not be kicking my doors.” The pounding stopped immediately. “Go sit on the couch. Daddy’ll be there in a minute.” The twins loudly made their way out of the kitchen as Cece smothered her laughter at their childish grumbling, resting her head on his shoulder. “They get that from you,” he huffed.

“Excuse me! You’re the one who punches trees.”

“Not for years.”

“Thank god. We know how it ended the last time you did.”

“Pretty sure it ended with you kissing me.” Wrapping her fingers in the collar of his flight suit, she kissed him again.

“Who would have thought we’d be hiding in the pantry six years later?”

“Who woulda thought,” he agreed. “Now, I think you owe me a chicken tender, Mrs. Seresin.” Groaning, her head tipped back, and she smiled when Jake’s mouth gravitated to the hinge of her jaw.

“Any chance you’d be willing to exchange a tender for something else, Lieutenant Commander Seresin?”

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Gift wrapping tonight, then maybe…” her fingers skated down his front, toying with the zipper tab.

“Bedtime can’t come soon enough,” he murmured before crushing his lips to hers. She didn’t notice his hand sneaking into the bag at her hip until he pulled away and clamped a fry between his teeth. Reaching behind her, he grabbed two juice boxes from the shelf and pushed to his feet. “Enjoy your contraband. I’ll keep them distracted for a bit.”

With a wink, he walked out of the pantry. Greeted by the squeals of the kids, he quickly closed the door, hiding her from view.

A loud moan burst from her mouth, and Cece turned to stifle it in her arm. Jake chuckled from where he knelt between her thighs, hands closing around her waist when she pushed back against him. “Feel good, baby?” A whimper and nod were her response, and he grinned, planting a fist in the mattress by her shoulder and brushing aside her shower-dampened hair to kiss the back of her neck. Cracking one eye open, she smiled sleepily at him.

“Harder.”

“I feel like I’m gonna break your back if I go harder,” he said, shifting back onto his knees and resting his hands on the swell of his wife’s ass.

“You won’t,” she assured him, wiggling slightly to invite him to return his hands to where she wanted them. After a moment, she felt his thumbs digging into her lower back and moaned again. Pregnancy had destroyed her back, and - contrary to what the doctors said - it wasn’t getting better on its own. After spending a small fortune on massages, Jake started watching videos online and offered to do them.

“It’s the least I can do,” he’d teased before the first one, his touch light and unsure. “Especially after you did all the work to have them both look like me.”

Cece hoped the massages wouldn’t stop after her MRI in January.

Goosebumps erupted on her skin when his fingers grazed the curve of her breast as his hands moved higher, thumbs running parallel to her spine. The bed dipped as he moved to her side, and Cece lifted her head to rest on her folded arms. Through half-lidded eyes, she watched him work; his brows furrowed with concentration as he soothed her aching muscles. As much as she loved the attention from her husband, it was bittersweet. She knew he felt some misplaced sense of guilt over her body not bouncing back after delivering the twins, and he was well aware of her reluctance to discuss having any more kids until they figured out what was wrong. Living off of over-the-counter painkillers and dealing with tingling in her arms and fingers wasn’t fun, and he hated thinking about the night her pain had flared up so badly that he’d had to carry her into the emergency room while Phoenix and Rooster sat with the twins.

Cece hated that it sometimes felt like she was edging closer to eighty than in her thirties and that she couldn’t play with her kids as much as she wanted to without feeling it the next day. But not a single part of her would have changed it if it meant being without Abigail and Liam. She loved talking to them about their day at ‘school’ - the daycare on base that they were fortunate enough to get spots in - and everything they learned that day. Kneeling by the tub and watching the epic stories they created with their toys. The weight of them crawling into their bed after waking up in the middle of the night, fingers tangling in her hair, and the odd elbow, knee, or foot nudging her, echoing their movements when she’d carried them.

But most of all, Cece loved seeing Jake as a father. Having witnessed the Seresin men parent for years, it shouldn’t have been surprising that he took to it like a duck to water. He had been there for every midnight feeding, helping to juggle the babies on the nursing pillow and cooing as they burped or spit up. There was no judgment when she couldn’t hold them when it came time for shots, and she fell in love with him just a little more when she saw the tears gleaming in Jake’s eyes as their children wailed after every injection. The way he sought her out after having to mete out punishment, curling up in her lap and regretting making their little lips wobble and tears spill down their cheeks as he dissected every word made her want to laugh and cry and hold him.

“Will’s the same way with the boys,” Ally had once told her. “He hates punishing them and thinks they’ll hate him forever, no matter how many times I tell him they’ll forget about the time out or getting sent to bed without dessert. He thinks he’s traumatizing them.”

And Abigail… she was a force to be reckoned with. Older by fourteen minutes, she was well aware of her status as the firstborn and had inherited generations of Seresin bull-headedness. When Cece had remarked on this to her mother-in-law, Mama Seresin had only laughed. “Your mama and daddy come from a long line of stubborn folks, too, Julie. My granddaughter comes by it honest from her grandparents AND her parents.”

