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ddejavvu · 1 year

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Pizza Box Puzzle Pieces - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake is a responsible drinker, he swears. But when you're stuck being responsible for the night, a very drunk Jake gives you all but one piece to a puzzle you don't complete until the morning after.

Contents/Warnings: drinking, fem!reader, typical hangman behavior, enemies to lovers (really more like rivals to lovers)

Requested: A thousand times congratulations on such an amazing milestone! Could I please have an espresso w. enemies to lovers with Jake ‘hangman’ Seresin? ☀️ - @saintlike78 THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS SINCE SEPTEMBER I AM SO SORRY MY LOVE i hope you still like hangman <3

WC: 5.3K / navi

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Jake Seresin is a responsible drinker. He keeps a rideshare app on his phone, he tells Bob (the permanent sober babysitter) that he needs to be cut off after 10:00 PM, and he gives Penny his keys before he even orders his first drink.

Tonight, though, she'd left them unattended. There they were, shiny and appealing, sitting on the bar. She had left to get a clean dishrag, he could just take them! Driving sounded fun now, less of a chore and more of an adventure now that his brain was blurry.

You watch Jake's eyes widen as he catches sight of his keys, and your hand darts out to snag them before he can. His reflexes are slow, and when he reaches for them, his hand hits empty counter space.

He looks around, bewildered. They'd just disappeared.

"Here, Bagman." You jingle the keys in your hand, and he catches the sound from the few seats down where he's sitting. His eyes drift aimlessly over to your hand, and brighten at the sight of his keys.

"Thanks," He drawls, his southern lilt far more noticeable now that he's running on autopilot, "I'm gonna-" he hiccups hard, his chest bouncing, "Head home."

He stands, wobbly on his feet, and treads forwards to take the keys from you. You raise them above your head, but he doesn't follow, instead slumping forwards as his hand grasps at thin air. His head hits your chest and Coyote catches your eye from over Jake's shoulder. You widen your eyes, flaunting the keys you'd managed to snatch from him.

All the pilot does is laugh, and then his attention is shifted back to the dartboard. Typical.

"Jesus," You grunt, pushing at Jake's chest. He straightens up again, eyes blinking open from where they'd been shut, "What did you drink?"

"I don't remember," He admits, and that's all the explanation you need.

"Come on," You reach for his pocket, his phone sticking out, "Let's call you a ride."

"Nooo," He darts away, almost too late to evade you, "That's my phone."

"Yes Hangman," You smirk, "I think you're smarter drunk than you are sober."

"But that's-" He fumbles with his cell, "You can't touch my phone."

"I want to get you home," You urge, once more reaching for the device in his hands, "Don't you want to go to sleep?"

"You can't have it," He insists, yanking the waistband of his khakis off of his stomach and slipping his phone dangerously close to his crotch, "Unless you-" Another hiccup that flutters his eyelashes, "-wanna take it."

The smirk he shoots you after shoving his phone down his pants contains lethal cockiness. You're surprised the sheer size of his ego doesn't knock you down, you're not sure how you're standing so close to him without running into it.

You glance down at his phone. It's protruding just enough from his waistband for it to be quick and easy to grab. But your hand has never been that close to Jake's dick before, and you're hoping it never will be.

"Fuck," You deflate, shoulders slumping as your fingers curl tighter around his keys, "Come on, I'm driving you."

"Take my car," He insists, as if he's forgotten you have his keys, "It's.. It's really cool."

"Can't wait," You gripe, slinging his arm around your shoulders, "Come on, one foot in front of the other, Seresin."

The cold night air hits you like a tsunami. It floods your thin shirt and seeps into your bones, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. You've never known it to get this cold here, and the skin-to-skin that Jake's shoulder provides against your own is your only warmth.

You prop him up against his car while you fumble with the keys, but before you can click the 'unlock' button, he's snatching them from you.

"I wanna- I wanna do it," He insists, gripping the pointed end and bumping it up against the panel on the outside of the keyhole, "It's my car, I wanna.. do it."

