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roosterforme · 9 months

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A Formal Reprimand | Hangman x Reader

Summary: Above all else, Jake prided himself on his spotless Naval record. When his wife inadvertently causes him to be formally reprimanded during a deployment, he plans to give her a fair share of the punishment when he gets home.

Warnings: Fluffy smutty fun

Length: 3000

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

You clung to Jake's body, your eyes welling up as you held onto him. He kissed your beautiful lips one last time, swiping away your tears. He should have probably already been aboard the USS Nimitz, but he just couldn't seem to pull himself away.

"I'll miss you." Your broken sob had his heart aching as he held you tight. Everyone bustling around the dock just knocked the two of you closer together, but he didn't mind that one bit.

"I'll miss you more, Darlin'," he promised. "It's just two months. You'll hardly notice I'm gone."

His crooked smile made you smile and laugh through your tears. "I think I might notice that my sexy husband isn't around," you told him, wiping your eyes on the collar of his uniform. "But two months isn't so bad." Your voice was soft and so familiar, and Jake took a moment to close his eyes and memorize it. Because falling asleep without your voice in his ear would be the hardest part about being away from you.

"Seresin!"

Jake sighed. "I need to go now, before I get a reprimand." He kissed you softly and whispered, "I love you so much." And then he was finally tearing himself away from you, turning back to watch you crying and waving. It was just two months this time, but it still hurt him to leave.

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It was so bad. Jake did almost nothing except look forward to the moments when he could talk to you. But even the rushed facetime calls just made him miss you more. You held up the dog to wave at him and told him about work. You looked like you were doing just fine, and Jake pretended he was, too.

But at the end of each call, he'd lean in closer to the screen and ask you to say something that he could think about before he went to bed. Sometimes your response was sweet. Sometimes it was decidedly dirty. But he always loved watching your lips as you responded.

A few weeks in, he was talking to you, and you looked so good, Jake felt himself stirring a bit. "You gonna tell me something I can think about before bed, Darlin'?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, slowly unbuttoning your blouse as he leaned in closer. He figured he was probably drooling, but it didn't matter. You weren't wearing a bra, and when your peaked nipples came into view, you whispered, "If I were with you, I would have your cock in my mouth right now. And I'd let you cum all over my face, just the way you like to."

You were running your fingers along your tits, and Jake was throbbing for you. 'Darlin'," he grunted, "I'm gonna need that kind of special treatment when I get home."

"Anything you want. I hope you've been enjoying those polaroids I tucked into your bag."

"Almost every day," he promised, and you blew him a kiss.

When the call ended, Jake hustled awkwardly back to his bunk, praying that Fanboy was still at dinner or the gym. Empty. Perfect. He quickly locked the door and unzipped his pants while he reached for the collection of polaroids he had hidden with his clean laundry.

And there you were, with his cock in your mouth during an anniversary trip to Bora Bora. And again with his cock buried in your pussy. And another one with your hands on your tits. He spread the photos out on his bed and wrapped his hand around his length.

"Fuck," he groaned, focusing on a photo of you using a pink toy on yourself that he had taken a few months ago. Those gorgeous tits and your perfect face on display. He jerked himself off a little faster, thinking about your voice and your warm hands. He was so close, so fucking close. Jake reached for a handkerchief and finished in it, panting as he thought of the way you'd be giggling as he blew his load onto your face.

He missed you so much. Missed everything about you. As he zipped up his pants, he wondered when he'd be able to call you again. And then he heard a key in the door, followed by Fanboy's voice, and Jake started to panic. He scooped up the polaroids and looked around.

"Shit," he gasped, shoving them between the pages of the murder mystery paperback he'd brought with him to read when he got bored. He tossed the book back onto the small nightstand just as his bunkmate came bounding into the room.

"Hangman!" Mickey greeted him. "Get changed. Let's hit the gym."

Jake swallowed hard and tried not to look as suspicious as he felt. "Sure," he agreed, turning to his dresser before his friend could see that his pants were still unbuttoned. He pulled out some gym clothes, and a few minutes later, he and Fanboy were on their way to workout.

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A week later, Jake had completed a strenuous mission, and he was exhausted. But by the time he returned from the showers, ready to crawl into his bed, Fanboy was already sound asleep and snoring. Loudly. Jake groaned and grabbed that book he never got a chance to start. The lounge would probably be deserted right now, and maybe, if it was empty, he could sleep a little while in there.

It seemed like he passed every single admiral aboard the aircraft carrier on his way, and he stopped to appropriately address each of them. When the lounge was in sight, Jake turned just in time to smack directly into Admiral Simpson. He watched in horror as his paperback went flying out of his hand, and as the pages separated in midair, Jake's brain short circuited. In a fraction of a second, he recalled what was depicted in each one of the eight polaroid photos he had forgotten were tucked in there. And then he got to watch as each one came loose from the book and sailed through the air.