Liam, though… Liam was her sweet boy, who loved to cuddle with her. A true mama’s boy, he broke his daddy’s heart every time he pushed out of his arms and reached for her. On nights she worked late, Cece would inevitably get a call from her son, tears on his face as he begged her to come home. It bothered Jake how quickly the switch would flip - if she wasn’t home, Liam was fine. But when it came time for bed, or she was in sight, Liam wanted nothing to do with his father. Will had assured him that it was expected - Tyler had gone through the same thing, and Kevin was in the same stage - but it was cold comfort.

“Keep goin’, and I’m gonna fall asleep,” Cece yawned. Jake chuckled, pulling away when she rolled onto her side. Lifting a heavy arm, she slung it over his shoulders and tugged him down. His lips were soft as he settled between her thighs, and she pushed down his shorts. Jake’s cock sprung free, and she took him in hand. He grunted, smirking against her mouth.

“Definitely worth a chicken tender.” That startled a laugh out of her, which choked off when he thrust into her. “Miss you, baby.”

“Holiday rush is almost over,” she panted as he rocked against her.

Afterward, she snuck into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and glasses while Jake grabbed the wrapping paper and gifts. And, as they wrapped presents, they caught up on each other’s day and traded kisses. Tipsy and tired, she giggled while pulling off her shirt and pressing two bows to her nipples, posing when her husband grabbed his phone and snapped a picture.

Thankfully, everything was hidden away when little hands opened the bedroom door. Jake lifted the twins into bed when Abby poked him awake, forfeiting his time to spoon with his wife. Instead, he cuddled his daughter to his chest as Liam starfished over his mother, his towhead tucked under her chin and fingers tangling in her shirt.

“Squeeze gently,” Cece cautioned, then bit her lip when a glob of green frosting burst out of the piping bag.

“Beautiful,” Jake snickered. Liam beamed at his dad before setting aside the bag and rearranging the frosting with his finger.

“Definitely a cookie for Santa,” she said, watching Jake’s smile drop just a fraction. He was responsible for eating Santa’s cookies. Eating anything sweet after taste-testing her products for weeks turned Cece’s stomach.

“Daddy, look!” Abby said before dumping almost an entire container of sprinkles onto her cookie. Thankfully, the paper plate caught most of them, but the rest rained down on the table, bouncing and hitting the floor.

“Looks like another Santa cookie!” Shooting his wife a look, Jake started to sweep up the sprinkles from the table while Cece grabbed the broom. Having the kids decorate cookies on Christmas Eve was always more fun in theory than practice.

After dictating letters to Santa and a spectacular sea battle in the bathtub that left all the Seresins soaked, it was bedtime. The twins shared a room, and Liam pulled Cece into his bed while Abby and Jake grabbed three books. The twin bed was a tight squeeze for the four of them, and Jake had to keep a foot on the floor to keep from falling out.

The twins were asleep by the end of the Polar Express, and he moved Abby to her bed while Cece carefully extracted herself from Liam’s grasp. Together, they tiptoed out of the room, splitting off at the kitchen. “What time do you want to put the stuff out?” Jake asked, walking into the living room and offering her a glass of water. Lying on his stomach with his head resting on her chest, he tucked his head under her chin, shivering with pleasure when Cece’s fingers carded in his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp. One arm dangled from the side of the couch while the other loosely wrapped around her, eyes drifting closed.

“Maybe an hour? That way, they’re really asleep and before they come into our room.”

“You think we’ll ever get our bed back to ourselves?”

“Not for a few years,” she smirked.

He was silent for a long moment, then sighed. “‘M gonna miss this when I deploy.”

“Me too.” The notice had hit his inbox a few weeks ago, and he’d told her as soon as the kids were in bed. While he’d gone on a few short missions since their birth, this would be the first time he would be gone for an extended period. “It’s only three months.”

“A long three months.”

“It’s what? A couple weeks longer than a semester?” She asked, lifting a shoulder. “We’ve done longer than that.”

“What if the kids forget about me?” His eyes shot open when Cece flicked the tip of his nose.

“Please. They won’t forget about you because you’re away for a few months.” Catching her hand, he ran his thumb along her wedding band as her nails lightly scratched the back of his neck.

“They might.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“They’re little, and their memories aren’t that good.”

“Three months isn’t enough time to erase three years. Your kids aren’t going to forget you.”

“Are you gonna be okay?” That made her pause for a heartbeat.

“I’ll miss you.”

“You’re gonna be outnumbered.”

“It’ll be easier than when they were both in diapers.”

“I’m thinking of dropping my papers.” Cece’s movements froze as she blinked down at the crown of his head, eyebrows nearly reaching her hair. “I just… I don’t want to lose my family to the Navy. Not again.”

Shaking off his hold, her palm rasped on his stubble as she encouraged him to meet her soft gaze. Worry creased his brow, the Christmas tree lights twinkling in his solemn green eyes. “You won’t, Farm Boy. I promise you - Abby, Liam, and I will be here waiting for you to come home.”

“I worry - ”

“I know you do,” she cut him off. “And I love you for it. But we’ll be okay. Let’s… let’s talk about dropping your papers in the New Year if you’re really thinking about it.”

“I am.”

“Alright. I just…” her teeth dug into her lower lip momentarily before clearing her throat. “I don’t want you makin’ a hasty decision after all of the work you put in without giving us a chance to prove that we can do it.” When he opened his mouth to reply, Cece placed her finger over his lips. “The New Year.”

Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, he pushed onto his hands and kissed her, licking into her mouth. Time seemed to slow as they made out on the couch like teenagers, the couch feeling just slightly larger than his truck cab in high school.

And, after putting the presents under the tree and stuffing the stockings, Jake flipped the lock on their bedroom door after pressing his wife against it, fingers delving into her panties to find her wet.

Not even an hour later, small hands hitting wood woke them, accompanied by sleepy cries for Mama. Pausing only long enough to pull on his boxers and toss Cece her clothes, he crossed the room and unlocked the door. The twins stumbled in, Abby raising her arms for him to lift her while Liam rubbed his eyes and ambled toward his mother’s outstretched arms. “C’mere baby,” Cece cooed.

“Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” the kids screeched as the call connected, and they caught sight of their grandparents. Nursing her second cup of coffee and nibbling on another orange cranberry scone, Cece smiled at her in-laws. After saying their hellos, the grandparents focused on their grandchildren, making appreciative noises at everything they tried to share while talking over one another.

Setting aside his second plate of French toast casserole, Jake acted as a cameraman as Liam showed off his new dinosaurs and Hot Wheels, and Abby her baby dolls and dress-up clothes.

Thankfully, the only knitted baby blanket this year had been addressed to Abby for her toys.

Will and Ally were at the main house, and Jake and Cece caught sight of them as the phone was passed around. Ty and Kev took their turn showing off their presents, and the four cousins talked over one another.

But then Bill took the phone and cleared his throat. “Your Granny and I got you kids a present. I need you to put on your boots and jacket so we can go see it.”

“What’d you get, Pops?” Jake asked, shooting a look at his wife.

“Just something for them to enjoy whenever y’all come out. Keep ‘em distracted while we paint the house.” The bi-annual house painting was scheduled for the summer, not too long after Jake was to get home from the deployment. They’d already decided to take time off and drive home on a road trip, partly to allow themselves to explore and partly to save on the expense of flying the four out and renting a car.

Once the family was bundled up and the twins settled in their parents' laps, Bill led them outside to the barn. Jake bit his tongue, having a pretty good idea of the gift. The camera shook as Bill told his grandsons to stay back before passing it off to Mama Seresin.

And there, standing in the last stall with its head peeking out, was a spotted Appaloosa. She stuck out on a farm that mainly bred Quarterhorses and American Paints. “Horsie!” Abby squealed, bouncing in Jake’s lap as he ran a hand down his face.

“Pops.”

“You got them a horse?” Will huffed.

“She’s beautiful!” Ally sighed.

“Broken for riding already,” Bill said proudly, striding closer and petting her forelock. “Her last owners said she loved kids and taught theirs how to ride.” Ty and Kevin got closer, each holding one of Will’s hands.

“How big is she?” Cece asked.

“Just under 15 hands,” Mama Seresin answered. “And sweet as can be. Don’t worry, Julie - the twins will be in good hands with her.”

And they were. When summer came, the Seresin grandchildren took turns riding Nutmeg. Abby and Liam were only slightly behind their cousins in riding lessons and would have stayed in the barn all day if allowed.

So when Jake saddled up two horses, handing Abby up to Cece, and settled his son in front of him, the twins held tight to the saddle horns and grinned excitedly. After months of physical therapy, Cece was feeling better than ever with her back pain - multiple bulging disks right where her uterus had pulled on her spine - finally being addressed. “Ready?” he asked, looking back at his wife, who nodded and adjusted Abby’s little cowgirl hat on her head. The ride across the ranch was slower; both parents worried about kids bouncing out of saddles, but it was still enjoyable. Liam, who had clung to Jake after he got home, asked a million questions as they rode.

Under his favorite tree on the property, Cece laid out a picnic she’d packed while Jake tumbled in the high grass with the kids. When called to eat, he sat beside his wife and listened to her story about running into Betty Roberts in the grocery store. He was positive that there was some new story about them running through Magnolia. There were plans to have dinner with Lucy and her family and to stop by the firehouse to introduce the kids to some of Brian’s friends.

And, of course, they needed to visit her parents.

On their last night in Magnolia, they sat on the front porch swing, watching the twins chase fireflies with their cousins. With his eyes drooping closed and his wife’s head resting on his shoulder, he sighed contentedly.

“Hmm?” Cece hummed.

“Nothin’,” Jake replied. “Just thinkin’ about how happy I am to be home.”

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Author's Note: I couldn't *not* revisit Jake and Julie at Christmas. I credit @tgmreader for encouraging me to continue writing these two. I had fun going back through the fic and pulling out reminders of my favorite scenes (such as Jake being comforted by Cece on the couch, and having Liam sleep the same way).

I definitely pulled the back pain part from my friend's experience with it after having her twins.

Happy (belated) Christmas to those who celebrate!

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#comment reblog #'tis the damn season fic

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trickphotography2 · 1 month ago

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The boyfriend said he’d only watch TGM one time after I clocked Warlock in the new Mission Impossible.

Saying that it was a comfort movie was probably underselling it but at least he is now aware I watch it regularly 😅

#personal

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trickphotography2 · 1 month ago

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Military life isn't all rainbows and butterflies! It's hard work for all parties - the military member, their significant other, the kids, and extended family. I really wanted to do a realistic story (with a bit of movie magic) to show that.