You give him a minute to figure out the key. After it passes you yank it from where he's been pathetically butting it up against the hole, still confused about how to slot it inside.

"Gimme," You grumble, sliding the key into the hole with barely a second's delay, "You're too drunk for this."

"I'm not drunk." He scoffs. He says it with so much sincerity, with so much raw belief, that you're surprised that it doesn't come into existence. You're surprised the alcohol doesn't drain from his system completely, and leave him his usual coordinated, upright self. But he's still leaning against his car, half-coherent and dizzy.

"Right." You chuckle, throwing open the driver's side door and unlocking the rest of the car, "Get in, Hangman."

He starts for your seat and you shove him away, "No, not the driver's seat," You groan, "Other side."

He starts for the backseat.

"For fuck's sake," You exclaim, grabbing his bicep to lead him around the car, "The passenger's side!"

You get him wrestled into his seat with no further drunken antics, and you relish the fact that you've gotten him calm for the night. He's anything but when you finally glance up at his face, though, great big tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

"You're mean." He whispers, his voice shaky. You've never seen such a pitiful sight, his big green eyes brimming with anguish that seeps down his cheeks in rivers of tears. "You grabbed me, and-" He waves his bicep at you, "And you manhandled me," He gushes, angst-stricken, "You're mean!"

"I'm sorry," You sigh, playing into his inebriated sorrow, "Are you okay, Hangman?"

He doesn't note the sarcasm in your voice, sniffling pathetically, "No. It hurts."

You offer a quick pat to the affected area, but he shakes his head.

"Kiss." He offers in explanation, 'Kiss it better."

"I am not going to-" You begin, rage evident in your voice. Then you glance back up at his eyes, filled with new tears.

It's a staring contest for a moment, but you break first. You hunch, bracing yourself for the most humiliating thing you've ever had to do when you pucker your lips and press them into his bicep.

It's firm. Fuck, you wish it wasn't, it holds up under your lips and warms them. It's intoxicating, your lips on his skin, so close to his chest. It's exhilarating. You have to get away.

"There." You grouse, practically glaring at him despite the blush at your cheeks as you straighten, "Better?"

"Yes," He whimpers, and it's small, broken, pathetic, "Thank you."

You shut the door without another word, letting him wipe his own tears.

His car is surprisingly nice. Where you'd expect fast food wrappers and condoms, you find an air freshener.

He grabs it excitedly, shoving it into your face as you start down the road, "Darlin' you gotta- gotta smell! It smells like ocean breeze."

It slips over your eyes and you strain to get away from it, "Okay, Hangman, okay! It smells very nice," You gush, giving him the attention he's seeking. He preens proudly as he hooks it around his mirror once more, but he doesn't settle into his seat.

"Those are cool jeans," He prods a finger at your thigh, and even though you know it's drunken rather than lustful, his touch makes you shiver.

"They were five dollars," You humor him, feeling him fiddle carefully with the ripped strands of fraying string showcasing your skin.

"Cheap." He murmurs, concentration far too heavy on rearranging the strings. Half of them have ripped beyond repair from where they were stretched over your thigh, but he seems to be playing with them like they're yarn to a housecat. You have the sudden urge to run a hand through his hair and see if he purrs.

"My house is that way," Jake points blearily through the windshield down a one-way street, "It's the big blue one."

"You live in an apartment," You turn the wheel in the opposite direction, "And it's not blue, and it's not that way."

"Oh so you-" He hiccups, "-know where I live?"

"I do," You nod, keeping your eyes on the road even when his fingers keep pawing at your jeans, "I've been there before. Remember? We had a movie night."

"Oh yeah," He nods, brow furrowed, "Payback spilled his water on my carpet."

"Not water," You snort, remembering the cheap liquor spilled over the shag, "But yeah, he did."

There's a bout of silence that follows your words, shadows ripping through the car as you pass beneath trees. The road is paved unevenly in a few spots, and Jake's car bounces on its tires.

