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whatislovevavy · 10 hours
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Death to settler colonialism, free Palestine!
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whatislovevavy · 23 hours
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Flight Risk
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
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Summary: The sky beyond the baking tarmac is cloudless, and washed with deep reds and oranges, the way it always is by the time Jake lands when the monthly inter-squad training simulation has drawn to a close. Almost always.
Today, the sky had been a bright Carolina blue.
Today, Hangman had been shot down.
Warnings: cussing? jake being soppy. mentions of handsy dates, sexual referencessss
Notes: so this started as an AU for my fic Afterburn, and still technically is, however it can be read totally independently of that story as well.
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Jake is perched in a casual lean against his plane, watching as the last jet in the pattern finally lands, continuing to wait patiently as the Super Hornet is guided to its designated area, just a few places down from his own. The sky beyond the baking tarmac is cloudless, and washed with deep reds and oranges, the way it always is by the time Jake lands when the monthly inter-squad training simulation has drawn to a close. Almost always.
Today, the sky had been a bright Carolina blue.
Today, Hangman had been shot down.
Jake takes a small amount of comfort in knowing that the pilot responsible for his simulated demise is also the pilot to win the day, despite that meaning his own squad losing out on the point. It wouldn’t happen again, however. He’d foolishly underestimated you, disregarded the gossip he’d overheard about Samurai squad’s newest member, choosing instead to judge for himself. Jake was a prideful son of a bitch at the best of times, and much worse at most others, but he wasn’t actually incapable of shutting the hell up and accepting his slice of humble pie.
At least, he’d accept it in his own special way, which is exactly why he waits long after the others have filtered off to the locker rooms. They’re already clocked off for the day by the time the ground crew have secured the last jet, and the pilot has climbed down. Jake shifts on his feet and gets a good look as you approach, purposefully giving you a suggestive up and down as you spot him and slow your walk.
“That was some flyin’,” he says, pushing off the side of his own jet and coming to stand before you. You blink at him, but raise an eyebrow as you manoeuvre your helmet to rest against your hip.
“I’m sorry, do we know each other?” you ask, eyes sparkling in amusement. Jake grabs at his chest, like you’ve shot him down again, and winces.
“Aw, c’mon, Kodiak” he starts, before fixing you with a piercing stare. “I don’t give out compliments that often, give it to me easy.”
“Only thing I’ll give you is my afterburner.”
Jake can’t help himself, he grins wide. He knows he should keep up the banter, you were clearly well equipped to spar with him, didn’t seem to take anything too personally so far, but all he can think as he stares at the first pilot to ever shoot him down, sweat slicking your flyaway hairs to your forehead, the sunsetting below the tarmac behind you, your cheeks a little ruddy from your time in the air, is that he’s going to marry you.
Luckily, Jake has the good sense to keep this to himself for now.
He steps forward slightly, and holds out his hand, watching as you eye it suspiciously for a moment.
“I’m Hangman,” he tells you as you relent and shake his hand.
“I know who you are, that's why I went for you first.” you reply with surprisingly little smugness in your voice, just plain truth. Jake lifts an eyebrow at you.
“Using me to raise your profile I see,” he teases. You don’t seem to notice that you’re still shaking his hand, and Jake feels slightly thankful, because he’s memorising the way it feels. You scoff at him.
“And what would you have done?” you challenge. Jake just looks your features over, and decides an evening ceremony will be perfect.
You realise then that you’re still shaking his hand, and you hurriedly pull away, moving to hold your helmet in both hands as if to stop yourself from reaching out again.
“I need to go do my post-flight checks,” you say quickly, sidestepping Jake and moving off toward the hanagar, and probably the showers. Jake turns and watches you go, his smile never faltering.
“Kodiak!” he calls out, waiting for you to stop and turn back to him before going on. “I enjoyed flying with you.” Jake tells you honestly, but musters his most serious expression so that you’ll know that too. He watches your brows furrow suspiciously for a moment, almost like you’re expecting him to laugh like it’s just a prank, but after a couple more seconds, your frown smooths into something more curious, before your face at last completely softens and you give him a small, but genuine smile.
“I enjoyed shooting you down,” you reply, your voice sincere, but your words catching him off guard and making Jake let out a surprised bark of laughter. 
Your smile widens just a little in the corners, like perhaps you had liked making him laugh, but soon enough you’re shifting your helmet in your hands again, and giving him a parting nod before once again you turn your back and walk away.