Jake definitely learned from his first marriage what not to do and brought those lessons into his relationship with Darlin'.

And godfather Javy is my favorite!

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 22

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 5.2k

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

18+, minors DNI

Chapter 21 | Series Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 22

“Point those toes!” Ash reminded. You did as she said and heard the click of a shutter. “Alright, for the next one, I’m gonna have you bring your left hand up so your fingers are lightly on your collarbone like this - perfect.” She moved closer, rearranging the hair on your face and smiling. “And arch your back for me a little bit more, but only if it’s comfortable.”

Your lower back twinged, but you followed the instructions and were rewarded with multiple clicks of the shutter. “Gorgeous. Just a few more, and then we’ll move to the bed.”

“Okay,” you said, having learned not to nod after she had to readjust your position the first few times.

“Now I’m gonna have you trail your fingers down and rest them on your bump. Just like that!” Her enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself relaxing slightly.

The boudoir photoshoot was a last-minute decision. At the beach, you’d seen a studio advertising maternity pictures, and it had stuck in your mind as you walked along the shore. With the waves crashing over your feet, you’d looked at the list of negative thoughts about yourself that Helen had you write down and fixated on one: Jake isn’t going to find me attractive. As much as your husband assured you that he thought you were sexy, it was hard to feel that way when your body didn’t feel like your own anymore.

So, only half-heartedly, you’d contacted Ash to see if she had any openings. As fate would have it, one of her clients had gone into labor early, opening up a spot on her books that you took before thinking too hard about it. At 37 weeks pregnant, you didn’t think the pictures would turn out well, but if nothing else, they could serve as a Valentine’s Day gift for your husband.

You stewed over your decision the entire way back to Lemoore, debating calling and canceling the appointment. Or asking to do a normal maternity one, where you could hide behind a flowy dress and put the attention on Sloane. Once home, you unpacked your weekend bag and stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a long time. Your eyes traveled over your hair, longer than you usually kept it, but going to the salon seemed like a hassle. The dark circles weren’t as prominent under your eyes, but you still looked tired. Stripping off your shirt and bra, you traced the stretchmarks marring your skin and the blue veins on your chest, weighed your heavier breasts, and studied your darker nipples. Forcing yourself not to fixate on your stomach, you tugged off your leggings and panties. Your legs and ankles were swollen from sitting so long, and you’d long stopped shaving when it became difficult to bend.

Jake isn’t going to find me attractive.

The longer you studied your appearance, the more the thought echoed in your head. When it got too loud, you reached for your phone and quickly typed a message.

Can you talk?

The message was quickly marked read, and the phone vibrated in your hand. “Everything okay?” You could hear the tension in Jake’s voice and felt a momentary wave of frustration with yourself for doing that to him. It was almost time for him to go on shift, and you were -

“Yeah,” you forced yourself to say, covering your eyes. “Just… I’m in my head about something.” During your fight the night before, you’d promised to call him if it happened.

“Hang on - gimme a second.” The call sounded muffled momentarily, and you heard him talking to someone before he was back. “I’ve just got a few minutes before I need to get to the bay. What’s on your mind, Mama?”

“It’s stupid.” You could feel his disappointment through the open line.

“Whatever it is, it’s not. Talk to me.”

“I haven’t shaved or waxed my legs in weeks. Or, you know, done any upkeep.” Jake let out a confused huff.

“Alright?”

“And my hair - on my head - is so freaking long. I hate it. It’s so heavy and annoying.”

“Okay.”

“I’m mad at myself for not taking care of my appearance, even though I know it shouldn’t matter. And I know… I know you’re gonna say that you love me and you think I’m sexy no matter what, but we haven’t seen each other for months, and I want to look good for you when you come home, and I just know that’s not gonna happen and - ”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he interrupted your rambling. “Darlin’ - you know how I feel about how you look.”

“I know. Logic brain knows that, but emotion brain just doesn’t understand it,” you whined.

“What’d Helen say to do?”

“Challenge the thought with evidence, and replace it with a realistic alternative.” Your tone sounded petulant to your own ears, and you heard Jake chuckle.

“Alright, so what’s goin’ through your head right now?”

“How much I hate this.” When he grunted, you sighed. “You’re gonna be grossed out by me when you come home. I always imagined your homecoming from our first big deployment differently. Sexy lingerie, maybe a trip out of town… different. And you’re gonna be disappointed because it’s not gonna be like when you got home from Vegas or San Diego.” You could only describe the sound he let out as a growl.

“Evidence?” he managed to grind out between his teeth.

“I look different than before you left. I put in a lot of work before I came out to see you, and I haven’t felt up to doing it this time. I’m gonna be post-partum when you get home, and I’ll probably look even more run down than I do now.”

“What about against?”

“You…” The evidence against the thought was more challenging to articulate. “I don’t know.”

“You sure as hell do, darlin’.” Jake’s tone left no room for disagreement. “You at home, darlin’?” When you hummed a yes, he cleared his throat. “I want you to go to our bathroom and look at yourself.”

“Already doing that,” you sighed, a weary smile tugging at your lips. “Hence the thoughts.”