"Woah," He grumbles, head bumping your shoulder after a particularly raucous pothole, "Look! Look they're in a- a heart."

You slow to a stop in front of his apartment and glance down to where his finger is digging into your thigh. The loose strings on your jeans have all been twisted and tied into a heart that overlays the rip, puffy and frayed where it rests against your leg.

"Oh," You let the sincerity of the gesture steal the breath from your lungs, even if it does come out of a drunk man, "That's pretty, Hangman. Thanks."

You unlatch your seatbelt, breaking his trance. The heart, tied at the bottom and woven through other strands at its apexes, stays tightly knotted into your jeans, and you wonder if you'll ever be able to get it out. It's the last of your concerns, though, as Jake fumbles with his own seatbelt.

He finally jabs just right at the button, though it's after a string of mumbled frustrations. You swear you hear something along the lines of "You're pretty." thrown into the mix, but you choose to ignore it so that your hands don't get sweaty. You probably misheard.

It's a wonder that he's able to get himself out of the car. He lands with a crunch of gravel onto the driveway of his apartment, feet planted firmly beneath him. You suppose he might have sobered slightly during the long, quiet drive, and you're just glad you don't have to press him to yourself anymore to keep him upright.

Thankfully, he knows which door is his, but he forgets that you have his keys. You keep a hand stuffed into your pocket, curled around them, while he fumbles in his pocket for them.

“Damn,” He hisses, patting his pockets and coming up empty, “My- my keys are gone. I think someone took them, we have to-”

“I have your keys,” You’re far too smug as you hold them up, the ring hooked over your middle finger, “Remember? That’s why I drove?”

“Oh.” His brows furrow, and the word adorable flashes through your head before you can stop it. As soon as you acknowledge it, though, it’s gone in a puff of smoke.

“I’ll do it.” You carefully shoo his hands away from the door, slipping the key in and turning it. His apartment is neat, you’ll give him that, but you suppose it’s because he doesn’t have time to mess it up. You toe off your shoes in the doorway, leaving them in a heap which he contributes to. His boots are going to muck up your white wedges, but you can’t care about that right now. What’s more important is making sure Hangman doesn’t head straight for his own liquor stash, which of course, he does.

“No,” You rush for the bottle he’s about to grab, “You’re cut off for the night. Remember?”

“No,” His brow furrows, and he stares at your fingers wrapped around his own against the neck of the bottle, “I don’t.”

At least you know he’s being honest. You pry his hand off of the bottle, setting it back on the counter and letting go of his fingers. You expect them to drop but they don’t, they curl around your own and slot your palms together.

You stiffen but he doesn’t seem to notice, his hand still enveloping yours in a gesture that sends heat rushing up from your fingertips and straight to your heart. You glance down first, then up at him, finding a gooey, lovesick smile on his face paired with empty eyes.

“Hi, darlin’.” He gushes, and squeezes your hand.

Fuck.

“Okay, bedtime.” You decide, trying to pry your hand out of his grip. He won’t let you, though, the more you pull the closer he gets. Until he’s pressed to you, his right thigh to your left, chest-to-chest, smiling contently at you.

If you can’t make him let go, you suppose you can move. So you do, you lead him through the short hallway, and flick the light on in his bedroom. His room is.. less neat. There’s clothes on the floor, and what looks dangerously like an old pizza box sticking out from under the bed. You decide to ignore it for time’s sake, your main goal is to get Jake into bed before he tips over.

He looks close to it now, stumbling towards his nightstand to snatch a necklace off of it. It’s a delicate silver chain, and there’s a pretty heart pendant on it.

“Look,” He shows it off, “‘S my mom’s. She gave it to me before I came down here.”

“That’s very sweet,” You croon, and all of a sudden you want to know more about Mama Seresin, “I think I’d like to see you wear that someday, Hangman.”

“That’d look silly.” He muses, eyes shiny as they rove over the charm, finally putting it down to look back at you, “But if you’d really like it I’ll do it.”