Jake stands still in place and watches as you shrink before at last disappearing entirely into the hangar. Once sure he’s alone, he places his hands on his hips and lets out a long, low whistle. He feels his heartbeat thump away rapidly in his chest, his adrenaline still spiking from just the thrill of speaking to you properly and in person for the first time, after being forced only to listen to your voice all afternoon on the radios.
It was a very nice voice, he thinks, both in person and on the radios, and it suits your very nice face very nicely. With a last whistle of approval, Jake begins making his own way inside, and even though he’d promised himself earlier that never again would he let you shoot him down, now he can’t help but think anything that brought you enjoyment was worth repeating.
Replaying your conversation over and over as he finally showers, changes, and heads home for the night, the first thing Jake does upon arriving in his apartment is reach for the pad and pen he keeps on the kitchen counter. He scribbles down the date, and writes out the highlights from your conversation as best as he remembers them. Peeling it off the pad, he folds it neatly, before placing it carefully inside the leather bound folder that held such items as his passport and birth certificate, before replacing it again in its hiding spot.
He wouldn’t need the contents of the note for a little while, he thinks, but when it came time to write the speech he’d give at your wedding, Jake wanted to know exactly where he could find it.
“Well, that was pathetic,” Javy nudges Jake in the ribs, and nods in your direction across the bar. Jake, who until now has been trying hard not to look your way, is finally given the perfect reason to do so, and swings his eyes over to you.
You’re sitting near the bar in your civvies, with a man who Jake can’t help but notice is not himself, and who is currently being awfully handsy for his liking. You don’t look completely comfortable either, but he also knows you have no trouble telling men to calm down when you aren’t feeling their advances. Neither reason adds up to exactly why Jake almost immediately chooses to abandon Javy by the pool table.
Part way across the bar, Jake realises that it’s not even a rescue attempt he’s trying for, clearly you were fine, no, this reaction from him is entirely new, spurred on by a good many things, but right now, by the abysmal looking date you were enduring. He slows his pace, and begins to move at a more natural gait, his lack of rush having no active affect on the crowds around him either way. Jake was both tall enough and wide enough that people tend to part for him as he walks regardless of asking.
He feels his chest puff out a little when you notice him coming before he even reaches you, and how even though he positions himself at the bar behind you, you seem to subconsciously turn a little to be able to look over at him anyway. Jake grins to himself when your ‘date’ seems to flounder at your seemingly captured attention, and quickly asks if you’d like another of the little cocktails you’d picked that night.  Jake can’t help but scoff internally. He’d asked you once why you drank beer with the squad, but only ordered fruit drinks when you had a date, to which you’d replied that you thought it appeared more feminine. Jake scoffs again, this time out loud.
“You’ll let this guy take you out, but not me? You don’t even like that, you’re not even drinking it!” he says quietly enough so that only you are able to hear the clipped annoyance in his words. You cock your head at him, and raise your straw to your lips either spitefully or indignantly.
“Still sour about that Jakey?” you tease. Despite the subject matter, and his frustration that these men you went out with seemingly had something Jake did not, he can’t help but feel pride pump through his veins upon seeing the way your face, especially your eyes, have lit up for the first time all night, something which he thinks should be a bare minimum when. If a man couldn’t engage you, then he just wasn’t good enough for you, was he?
Jake shrugs noncommittally in response to your question, both of you knowing full well the answer to that. Instead, he looks away from you briefly as the bartender approaches, but feels your gaze burning the side of his cheek.
“Two beers please,” he says, paying and waiting patiently for the drinks to be deposited on the bar before he looks back at you again. He nudges one in your direction, pretending as though he doesn’t care if you accept it or not, by taking a sip of his own. His faux-apathy is completely blown by the way he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, even as he drinks, waiting to see whether or not you’ll take the beer. You watch him with the barest amount of disapproval that you can muster, before almost shyly collecting up the chilled glass bottle in your hands.
“Are you forgetting something, perhaps? Oh, it’s super important, the name is on the tip of my tongue! What're they called again…?” you purse your lips and frown deeply, making an almost sincere show of recalling the information you’re after.
Jake waits as you seem to get it at last, snapping your finger and pointing it at him. “Fraternisation laws!” you exclaim overly enthusiastic for the topic at hand, contrasting with the way you stare flatly at him. Jake brushes your finger aside as he turns inward to face you fully, and cocks his head curiously down at you.
“You know I’ve already got my half of the paperwork filled out Teddy Bear, I’m just waitin’ on you.” Jake leans in toward you as he speaks, moving in near enough that one might call it risque, but he prefers intimate. For your part, you seem to be trying hard to suppress a smile, which you don’t succeed at, however you still shake your head at him anyway, and pull back, which makes Jake immediately step out of your space a little, returning to an appropriate distance for two officers.