“Good. Now prove to me you’ve been listening when I talk to you.” When you hesitated, he hissed your name.

“You think I’m beautiful.” The words tasted wrong on your tongue.

“So fuckin’ beautiful.”

“And sexy.”

“Damn straight.”

“You weren’t turned off by how I looked when we saw each other a few months ago.” He grunted. “And you seemed to like the pictures I sent you last night.”

“Fuckin’ love ‘em,” he corrected before clearing his throat. “You remember what I told you when I bent you over the sink?”

Stepping closer to the vanity, you ran your fingers over the spot, thighs clenching at the memory of his hand between your shoulders and that cowboy hat on his head. “That you wanted to keep me in bed, moaning your name.” But it was his moan that echoed over the line.

“Pretty sure I said somethin’ about my pretty little wife havin’ my baby bein’ the sexiest woman ever.”

“I’m definitely not little anymore,” you sighed, rubbing a hand over your stomach.

“Even better. You’re makin’ me hard before duty, thinkin’ about you, Mama.”

“Better or worse that I’m naked right now?”

“Fuck,” he hissed, and you heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper. “Don’t have a lotta time, but goddamn - talk to me.”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Bout ‘ta fuck my fist with your voice in my ears,” Jake replied. “Wish it was you.”

“My hand? Or something else?”

“Anything. Hand, mouth, pussy, tits - just wanna touch you.” Your cheeks flushed at his groan, and you cupped your breast, thumbing your nipple. An image of you on your knees, Jake thrusting between your breasts, flashed in your mind. It wasn’t something you’d done before, and the thought made your breath hitch. “Gonna touch yourself with me, darlin’?”

“Wanna see you.”

“Don’t have time,” Jake grunted. “What‘re you doin’? Talk to me.”

“Touching my breasts,” you breathed. “They’re starting to get sore again. And they feel like they’re getting even bigger.”

Jake breathed your name. “Gonna walk around the house topless again? Not there to kiss ‘em better this time.”

Chuckling, you pinched your nipple, inhaling sharply and imagining it was his teeth. “Soon.”

“Not soon enough. You still in the bathroom?” When you hummed an affirmative, he sighed. “Look at yourself, darlin’. So fuckin’ sexy. Wanna bend you over the sink again and fuck you until you understand how goddamn much I love how you look. But you know what I’d do first?”

“What?”

“Get on my knees, put your leg over my shoulder, and fuck you with my tongue.” You blew out a shaky breath, recalling the feel of your fingers in his hair as he devoured you. “You touchin’ my pussy yet, darlin’?”

“No.” His chuckle was low and dangerous.

“Put me on speaker and set the phone on the sink.” Wordlessly, you did as he said, then cleared your throat. “Done?” When you made a noise, he chuckled again. “Good girl. Now, get your fingers nice and wet for me.” Looking away from your reflection, you sucked on your fingers. “Want you to pinch your nipples while touching your clit. Understood?”

“Yes, Lieutenant Commander,” you smirked, hearing his answering moan.

“Oh fuck.” It was your turn to chuckle.

“Like that, Lieutenant Commander Seresin?”

“Playin’ dirty, Mrs. Seresin.” You inhaled sharply as you circled your clit. “Fuck I miss you. Not just fucking you. Miss holding you. Kissing you.” Not feeling particularly turned on, you moved your hand, bracing yourself on the sink.

“I miss you, too,” you said. “Miss your voice first thing in the morning when you’re not quite awake. Cuddling on the couch. And when you wake me up, asking if you can play.” Jake moaned, and you cupped your aching breasts. “Your fingers always feel so much better than mine when you touch me.”

“Love when you ride my hand. An’ my face.”

That made you chuckle, and you tapped your phone to navigate to a picture of him you’d taken at your old apartment. He’d sprawled on your couch, arms outstretched toward you with an exaggerated pout on his lips. If you tried hard enough, you could almost imagine the heat of him as he held you. The scratch of his stubble on your forehead as he kissed you there. You could practically feel his skin under your fingertips as you dragged them from his shoulder down his arm, drawing nonsensical shapes. “I miss touching you,” you sighed.

“Fuck, baby,” Jake panted. “I can’t wait.” Straightening, you plucked the nearly empty bottle of his cologne from the sink and retreated to the bed. Spritzing it onto his pillow, you set the phone on it and inhaled deeply.

“I love you, husband.”

Jake groaned a familiar groan, and you smiled while closing your eyes, picturing him spilling over his hand. “Love you, darlin’.”

“God. Damn,” Ash grinned, and you felt your face flush as she snapped more pictures. “I’m gonna just move these a little -” you felt her reach between your breasts to rearrange Jake’s dog tags, the metal cool on your skin “- and pull this back a bit.” She shifted the collar of his blue jacket to just cover your nipple before fiddling with it to make the ribbon bar lie flat. Keeping your eyes closed, you took a deep breath and twirled your engagement ring around your fingers. Sloane squirmed, and it took all your willpower not to move your hand from where Ash had posed it over your head, resting on the arm of the chaise lounge. A small smile tugged at your lips when you pictured Jake’s hands on your stomach, recalling how he would chase the smallest twitch your daughter made. His chuckle, warm in your ear, when he felt her foot thump against his palm. His cheek against your skin as he talked to her while you ran your fingers through his hair.