You suppose that if anything comes out of his drunken stupor, it’ll be a hell of a lot of blackmail material. Apparently he’s blabby when drunk, and you’ll definitely ask why he’s not wearing his mom’s necklace tomorrow when you meet for breakfast.

“Okay, Jake, let’s get you changed.” You hum, glancing around his room and peering apprehensively at his dresser. You turn back, intent on asking him which drawers you should avoid opening, and are met with-

“Jake! Put- put your pants back on!”

Your hands fly to your eyes to shield yourself from the sight of Jake Seresin’s Uncovered Crotch, but you forget that he’s still clinging tight to you, and he stumbles along with you. All you can do is let out a strangled cry as his outer thigh presses against yours, praying nothing else will.

“Put your boxers back on,” You beg, “And- and get into pajamas! Oh my god.”

“Yeah,” Jake giggles, far too inebriated to read the room, “That’s what they all say.”

“I hate you,” You groan, and finally, he lets go of your hand.

There’s absolute silence for too long, but just before you can urge him to hurry up and get dressed, he speaks.

“You do?”

HIs voice is unlike you’ve ever heard it. Jake has a particular talent for boasting, and his voice often bleeds confidence, loud and strong and clear. Now it’s small, unsure and weak.

“Get dressed,” You huff, “With pants, please.”

You’re not eager to admit it, but you don’t hate him. Not at all. Sure, he annoys you, but he annoys everyone. He shoves confetti through the slats in your locker so that opening it triggers a snowstorm, he steals food from your plate when his own is nearly full, and he always, always knocks his knuckles against your helmet. But he’s never mean, he’s never insulted you or pushed you or demeaned you. So you can’t find it in yourself to hate him, even if you don’t always like him.

Or maybe you do. Maybe you bite back a smile when you find confetti on the ground, and maybe you bend over with your back to him just in case he likes what he sees. Maybe you steal his food right back, and maybe the best part of your day is when you make it a competition, and he practically crawls over Fanboy to try to nab a piece of your orange chicken. Maybe the rapping of his knuckles on your helmet makes you want to respond by bumping it against his chest, an urge you’ve never dared to act on.

Feigning hatred is much easier, you’ve found, than admitting love.

His voice cuts through your thoughts, still devoid of its usual enthusiasm, “I’m dressed.”

You let your hands fall to your sides with a relieved sigh, and though your vision is somewhat bleary from being covered for so long, you work with it, blinking until you can see his form, already under the covers on his bed and facing away from you.

“Okay,” You hum awkwardly, glancing around the room, “You’re gonna need medicine in the morning. And water, so-”

“Pills are in the bathroom cabinet, there’s a cup on the counter.” He drawls, voice muffled by his pillow.

You bustle off to gather those, and when you reenter his bedroom you find him staring at the wall. It’s a sad expression, an empty one, but you suppose that’s what binge drinking does to a man.

“I’m gonna head out,” You speak to his back, setting the pills and glass down on his nightstand, “Are you.. gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” He hums, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” You mumble, more than ready to flee the awkward scene, “Bye, Jake.”

“Do you really hate me?”

You freeze in the doorway, heart thudding in your chest. You turn slow, your eyes meeting Jake’s before your body faces him, giving you enough time to figure out a response.

“No,” You speak carefully, “I- I was just teasing, Jake. I don’t hate you.”

“You’re sure?” He peers up anxiously at you, looking more like a scared child than a naval aviator, “You really don’t?”

“I’m sure,” You nod, gracing him with a soft smile to soothe his nerves, “I don’t hate you, Jake.” “Okay,” He breathes, his frown flattening out into a neutral expression as his eyes drink you in, “Thanks, Y/N. For taking care of me.”

“Anytime,” You promise, and you mean it more than you’ll let on, “Get some rest, Jake, we’re meeting for breakfast at nine tomorrow.”