He could actually see the photo of you bent over the kitchen counter in nothing but his dog tags as it soared past Cyclone's head. "Fuck!" Jake shouted, eyes wide as he raked his fingers through his hair in a state of extreme panic. He lunged for the closest photo, but Cyclone's boot came down on it before he could do anything about it.

"Lieutenant Seresin. You will not use that foul language in my presence. Do you understand."

"Yes sir, Admiral Simpson," he managed to choke out, standing at full attention. But Jake's eyes were scanning the floor, trying to locate the other seven polaroids. If he could just get them before Cyclone or anyone else actually looked at them...

But it was too late. He watched as Admiral Simpson moved his boot and bent to pick up that goddamn filthy looking photo.

"Explain this, please," Cyclone demanded, holding it up.

"Sir," Jake began, blood rushing from his face. "I...."

"Is this pornography?"

Jake took a deep breath and shook his head as he said, "It's not porn! It's my wife! Sir."

With absolutely no expression on his face, Cyclone held out the photo for Jake to take. "Pick them up. I never want to see them again. And meet me in my office at 0700."

"Yes, sir," Jake ground out, and as soon as he walked away, Jake was crawling around on the floor, making sure he located each and every beautiful photo. He tucked them back into his book, silently thankful that none of his masterbatory materials had been confiscated or seen by anyone else. It was bad enough his commanding officer got to see your ass and tits. And now, as he headed back to his bunk, the apprehension set in. He didn't know what to expect at seven in the morning.

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Cyclone was still pissed. Jake made sure his uniform was spotless without any creases. Every single pin was straight. There was not a hair out of place on his head. But Simpson still scrutinized every part of him.

Then he surprised Jake. "I know what it's like to be away from your spouse, Lieutenant. I know how...challenging that can be. However, you will not be caught with that kind of material again. Or your formal reprimand will turn into a potential discharge."

A formal reprimand. Jake didn't have so much as a tardy note on his flawless record. Until now. "Yes, sir," he agreed, picturing the photos all wrapped up in an oversized envelope and tucked away in his duffle bag. Whatever his punishment was going to be, it was not good.

"Lieutenant, you'll give me three hundred pushups every morning while I drink my coffee on deck for the remainder of your deployment. And once we are back at Top Gun, that will continue in lieu of your lunch breaks. For a month."

"Yes, sir," Jake responded, shoulders squared.

"We'll start today," Admiral Simpson replied, and Jake followed him out onto the deck. The sunlight was bright, and he would have rather been dressed in anything other than his khaki uniform, but Jake did three hundred pushups while everyone working on deck watched. He did them while Cyclone sipped his mug of coffee. He did them while counting them off for himself. And he didn't complain. There was no time for him to change before his meeting, so then he got to sit in his own sweat for a few hours.

This went on for eighteen more days. By the end of his deployment, everyone knew Jake had been reprimanded. Everyone enjoyed the chance to watch his morning pushups and give him a hard time afterwards. But nobody knew how he had earned them. Not even Fanboy.

In fact, there was only one person who Jake would allow to know the truth, and he planned on making sure his wife took a little bit of the blame. And maybe a bit of her own punishment as well.

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

One more hour. Just an hour and Jake would be back. You were already waiting at the dock, hopelessly desperate to see your sweet husband. "Jake!" you shouted his name, jumping up and down and trying to fight through the crowd to get to him as soon as you saw him.

Oh, he looked so good, and when you finally reached him, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. "Jake, I missed you so much," you whispered against his lips, dragging your fingers up through his hair and then down his arms. "You're huge! How much were you working out?"

He wrapped one big hand around the back of your neck and you moaned for him. Right there on the dock. You whined his name as he held you in place. "Darlin'," he drawled, his big, thick fingers wrapping around your neck until you had to squeeze your thighs together. "I'm a little sore from all the push-ups."

"Push-ups?" you asked, reaching for him again, but his hand was firm on your neck. "Jake?" you whispered. "Please, let's go home. I need you."

But he just shook his head, kissed your forehead once and said, "You need to be punished. That's what you need, Darlin'. Now let's get you home and get started on that."

"Punished?" you asked, but he didn't say another word. He guided you through the crowd, his hand slipping down to spank your butt through your dress before he squeezed you.

"Yes," he replied, and once he got his bag and both of you settled in his truck and started the engine, he smirked at you. "You really loved the idea of me jerking off to those polaroids, didn't you, Darlin'?"

You moaned and ran your hands along your bare thighs as he drove toward home. "Yes. Did you love looking at them?"

"Oh, I sure did. But do you know who did not love looking at them?"

Your eyes went wide and you turned to look at him. "Who? Someone else saw them?"