“I bet you say that to all the pilots.” you say quietly, almost to yourself. The line is a worn cliche, he almost writes it off, except that your tone is entirely new, and entirely too put-out for your usual wave offs.
“Only the ones that keep shooting me down,” he replies after a beat watching you, not really certain how else he should reply to this development in your now storied routine of rejecting his interest, even though he knows that you like him very much. Fraternisation had been the last reason, though, nobody really took that seriously enough to not even bother navigating its murky depths of paperwork, but before that you’d listed not being hungry enough for dinner and having to video call with your model-building partner, neither serious excuses, right?
At this point Jake isn’t what one might say is desperate, but is what one might call unwilling to watch you sit through another completely inadequate date, with men who seemed to always be on the worst side of interested in you. That meant they fell somewhere firmly between sleazy and handsy, neither category of which was amongst Jake’s personal favourite reasons for liking you so much, which in no particular order included your excellence as an aviator, your sharp sense of humour, and your unbridled ambition.
Up until now, though, you’ve never once turned him away with something that sounded so much like it might be true. You’ve also never once stared up at him the way you are now, your expression significant, but unreadable to him.
Then, after thinking perhaps he had gotten somewhere real with you tonight, Jake feels a familiar twinge of disappointment as you turn back to your date, moving in closer to talk quietly with the man.
Jake looks down at his beer and lets out a sigh, ready to leave you to your fun, and return to his prior activity of pretending not to watch you from afar. When the man accompanying you noisily  steps back from the bar, the movement catches Jake’s eye, and he turns to see as the man looks briefly between you, before his eyes swing to Jake.
Jake hasn’t even caught on properly yet when your apparent former date turns on his heel and stalks darkly into the crowd, before at last disappearing entirely. Now free of your upsettingly poor choice of date, you swing your chair back around to face him, knees knocking into him with enough force to jolt Jake back to reality, where he discovers things to have played out almost exactly as he’d thought he’d been imagining them.
“Alright Seresin, you’ve got one shot at this,” you tell him, sounding like you don’t really mean it at all. Even so, Jake straightens and fixes you with his best self-assured smirk, but only because he knows you like it when he does.
“One shot is all I need,” he says proudly, before a few seconds pass and he finds himself blinking at the unintentional disclaimer he’s just given. “I mean, I’ll gladly take as many shots as you want, but–”
“Jesus, Jake! Anyone would think you haven't been laid in months!” you cut him off with a bark of laughter, your features in almost complete disbelief at such a thing. Jake pauses, hesitating with how he should respond, but eventually relaxes once more, and leans down on the bar again to fix you with his stare.
“Two months,” he informs you simply. You actually snort this time, which he finds utterly adorable, and you continue to chortle at his apparent joke, until you seem to realise he isn’t joining you. Your face falls then, and you blink at him in surprise, a flash of guilt mixing in with it, before you quickly attempt to play off your astonishment.
“Like, Seriously?” You ask, staring at him. Jake just nods, giving a short shrug, but doesn’t break your eye contact. After several more seconds pass, heavy with your bewilderment, you settle in your spot beside him one more, and let out a small huff. “Saving yourself for somebody special, then?” your eyebrows lift up as you ask, voice lilting with humour, but you don’t fully smile yet, like you’re afraid of still possibly offending him. Jake simply shrugs again, but rolls his eyes lightly. 
He’s well aware of his reputation before you, as is almost all on base who know him, or those who frequent the Navy bars scattered nearby. He thinks maybe he should have gone about distributing the updated information on him, however, because as far as Jake is concerned, he had been off the market for quite some time.
Unofficially, anyway.
“Oh, she’s very special, darlin’. Someone worth saving myself for. I think you’d like her a lot,” Jake does his best not to sound too goofy about it, but he swings almost too far the opposite way, and finds himself hoping to god that the purring quality to his voice as he speaks isn’t too much.
You stare at Jake for several seconds processing his line briefly, before at last scoffing and rolling your eyes as you turn slightly away from him to take a sip of your drink. Despite this reaction likely wounding a lesser man, Jake knows his words have resonated at least a little, because both your scoff or your eye roll half-hearted at best, both also completely undermined by the not-so-tiny smile you clearly can’t repress properly, even if you try to hide it by taking another sip.
“Answer me this, Seresin;” you start when a few minutes have passed, Jake having also taken to sipping his beer, choosing to let the subject settle between you for a bit. “I know about you, and I’m not like, slut-shaming you or anything, but how do I know all of this isn’t just the usual bullshit you parcel out? How do I know I’m not just another in a long line of others?” you ask, your voice surprisingly light for the frankness and seriousness of your words. Jake blinks at you, his brow furrowing this time, and notes the way your gaze flickers to the crease between his brows for half a second.