He nods, and that’s your cue to leave. Your shoes are still by the door, and you slip them on, fiddling with the straps. When you straighten up from where you’d hunched over you spot Jake’s keys where you’d left them on his entryway table, and realize he won’t know where they are in the morning. You don’t want him to panic, so you scoop them up, knowing that his door auto-locks behind him as a part of the apartment’s security features. You’ll be able to leave without the keys, and he won’t be at risk overnight.

You pad quietly back into his room, intent on setting the keys by the glass of water and leaving. But you realize that he’s already asleep, the magic of booze eliciting soft, even breaths from him that ricochet off of the pillow he’s smushed against and blow his hair back. You stifle a giggle at the sight, and pride yourself for how much self control it takes not to record it.

You set the keys down, and your heel catches on the pizza box beneath his bed. Your nose wrinkles, and you decide there’s no good reason for Jake to be keeping old food under his bed, of all places.

You pick it up and it feels nearly empty, prompting confusion on your part. Pizza is not weightless.

Maybe you should, maybe you shouldn’t, but you decide to flip the lid open. You brace the box on his nightstand and pop the top, your eyes landing on a collection of memorabilia inside, not cheese and bread.

You recognize a chubby baby as Jake himself, a slightly aged photo that looks delicate. You bite back a soft smile, but decide that his baby pictures are none of your business, fingers ghosting over the lid to shut it once more now that you know he’s not hoarding Papa John’s beneath his mattress.

Just before the lid closes, your heart stops. Your eyes catch a picture of just about the last face you’d ever expect to see in a pizza box under Jake Seresin’s bed: your own. It’s a picture of you talking to Payback, eyes shut and crinkled at the corners, mouth open in a laugh you’re sure was less-than-graceful at whatever the other aviator had said. You pick the photo up, pushing away a jewelry box that’s lying on top of its corner, and finding dozens more of your squadron beneath it. There’s one flipped on its front, and Jake’s scrawled sharpie over it, ‘Rooster being dumb. 6-07-2022.’

Upon inspection, the photo is of Bradley making a fool of himself. He’s halfway to the ground, foot caught in the sand as he topples over. You remember that day, you’d all laughed when he’d emerged with a mustache-full of sand.

You flip the photo of yourself, brows furrowing when the description is less-than-understandable.

‘Third time. 5-03-2021.’

Third time.. Third time you’d… laughed at Payback’s jokes? Definitely not, he’s quick on his toes and surprisingly witty.

Thumbing through each photo of you and your friends, the descriptions are all simple. ‘Natasha losing a bet’ showcases her rare defeated look, and of course Jake would have that documented. ‘Fanboy exhaling lemonade’ is self-explanatory, the substance shooting out of his nose in response to the Bradley-Sand-Mustache incident. The only ones you can’t figure out are your own, ‘First time. 4-25-2020’, ‘Second time. 10-10-2020’, and even, ‘Relapse. 9-14-2022;.

For the life of you, you can’t figure them out. You realize that you’ve been sifting through Hangman’s personal possessions far longer than you should have been, stuffing them all back inside the pizza box and sliding it beneath his bed. Something strange and confusing clouds your brain as you make your way to the front door, and you barely remember to listen for the click of the automatic lock when you leave.

Your apartment isn’t far from Jake’s, it’s only a few streets down, and you’d hitched a ride with Omaha to the Hard Deck anyways. You won’t make him pick you up to drive you three blocks.

There’s something infuriating about knowing that Jake writes about you in code. It’s like a mental game, and you’re losing. You ponder it all the way back to your apartment, and you dig your own keys out of your pocket to get yourself inside.

Your determination to figure Jake’s code out only transforms into insomnia, and you fall asleep at nearly three in the morning, alarms set for five hours ahead, wondering if you’ll ever find out what they mean.

Surprisingly, for how you’d left him last night, Jake is the first one to show up to Team Breakfast. Your typical spot at the local cafe is inhabited by none other than Hangman, checking his watch to see how late everyone was running so far.