Only a few more weeks until he would be home.

Until you would meet your daughter.

After guiding you through another series of poses, including another outfit change that consisted of panties and gauzy material that Ash draped around you as you held it against your breasts, you were done. Still feeling a bit foolish, you dressed in your leggings and Jake’s overstretched Naval Academy sweatshirt. Ash was uploading the pictures to her computer when you came out of the dressing room. Her eyes drifted over you for a moment before she grinned. “As soon as these finish uploading, I want to get a couple of you in that.”

“This?” you frowned.

“Yeah. You look comfortable and sexy. It won’t take too long.” Reluctantly, you let her lead you back to the set and helped you get comfortable against the bed headboard. She took photos of you playing with your hair, cradling your stomach, and resting a coffee cup on your belly, which made you grin while remembering Jake’s ban on anything but water in bed. But her favorite was when she had you sit on the edge, legs outstretched with the sweater tucked under your breasts, leggings rolled down under your belly, with NAVY prominent across your chest.

“Jake’s gonna love that one,” you smirked when she showed it to you.

“I hope so! I’ll get these edited and over to you in the next three weeks.” After thanking her, you left the shop and headed to the beach for a quick walk along the water.

For the first time in ages, you somewhat felt like yourself. You’d gotten your hair cut and scheduled a wax for the photoshoot. The feeling of clean sheets on your bare legs after visiting the esthetician had been glorious, although the bikini wax had been more painful than you remembered. Ash’s partner had done your hair and makeup for the day before leaving, allowing you privacy in the studio. Feeling slightly emboldened, you snapped a selfie of yourself and sent it to Jake.

Twenty minutes later, the phone vibrated and Jake’s face flashed on the screen. “Hey!” you grinned while answering, the wind whipping across the microphone and muffling your words.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said. You pressed a hand to your ear and held the phone tightly. “You still at the beach?”

“Yeah, about to go get lunch, then head home.”

“Well, get something good to celebrate.”

“Why’s that?” you asked.

“Ten-day window approved - there’s a possibility I’ll be home before Valentine’s Day.”

Three weeks.

Before your due date.

“WHAT?!” you shrieked. Jake’s laugh was warm, and you waddled quickly up the beach toward your car to try to hear better. The sand made you feel slightly off balance, but you hurried and hoped you wouldn’t fall.

“It’s just a possibility, but there’s a chance I’ll make it home in time to take you to the hospital and meet our little girl.” You burst into tears and clapped a hand to your mouth. “Hey - hey, darlin’, it’s alright. This is a good thing.”

“I’m j-just s-so relieved,” you sobbed. As you neared the parking lot, you tugged the car keys from your pocket and unlocked the car, collapsing into the driver’s seat.

“Me too, Mama, me too. D’ya…” Jake paused to clear his throat. “I, uh, heard that first babies usually come late. Do you think Sloane will? Maybe give me some extra time to make sure I’m there?”

Your daughter’s foot was in your ribs, making it somewhat hard to breathe, so you forced yourself to take a few deep breaths before responding. “I-I have an appointment with Dr. Shearer in a few days, and she said she’d check if I’m dilated at that point.”

“Keeping my fingers crossed that you aren’t.”

“M-me too. O-only because I love you.”

“Yeah? Only because you love me?” he teased.

“Yup,” you laughed. “I’m over being pregnant.”

He sighed, and your fingers itched to touch him. “I know, darlin’. Just hold on a little bit longer for me.”

“I don’t think that little girl is coming anytime soon,” Dr. Shearer said, pushing away from the exam table and removing her gloves. “You’re not dilated, only 10% effaced, and still carrying high.”

“Thank god,” you breathed, resting a hand on your belly. The doctor laughed, typing something on her laptop.

“Most moms at this stage can’t wait for it to be over.”

“I am so ready to be done,” you said, a hint of a whine sneaking into your tone, “but the longer she waits, the happier Jake will be. He asked her to stay put as long as possible before he left, and when I went out to visit. And…” The part of you that grew up with OPSEC - operations security - and the reminders that went out anytime a ship was deployed, warred with the need to tell your doctor. If the homecoming date leaked, the Navy would change it to ensure everyone was safe, usually pushing it out further. You’d joined the Family Readiness Group social media page for the Carl Vinson to keep tabs on the carrier’s updates, and the page was filled with OPSEC reminders.

“And?”

Closing your eyes, you blew out a breath, reasoning that you weren’t giving an exact date. The memory of your husband’s voice, the hope and love and anxiety, made tears leak from the corner of your eyes. “And there’s a chance Jake will make it home.”

“What? That’s amazing!”

“We don’t have an exact date,” you said, trying to push down the wave of hope you refused to let drag you under. With your luck, their homecoming would be at the end of the 10-day window. Getting your hopes up felt dangerous, like tempting fate to prove you wrong. “But there’s a chance.”

Dr. Shearer chuckled, turning to face her computer again. “Well, baby Seresin is a safe size to stay in there for a bit longer.”