He places his beer down and blows out a puff of air. He doesn’t answer you right away, can’t really, because on some level he realises telling you that he’s been planning your lives together since the day you’d met won’t go down super well, but he also doesn’t want to misrepresent the level of his feelings toward you.
“Well, you don’t. I mean, you are,” he speaks carefully, already expecting the frown that appears on your face almost immediately, and quickly goes on. “But you’re the last in that line. I can promise you that.” Jake’s voice becomes involuntarily quieter as he finishes speaking, and he hates the uncertain sound the softness gives his words, but knows saying them again will only cheapen them.
You stare at one another for several heart-thumping seconds, and Jake wonders if the rest of the bar has all but disappeared for you too, or if you were still well aware of everything going on around you. For all Jake knew, the bar didn’t even exist right now. And then you move, your eyes bouncing up to blink at him slowly like a cat, before they drop to your feet in an embarrassed sort of way Jake can truthfully say he’d never have imagined of you.
“I asked Javy a few weeks ago if you were sick, or something,” you say, looking back up at him with a laugh in your voice now. “I saw you turn down, like, six different women that night, and I don’t know, I was genuinely concerned for your health.” You tell him, making a small smile pull at the corners of Jake’s lips that you’d been worried about him at all, had watched him long enough to see him turn others away.
“You know what he said? He just rolled his eyes at me and said that, no, actually, you weren’t fine at all, that you were in love with me, and if he’s honest, it wasn’t cute anymore, and had become totally insufferable,” You laugh properly this time as you relay the information, and Jake can’t help but chuckle too.
“And so you thought you’d let me stew for a few more weeks? Have I not been a good boy enough already?” Jake asks with an amused twinkle in his eyes. He knew he was getting to the end of his rope tonight, but in reality, it never mattered to him how many weeks or months you made him wait, any amount of time would have been worth it. You shrug and dip your eyes away from him to dance around the room.
“Not exactly. I mean, I didn’t totally believe Javy, but I figured there might’ve been some truth there. I mean what is this, like, the… fifth time in two months you’ve asked me out?” You question, half to yourself as you do some maths.
“Fifth times the charm,” Jake replies seriously, having no other memory anymore of how the quote is supposed to go and not entirely realising he’s said it wrong at all. You snicker at this glimpse at just how far gone he is, but he doesn’t mind.
“I’m sorry I didn’t give you a real chance before now,” you say quietly, before pulling a conciliatory expression. “But to be fair, if you were any other guy, I’d be totally right about you… I still could be,” you sound as though you’re trying to convince yourself, and trial off after biting your lower lip in a distracted sort of way. Jake nods, understanding your hesitation. You weren’t to know that he cared about you more than anyone he’d met before, more than anyone ever could, but he’s also aware that there was no point to talking the big talk when it came to things like this.
“Well now, excuse me Darlin’! I didn’t work so damned hard on my exceptionally slutty past for you to just sweep it all aside for me! It’s just plain disrespectful,” Jake blusters, playing up his accent as much as he can, but still only coming out sounding half indignant. You blink in surprise at his disapproval, and quickly try to hide the sound of your snort as it escapes through another laugh, clearly taken aback and not expecting this angle from him.
“So this is what's gonna happen instead; you’re gonna make me work just as hard for this, for you, and once you’ve made yourself an honest man outta me, then we can talk about being right or wrong,” Jake states matter-of-factly, like he isn’t simultaneously pleading you for more than this, and begging you to stand your ground at the same time.
Jake’s most frequent and recurring nightmare these past months had been the idea of getting you, then losing you. He isn’t lying about working hard to have his reputation, Jake didn’t do commitment, he didn’t do more than one night, and if he did, it was never because he wanted more. He knows relationships and intimacy are the furthest thing from his forte by choice, so if he was going to get the chance to be with you, he wanted to do it properly, to do it right.
Your laughter turns softer, pulling him from his reverie. He finds you watching him, considering his words as he’d trailed off somewhere in his head while waiting for your response. There's a small twinkle in your eyes that tells him you had no plans to take it easy on him ever, but as if you know he won’t be abated by that alone, you lean in toward him, resting your chin in your palm while blinking up at him coquettishly.
“Well, you’re already on the right track, with this whole ‘saving yourself’ business. I appreciate that, off the bat,” you say, and Jake is kind of relieved, because while it wasn’t necessarily something he had to do, you weren’t an item and had turned him down four times so feelings or no, Jake wouldn’t have been in the wrong if he’d slipped up once or twice, but he’s glad that you acknowledge your approval, at least because now he knows now and feels a gust of pride inflate his chest.