Jake laughed sardonically as he glanced at you. Your head was swirling with embarrassment, but nothing prepared you for when he said, "Admiral Simpson caught me with them."

You gasped. "Your boss saw them?"

"He sure did, Darlin'. And he gave me a formal reprimand. On my perfect record."

"Jake," you whispered, your brain supplying a million questions. He prided himself on his perfect record, fifteen years in the making. He also prided himself on his relationships with his commanding officers. "How many pushups did you have to do?"

"Thousands."

"Oh shit. And it's going on your permanent record? Will you have more punishments when you go to work on Monday? What else happened? How did he see the photos?"

Jake pulled into the driveway and parked his truck. Then he unbuckled both his seatbelt and yours before reaching for you a little roughly. "You know what? I don't think I'm going to answer any of your questions until you share a little bit of my punishment. After all, you're the one who sent me away with the polaroids."

"Jake," you gasped as he squeezed your thighs and kissed you hard. He climbed out of the truck with you clinging to him. "I'm sorry, Jake. I didn't know you'd get in trouble."

"Hmmm," he hummed, setting you down as he dug out his house key and unlocked the door. He pushed the door open and followed you inside, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. "Seems like I remember you telling me how you'd love to suck my cock."

Your moan was loud and needy, and when you glanced down, you could see that your husband was hard in his uniform pants. "Let me do it," you begged. "Let me give you a blowjob."

He grasped your chin in his hand and forced your gaze back up to his green eyes. "You will," he promised, and you had to bite your lip to keep the pathetic little noises you wanted to make at bay. He kissed your forehead and added, "Just exactly the way I want it. Every day until my punishment has been lifted."

He pulled you closer still grasping your chin as you softly asked, "How do you want it?"

"Rough," he replied, and you whimpered as he guided you to the floor in front of him. "I want it rough, Darlin'. Think you can handle that?"

You were already unzipping his pants as you looked up at him. "Of course. But Jake... is it really a punishment if I want it so fucking badly?" you asked, dipping your hand inside his underwear and pulling him free. He was huge and hard and you had missed your husband so much. And you knew he'd take you to bed and give you whatever you wanted after you got to do this for him.

"You want it rough?" he asked, green eyes focused on your lips as you parted them and took his cock. When you nodded, sucking on his thick length, he grunted. He wrapped one hand around your neck and the other around the back of your head. "You feel so good. I'll make it rough for you."

And then with one smooth thrust, your hands were grabbing at his thighs as he hit the back of your throat. You sucked in a breath through your nose, and Jake stroked your neck with his thumb as you gagged. "Fuck," he gasped, pulling himself out until you were left licking and sucking on the tip, and then he rammed himself deep again.

You were trying to say his name as you gagged. Tears filled your eyes and saliva dripped down to your chest and the front of your dress. But your husband told you that you were such a good wife, the only one he wanted, and then he went a little faster.

"Jake," you gasped, taking a deep breath when he withdrew. But he used his big palm at the back of your head to push himself deep once again. He was groaning, and when you cupped his balls with your right hand, he went even faster. Quick little strokes gagged you, and the wet sounds were making you clench around nothing.

"A formal reprimand," he growled, and you took him the whole way and held him there as he licked his lips, and whispered, "Fuck, Darlin'." He gave you no warning. You gagged on his hot cum as he filled your throat. You tried to swallow him down, but you felt it drip out of the corners of your mouth. And then he withdrew and with a few strokes of his hand, he painted your face with the last of his ejaculate.

"Oh my god," you groaned, your throat sore and raspy as you wiped his cum from your cheek. But he was already pulling you to your feet, one arm wrapped around your waist as he kissed your neck.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

"Yes," you promised, licking your lips clean. "I loved that."

He groaned next to your ear. "I knew you would. I knew it wouldn't even be a proper punishment."

You wiped your face and licked your fingers clean. "You promised me I'd be getting punished as long as you were. You promised me, Jake."

Your husband kissed your lips and swiped his tongue into your mouth. "You really want to do that every day for the next month?"

"I can't believe you got in so much trouble for the polaroids," you whispered against his lips. "But you're crazy if you think I'm not going to take my own punishment like a champ."

"I love you," he crooned, holding you close. "It's good to be home."

"I missed you. And I'm sorry your photos got confiscated."

Jake chuckled, appraising you with those pretty green eyes. "Oh, I still have them."

"You still have them? But I thought Admiral Simpson-"

He kissed you hard again before he said, "I got off easy, Darlin'. I'd take a hundred formal reprimands as long as I get to keep those polaroids."

You rolled your eyes and took his hands in yours. "We can always make more."

"That's what I'm counting on," he drawled with a smile. "Now go grab the camera like a good girl and meet me in bed."

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Thanks for reading! I kind of missed writing for Jake! Maybe I'll do this a little more often. Thanks for @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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