“I’m not sure how much bigger she can get and still have space.” You felt Sloane nudge your hand, as though knowing you were talking about her. You’d been feeling strange tension at the top of your stomach and around your belly button for days, and shooting pain down your legs as your ligaments loosened further.

“Space is getting a bit tight, but she’s still got room to grow and move.” Dr. Shearer moved to your side and helped you sit up. “How’ve things been at home?”

“Good. I feel like the meds are working, and I’ve been meeting with Helen once a week.”

“That’s good! And do you have your plan for when this one decides to come?”

“Yeah - Javy’s already mapped out the fastest routes from the house to the hospital. Our friends are talking about rotating someone sleeping at the house in case I go into labor overnight, but I told them it wasn’t necessary.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a supportive group of friends.” As much as you appreciated the offer, it was overwhelming. It had also caused a big argument, with Jake siding with everyone else until you put your foot down. Having someone stay with you felt like being under observation. Just because you were a couple weeks from having the baby didn’t mean you needed to be under constant supervision, and your friends didn’t have to uproot their lives.

Grimacing, you asked the question Jake had requested. “Do you think I need someone to stay with me?”

“Medically speaking, you and this little girl are both in good shape. And unless something drastically changes in the next few days, I don’t think you’ll be in active labor anytime soon. It wouldn’t surprise me if you start having some contractions, but that’s normal. So if you have a plan, a back-up plan, your bag is ready to come to the hospital, and you agree to call if anything comes up that you’re unsure about… Moms stay home by themselves all the time.”

“Thank god,” you groaned. “I love our friends, but I don’t want people in my house all the time.” Dr. Shearer laughed.

“Understandable. Have you given any thought to when you’re going to start your maternity leave?”

“I want to wait. I still have things to wrap up and… I can’t sit at home alone, just waiting.”

The doctor gave you a knowing look. “I’m sure you’re tired. Are you sure you don’t want to spend these last few weeks relaxing?” Of course, she was right. It was almost impossible to get a full night’s sleep with how difficult it was to breathe, and something always woke you. Getting back to sleep was an exercise in futility, so you cleaned the house at all hours of the night.

Now, knowing that Sloane and Jake would arrive soon, you needed to scrub the house from top to bottom. Between birthing classes and work, you knew that housework had fallen to the wayside. Jake wouldn’t blame you for not thoroughly cleaning the house, you told yourself when sitting on the couch after work, but your father-in-law's words had woken you in the middle of the night and refused to stop echoing in your head.

A man should be able to leave on deployment and know that his woman’s takin’ care of his home.

Jake prided himself on keeping his home clean. While you’d successfully broken him of hospital corners when making the bed, he made sure the house was picked up every night and spent a few hours on the weekend cleaning. With him gone, you’d defaulted back to your natural state of cleaning on the weekend and letting chores pile up during the week. The idea of him coming home to realize you hadn’t deep-cleaned the bathroom or dusted the blinds in a few months made you flush with embarrassment. So you’d made a list of things to do and slowly chipped away at them in the midnight hours. And, as much as you despised cleaning the baseboards, not only for the task but the difficulty of getting up from the floor, it was satisfying to see the house return to normal.

So between work, not sleeping, and cleaning, you were exhausted. But not to the point of just sitting around the house. You still loved walking the flight line and feeling Sloane wiggle her approval when the jets flew. If the Daggers set eyes on you at work - and they usually did, swinging by to have lunch or chat - you could usually have a night at the house alone. Which was perfect, because as soon as you got home, your clothes came off. Everything felt uncomfortable, and your feet hurt, so walking around the house in your underwear was a daily experience.

“I’m fine,” you assured Dr. Shearer. “I’m taking it easy. Besides, Jake’ll have 12 weeks of paternity leave, too, and we want to spend as much of it together as possible.”

“Just make sure you don’t push yourself too hard. And I’m keeping all my fingers crossed that he’ll be here when the time comes.”

The next few weeks passed in a haze, punctuated by anxious visits with the doctor. Jake called daily, and you felt a thrill every time the time difference decreased - he was getting closer to home.

The homecoming date had been set for two days after Valentine’s Day. The news had been hard, and you knew your husband hated delivering it after getting your hopes up. Once you’d hung up the phone, you sat in the living room and stroked your stomach. “Sloane, I know your daddy asked you to stay in there, and I’m gonna ask you to do the same. I know we’re both uncomfortable, but we can hang on for a little longer, alright?”

The saving grace was that your appointments with Dr. Shearer continued to go well. You had a minor panic attack when she told you that you were 2 centimeters dilated, but she quickly talked you down and reminded you that it didn’t mean that you would be delivering anytime soon. That you’d only progressed an additional centimeter at the next appointment helped.

With Jake’s prodding, you officially started maternity leave the week of your due date. As much as you wanted to save the time to spend with Sloane once she arrived, it was getting harder for you to get to work. “I’ll be home in a few days,” he promised. “Once I’ve done my inprocessing, we’ll have the time together before our little girl gets here.”

That was what got you through the week. Sleeping in on that first day was glorious, but you woke up with a backache and ended up lying on the couch with your pregnancy pillow because your pelvis hurt so much. Between naps and trash television, you cleaned the house and ran errands. While shopping at the Commissary, you had to pause in the aisle and grip the cart handle when a cramp hit you. Thankfully, it didn’t last long and didn’t happen again until you were sitting in Jake’s truck as you ran it through the car wash.