“To be clear, though, I would make you work for it regardless of your past. I know what I’m worth, what I bring to a relationship, and what I want out of one, and I know those things too well just to forget them. Not for anyone.”
Jake nods vehemently, once again in complete agreement.
“Good. That’s real good, sweetheart. I don’t,” he tells you honestly, now feeling a sense of distinctly unearned pride that you were already so intune and aware of your value. He knows that for most people, including himself, that those things are only learned once they’re older. 
Your face flashes with surprise, startled by his admission of what was probably at least some basic emotional intelligence. “I’ve never wanted to know it, it wasn’t important before…” Jake trails off, and feels a sense of hesitation and regret start to poison his tongue. Was that too much? Too callous? You were aware of his colourful sexual past, but plenty of people had those. Jake had been calculated in his endeavours, and he’s suddenly ashamed, and not sure if he wants you to know that.
For a few beats you look at one another, Jake trying his best not to break eye contact, somehow hoping it will tell you all you need to know about his intentions, but after a moment, it’s you who looks away, shifting back into your position resting both arms atop the bar, where you begin fiddling with your drinks coaster.
“You know, you don’t have to be quite that honest, you can try to like, impress me still,” you say after a couple more seconds pass, and Jake lets out a shaky, anxious breath when a sideways, wry smile accompanies your words.
“Rather you be impressed by the truth than anything else,” he responds, mimicking your lean, your arms pressed against one another now, and Jake could be mistaken, but he’s almost certain that you lean some of your weight into him.
“‘M just sayin’ you don’t have to, like, abase yourself just for me to think you’re dealing fair. I already know you’re not exactly a two rodeo pony, but if you’re trying to be, that’s all I ask.” you look up at him and catch his gaze. Jake thinks over what you’ve said, not fully being able to believe it, but he wonders now if this will be just as much about proving his worthiness to himself, just as much as it was to you.
As if  he has little screens in his eyes that relay his every thought like a teleprompter, your expression softens once again, and this time Jake is sure that you’re leaning into his side, your weight falling solidly, but comfortably onto him.
“C’mon Hangman, you’re the best, aren’t you?” you tease, even nudging him playfully. “Who says you aren’t the best at this too?” you go on to ask, raising your eyebrows challengingly. Jake feels both a thrill at the slight taunt to your voice, as well as a deep affection and reverence that you know exactly how to play him already.
He picks up what you’re putting down, and lifts his chin to look down at you, one eyebrow of his own lifting in an almost condescending manner.
“Certainly not you, that's for damn sure, sweetheart.” Jake damn-near gloats, chest puffing out and pride swelling up again substantially at the way you seem to enjoy this display.
“Well then, I can’t wait to find out!” You say, knocking into his side once more with your elbow. Jake’s smile flickers more genuine, and after a moment of brief thought, he uncrosses his arms on the bar and slings his arm casually around your shoulder. You move into him almost like you’ve been waiting for him to do this, like for the past few weeks you’ve been thinking about it and what you might do if he did.
You grin up at him and Jake smiles back, lowering his face down to yours so that when he speaks again, you’re the only one in the room who can hear him
“Just promise me one thing,” Jake asks, serious as ever now. Your features crease a little, but you nod.
“Sure, what is it?”
“Never stop shooting me down. It’s kinda sexy.”
You let out a shocked, joyful laugh, even as your eyes gain a mean little sheen to them, the contrast between your sweet chortle, and the evil look on your face only making his own grin widen. Jake makes a note to bring this up in his wedding speech.
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whatislovevavy · 2 days
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🍭 lollipop: the baby being visibly excited when one of the parents is entering the room with hangman! please and thank you. love u <333
rachel oh my god you have no idea how fast i sprinted to google docs to write this. thank you so much for requesting, i had such a blast writing this as my first hangman fic!!! love youu <33
dad!jake "hangman" seresin x mom!reader, 1.2k, pretty much just hangman being his baby girl's biggest fan
join my 1k celebration!
Training days meant Jake was out of the house at the crack of dawn, which kind of sucked, but it also meant you got to spend the day with your beautiful baby girl, which made his early absence a lot less lonely.
Violet Aria Seresin was a near mirror image of her dad, all big green eyes and fluffy sandy brown hair, but not nearly as talkative as him. At least, not with understable words. Nearing seven months old, Violet was mindlessly babbling up a storm nowadays, grabbing at everything within arms reach to shove into her mouth, and just learning how to scoot across the floor on her tiny butt.
All these things combined made it a little harder to keep track of her, but you’d be lying if you said she wasn’t the most perfect little girl in the whole entire world.
Okay, maybe you were a little biased, but Jake would wholeheartedly agree with you.
-------
You were just changing Violet into her pajamas after giving her a bath when you heard the front door open in the distance, shoulders sagging in relief now that Jake was finally home.
Violet had been pretty calm this morning, but became really upset when she woke from her afternoon nap to realize her dad was nowhere to be found, only ceasing in her screaming when you distracted her with some mashed banana and those puffed cereal snacks she loved. Your heart nearly broke listening to her cry, and even more so when you knew you couldn’t just ask your husband to come home in the middle of the day.
“Aw man, did I miss bath time?” Jake sighed, leaning against the doorway with one shoulder. He looked downright exhausted, but perked up at the sight of both of you. Violet clocked in on him from the changing table instantly, screeching right in your ear at finally hearing her dad’s voice, arms waving, legs kicking, the whole nine yards, making it near impossible for you to get her into her onesie once he materialized next to you.
Jake smelled good too, woodsy like sandalwood, fresh like his eucalyptus shampoo, so you knew he’d showered on the base. He always liked to be clean before he came home, so he could make a beeline straight for Violet the minute he stepped foot in the house without wasting a second. Peas in a pod, those two were.
You aimed a raised brow at him in a silent ‘really?’ that he grinned sheepishly at, backing up a few steps to let you finish dressing her before speaking again. “How’s my perfect girl doing?”
“You talking about me or her, Hangman?” You rarely ever referred to him by his callsign or his real name, instead being rather partial to pet names. Babe, baby, handsome, honey—the usual. Sometimes even Lieutenant if you were feeling rather bold. Hangman and Jake were reserved for when you weren’t kidding around with him, but both you and he knew that this time you meant it as a teasing joke.
“Whoa, darlin’, no need to whip out the big guns,” Jake held his hands up in mock defense, the look on his face anything but defensive. “Of course I meant you.” He winked, then lowered his voice to an exaggeratedly loud whisper. “I really meant you, Vi, but shhh, don’t tell your mama.”
“You think you’re real funny, don’t you?”
“Oh, I know I am. Why else would you have married me? Surely not for my irresistible charm and impeccable genetics!”
“More like your snoring right in my ear at night and leaving dirty laundry all over the place.” You shot back. Your words were sharp, but your tone was quite the opposite, soft and warm like the San Diego sun. “And the walking around shirtless thing is also an added bonus.”
“Hilarious,” He snorted, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as his arm slid around your waist. You instinctively leaned into his touch, slotting into his embrace like it was second nature. “How was your day?”
“Your daughter sure has a set of lungs on her.” You replied simply, finishing up snapping all the buttons closed.
“Uh oh. Bad day?”
“Sort of. She really missed you today, hon.”
“I’m sorry, my love. I almost wanted to call it an early day and come home earlier, I missed my girls that much.” Jake sighed, thumb rubbing circles over your hip gently. He tickled Violet’s tummy with a bigger smile, drawing an infectious giant grin from her. “Were you being a handful for your mom today, baby girl? You miss me too much?”
Violet let out a loud squawk, making the most determined grabby hands at Jake that you’d ever seen from her. She wanted her dad, and she wanted him now.
“You little traitor,” You gasped, feigning hurt. “I thought we were a team, missy.”
“Not my fault she’s a daddy’s girl!” Jake retreated across the room to dodge the gentle kick you threw at him, sprawling out on the floor a few feet away from the two of you with a booming chuckle. You lifted her off the table, setting her down on the carpet gently and settling behind her in case she fell backwards. “You love your daddy, don’t ya, sweetpea?” Violet gurgled her response, drool gathering at the corners of the gummy smile she was aiming at her dad. He held his arms out, beckoning for her to come to him with the biggest of smiles on his face. “C’mere, Vi, come to daddy!”
She butt scooted her way over to Jake surprisingly fast, keeling right over into his arms with her face smooshed into his chest within seconds. “Hot dang, darlin’! We might have a future Olympic track star on our hands!”
“A naval aviator and an Olympian, how ever will I manage?”
“You gonna win gold for us, speedy?” Jake cooed, sliding one finger into her tiny fist and waving it around gently. Violet just stared up at him with wide eyes, then proceeded to bring his finger up into her open mouth to gnaw on. “We’ll have this talk again when you’re older. I sense you’re not ready for such high goals yet, are you?”