When Ash sent you the boudoir pictures, you stared at them in shock. That couldn’t be you. The woman in the photographs was gorgeous, a teasing smile curving her lips. Ash had to have put a lot of work into editing them. The longer you flipped through the proofs, the more you felt like crying. Finally, you put the laptop away rather than send in your selection for her to print. If you let Jake see them, he would pick which ones he wanted.

On Valentine’s Day, Jake surprised you with flowers. The red and white roses sat on the kitchen counter, and you ran your fingers over the petals throughout the day while rereading the card.

Happy Valentine’s Day, darling. Only a few more days until I’m home, and hopefully not much longer until our daughter arrives. Meeting you on the flight line was the best thing that ever happened to me. Your man in a bag, conflict of interest, and loving husband - Jake

You took the card with you into the bathroom as you sank into the tub, hoping the lukewarm water would help with the pain you felt in your groin and back. When Jake video called, the tub had already cooled and been refilled a few times. “Hey, darlin’,” he grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Nope,” you sighed, shifting to try and get comfortable. “Just relaxing in the tub. Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy. I love my flowers.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mama. I couldn’t find any blue ones from our wedding, so I thought roses would do.”

“You thought right - they’re gorgeous. Only thing better would have been you dropping them off instead of the delivery guy.”

“I know. I’ll be home soon.”

“I’m counting the hours, Lieutenant.”

“You and me both, Mrs. Seresin. Are you sure you want to meet me on the flight line? I can have Javy drive me home.”

“Not happening. I want to see you as soon as you land. Besides, your daughter loves the flight line, and I’m sure she’ll be moving up a - ” Your breath caught as a cramp hit hard. Your free hand shot to your stomach, feeling the tightness under your skin.

“Darlin’?” Worry flashed across Jake’s face, and you dangled the phone over the side of the tub, unable to keep the grimace of pain from your expression. He called your name, and you forced yourself to breathe through it before raising the phone back up.

“S-sorry.”

“Don’t - are you alright? What was that?” he demanded.

“Nothing. Just a cramp. I’ve been having them off and on for the last few days.”

Jake’s brows furrowed, and he tilted his head. “A cramp or a contraction?”

“A cramp,” you said quickly. “I’m not having contractions.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” His face said he didn’t believe you, so you changed the subject. “Are you all packed?”

“Yup. Ready to toss everything in my travel pod and get the hell off the carrier.” At his prodding, he shared what he could of his day and how he was wrapping up everything for the deployment. When another cramp hit, you tried to hide the pain but noticed him glancing at his watch. “Darlin’...” he said gently.

“It’s nothing, Jake. Did you want to do anything right away when you get home? I picked up stuff from the store, but we can go somewhere.”

“No, I wanna go right home,” he said.

“Good. Me too.” While you updated him on how you were passing your days, another cramp hit.

“Darlin’, can you do me a favor?” he asked once you breathed through the pain.

“What?” you asked, pulling the drain plug with your toes in preparation for refilling the tub with warm water.

“Can you please go get check out? I’m pretty sure you’ve had three contractions while we’ve been talkin’ these last 30 minutes.”

“I’m not having contractions, Jacob,” you snapped. “First babies are always late. Dr. Shearer told me it would be a while and we’d talk induction at our next appointment.” He sighed your name, and you shook your head. “No. It’s not happening. We’re two days away from you getting home. I’m not in labor. I’m just uncomfortable.”

“I swear to god, darlin’, if you have our daughter in the bathtub, you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“It’s a good thing that’s not gonna happen.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he shook his head.

“Please, darlin’. For me?”

“Hypothetically, even if I were in labor, the contractions aren’t close enough for me to go to the hospital. Dr. Shearer said not to worry until they’re consistent and a few minutes apart.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t have someone check.”

The call continued that way for the next twenty minutes, Jake trying to cajole you into going to the hospital while you adamantly refused. His expression tightened when you held your breath as another cramp hit, not even trying to hide that he was timing it with his watch.

You were so focused on trying to breathe through the pain that it took you a moment to realize that there was noise in the bedroom. “Jake?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“I think someone’s in the house,” you said through gritted teeth. As you watched, he blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Good. Don’t be mad.” Sitting up, you felt water slosh over your belly and scowled when you recognized someone calling your name.

“You didn’t.”

“I love you.”

Knocking sounded on the bathroom door, and you groaned. “I’m gonna give you two minutes to get your ass out here before you, me, and Hangman will just have to deal with the fact that I’ll see you naked, because my goddaughter is not being born in the goddamn tub. You hear me? Don’t think I’m playin’,” Javy warned.

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

Author's Note: A major kudos and thank you to @bartonsparrow25 for the boudoir shoot suggestion! That was a fun inclusion.

Major apologies for the time between updates. Life has been life-ing and I'm prepping to take my licensing boards in the next few weeks. But hopefully this chapter makes up for it! We're so close to the finish line!

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#comment reblog #D-Day fic

155 notes · View notes

trickphotography2 · 1 month ago

Text

Javy is in mission mindset, while Darlin' is in denial. Jake's gonna be trying to be mission lead from across the ocean!