More chewing (or gumming, really) on his finger from her. “Copy you loud and clear, sweet girl.”
“Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us then, don’t we?” You chuckled, leaning back on your palms. Your heart grew two sizes in your chest at your two favorite people looking happy and content now that they were with each other at last.
Jake grinned at you—not one of his half smirk half grins, but a real, genuine smile. Back before you had Violet, he always said those smiles were reserved for you, and only you, but that rule quickly went out the window the day she was born.
“Nah, she’s gonna be a pilot like her daddy, aren’t you, Vi? Gonna be my wing-girl ‘n have my back up in those skies?” He asked fondly, free hand smoothing over her hair. Violet burbled something that vaguely resembled an acknowledgment of Jake’s words, though both you and he knew far too well that she couldn’t understand a word he was saying. “Yeah, we’ll get you up in a jet soon enough.”
“She can’t even crawl yet, honey.”
“Don’t see why that’s a problem, but okay.”
“Jake.”
“Kidding, obviously. Safety first for my girls, always.”
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whatislovevavy · 2 days
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whatislovevavy · 2 days
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SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN (1952) dir. Gene Kelly, Stanley Donen – Costume design by Walter Plunkett
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whatislovevavy · 3 days
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hey, don’t cry. one half flour one half yogurt knead into dough and fry for easy flatbread and dip in balsamic vinegar, okay?
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whatislovevavy · 3 days
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oh my god
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whatislovevavy · 3 days
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Make her say good things about herself while you fuck her. Associate her pleasure with self confidence. Condition that bitch to love herself. 🥵🥵🥵
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whatislovevavy · 3 days
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Neil my dude, after showing my mother season one of Good Omens and my dad seeing a bit of it I mentioned you also wrote Coraline and either my mom or dad (don't remember which one said it) said you must have been a weird kid.
Could you please confirm or deny whether or not you were a Weird Kid™?
I was a weird kid.
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whatislovevavy · 3 days
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*touching his extremely defined six pack* who did this to you.....
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whatislovevavy · 4 days
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whatislovevavy · 4 days
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watermelons. | JS x Reader
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SYNOPSIS: Jake loves ur boobs. That’s it really.
PAIRING: Jake Seresin x Reader
A/N: written for all my big tit girlies, from a big tit girlie herself.
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He’s been obsessed with the girls since he first saw them.
And by the girls, he means your tits.
Like just imagine, cocky little top gun aviator, Jake Seresin, turning into a complete mess first glance at you. Spilling his beer all over his tan golden chest that one summer afternoon at the beach with the dagger squad, just because he saw you in your denim shorts and yellow halter top.
And they sit so nicely, your tits. Full, large, and beautiful.
The breeze carries the scent of salt, the air humid and yet all jake can do is stare at the girl with the sweet smile and pretty tits, laughing loudly with her friends on the Hard Deck patio.
“So you’re just gonna stare like a creep or what?” Bradley’s low voice calls out beside him, crossing his arms across his chest as he adjusts his aviator sunglasses, muscles glistening as well under the heat. He whistles softly when he sees you, to which Jake shoves his friend away playfully, annoyed that he’s looking at you too.
“Back off, Bradshaw”
And so next thing he knows, he’s by your side, immediately serenading you with his charming smile and kind eyes.
“Hi sweetheart”
It’s so fucking cheesy and simple, and yet it works on you. You’re spinning around, eyes going wide at the firm, golden chest your face to face with and the way Jake just looms over you, hands on his hips, sweaty and golden from a match of beach football.
“Would you allow me to buy the pretty girl and her friends a drink?” He asks your friend group, sending a wink that makes the girls swoon.
“Oh my fuck” slips out from one of your friends behind you, the group gawking at the sight of the tall, handsome man in front of them.
And she was right. Oh my fuck indeed.
All it took was one line of southern drawl and you were hooked.
That night when Jake has you pinned against the alleyway wall outside of the bar, both your cheeks hot and the breeze cooler, you stare up at the man you had just spent the whole day flirting to.
“So you’re stationed here for a few months?” you breathe out, staring at his broad chest and chiseled jaw, feeling so small under his gaze. You gasp when his hand shifts closer, holding your waist firm in his grasp.
He nods, no need for words when he’s busy admiring you as well. The tall man gently nestles his lips beside your ear, whispering praises as he pressed a kiss to your neck.
You shut your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes at the proximity and sheer sensuality of it all.
“Can I touch you?” He asks pulling away, looking at your eyes with something more than just lust.
You smile, chest heaving as you replied coyly. “Where do you want to touch me?”
Jake is starstruck at your words, trying so hard to shield you from the world under his arms and selfishly have you all for himself.
You take both his hands in yours and wrap them over your hips, letting them grab the mounds of your flesh and groan, feeling his hard on pressing against your front.
“feel me. and show me where you want to touch me most” you gasp, eyes shutting closed.
Jake pulls his hands away to caress your cheeks, taking your face as he presses his lips against yours.
“Here” he says under his breath. That was where he wanted to touch you most.
The kiss is deep, soft under the starry beach sky.
The same hands slide down to softly squeeze your tits, and that’s when you know that was the second spot he wanted to touch most. You smirk against the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing into him further.
Jake Seresin was a tits guy.
So when Jake comes home to his apartment after a year of steady dating, he’s already making a beeline to find you, settling on the fact that you must be in the laundry room finishing up the chores.
You don’t even have time to greet your boyfriend properly before he’s shoving his face in your tits and smacking a kiss to each one.
“Jake, what is up with you?” You giggled, shocked at how needy and hot he was. “I didn’t know they let you off early”
He sighs, taking them in his strong hands and pressing a kiss to each breast again.
“Just missed my girls, that’s all” he groans, holding you closer as you give him a hug.
you rolled your eyes, watching as he continue to rub them softly, pressing a kiss to your collar bone.
“I cut up the watermelon, it’s in the fridge” you told him, pulling him away to press a peck to his cheek.
You took the laundry basket, propping it against your hip as you smiled when Jake called out while pouting at the loss of contact.
“Not the melons I need!” he exasperates, trailing after you quickly.
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whatislovevavy · 4 days
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there’s a website where you put in two musicians/artists and it makes a playlist that slowly transitions from one musician’s style of music to the other’s
it’s really fun
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whatislovevavy · 4 days
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had a thought today: giving rhett the sloppiest blow job while he’s wearing his riding chaps!!!! like right after he’s finished riding and you pull him back into the shadows somewhere and your knees are in the dirt and you only unzip his fly to pull him out because you wanna keep the entire image of him: beat up cowboy hat, riding vest, worn in jeans, his chaps, and that big ol’ belt buckle 🤤
→ a/n: good LORD dear anon! yes, yes and yes again! 🤤 there was something about the new outer range trailer and seeing him in his full get up, that made me remember just how delicious he looks in the full outfit 🤤 he deserves the sloppiest of blowjobs looking like that! thank you so much for this delicious thot my dear anon! 💌
→ c/w: smut and blowjobs.
rhett just had a winning ride.
after any ride he’s pumping full of adrenaline and desperate to get his hands on you, but a winning ride brings out this animalistic need in him, and you. you waste no time in running up to him, giving him a congratulatory and heated kiss, before whispering in his ear about how desperately you want him right now. you know that he wants you the very same as he lets out a low growl, squeezes your ass harshly and bids a quick farewell to the others.
he drags you round to the back of the stands and combined with the shadows of the trailers, no one would know that you were there. still, the thrill of getting caught thrums through both of your veins. heated kisses and groans between the two of you are exchanged, before you suck a harsh kiss on his sweat coated neck and drop to your knees. rhett goes to unbuckle his vest and slip off his gloves, but you grab his wrist and gasp out.
“no, no. don’t.”
a smug smile twitches on rhett’s lips. “why, darlin’?”
“you just… fuck. y’ looked s’ fuckin’ hot out there, rhett. i need it, i need all of you.”
you don’t know if what you’re saying is even making any sense. you’re just desperate for him and your mind is spinning.
through the shadowed light, you can still see rhett’s smug smile as his eyes gleam down at you. his gloved hands are rough on your cheeks as he cups your chin. his thumb prods on your bottom lip and you can taste the bitter leather. “alright, little darlin’. go ahead, show the winnin’ cowboy how it’s done.”
he gives your chin a squeeze before snaking his hand round to gather your hair and create a makeshift ponytail, letting you have full and complete access to his already straining cock. you twist your fingers under his chaps and go to un-do his big, shiny, belt buckle. it shimmers in the low light and the sound of it clanking against itself to reveal his painfully hard cock, has you drooling.
you can’t wait to leave with your knees bruised and dirtied from the rough ground, and his belt buckle imprinted on your rosy and hot cheeks.
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whatislovevavy · 4 days
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I love it when men get all sweaty and insanely feral during sex. That's a hard-working man.
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whatislovevavy · 4 days
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TODAY. HE RETWEETED THIS TODAY. FROM JULY 2022. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GET OVER THEM NOT EVEN JON DID
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whatislovevavy · 4 days
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Reading amazing fanfiction, then forgetting to bookmark it
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