“You’re here early,” You marvel, and his head shoots up to meet your gaze. He grins sheepishly, nodding, “I had too much of a headache to go back to sleep.”

“Oooh,” You laugh, “Tough luck.”

“Yeah. Reckon’ I drank a lot last night?” He asks, already grimacing in expectation of your response.

You take a particular pleasure in nodding, “You tried kissing Bradley.”

He hadn’t, at least, not on this particular occasion. Rooster has gotten his fair share of Drunk Hangman Love, as have you all, but this time he’d stayed away from anything too intimate.

“Shit,” Hangman grimaces, screwing his eyes up and plunking his chin to his chest, “I thought you said Bob was gonna start watching out for that?”

“He did,” You snort, “He saw it about to happen, and left before you could do it to him. He watched out for himself.”

Jake mumbles something, probably along the lines of ‘typical’, but it’s as he raises his head again, and the glint of something silver at his neck catches your eye. You squint, hard, glimpsing a familiar heart-shaped pendant pressed to his chest and outlined beneath his shirt.

“Oh my god,” You laugh, “The necklace! You’re really wearing it.”

He bites back a smirk and fits his lips to the rim of his water glass instead, “I told you I’d wear it. I’m no chicken.”

“Send a picture to your mom,” You suggest, “Tell her you’ve got her heart with you.”

His smile dims, something apprehensive in his eyes.

“You went through the box under my bed last night, didn’t you?”

You still at the question, your eyes wide, “What?”

“I heard you,” He admits, “I’m- I��m not mad, or anything. I just.. I know you did.”

“I’m sorry,” Even if he’s not upset, you feel awkward, like a kid caught elbow-deep in the cookie jar, “It was none of my business, I shouldn’t have-”

“No,” He shakes his head, reaching back for the clasp on the necklace, “It was your business. Is, if..” He hesitates, face screwed up in concentration.

“Y/N,” He finally continues, necklace now pinched between his fingers, “This isn’t my mom’s.”

“Oh?” You pry cautiously, “Who’s is it, then?”

“Yours.” He admits, and your brows furrow.

“It’s not mine, I’ve never had one like that. I- I guess someone must have left it at your apartment or something, maybe Phoenix?”

“No,” He sighs, eyes screwed shut, “I mean- I mean I bought it for you.”

“You,, you bought that necklace.. for me?”

“Yeah,” He nods, “Did you see the box in there?”

You nod, recalling the teal case.

“I bought it for you for your birthday last year. Chickened out before I could give it to you, though. That’s why I had to give you half a bottle of whiskey.”

His lackluster birthday present made a lot more sense now.

“I know you saw the pictures I’ve got of you,” He continues, keeping his eyes on the pendant of the necklace that he’s pressing against his thumb, “I just thought.. I’d get everything off my chest.”

“First time..” You recall, and he raises his eyes to you questioningly.

“The pictures of me,” You prompt him, “On the back, you had little.. notes? Captions? Whatever, they said first time, second time, third time, relapse. What did those mean?”

He stares at you, the prolonged eye contact making you squirm.

“You sure you don’t hate me?” He asks, just as timid as he had the night before.

“Jake- of course I don’t hate you!” You promise, “Just- tell me, please?”

“They’re every time I fell in love with you.” He murmurs, and your entire world stops spinning. You’ve built it carefully on a foundation of Jake-directed sarcasm and a healthy distance away from your fellow aviator, and when the word ‘love’ slips from his lips the foundation crumbles. You feel everything collapse, every witty comeback, every dramatic eye-roll, every logical pushback. Nothing remains, except love. The word, the feeling, the sound of it coming from his mouth.

Apparently the demolition of your entire world takes too much time. Jake cringes, tucking the necklace into his fist and going to pocket it, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- fuck, I should have just shut my mouth. I won’t bring it up again, we can just forget this, and-”

“Stop,” You reach for his hand, covering his closed fist with your open palm, “Give me the necklace.”

He unfurls his hand, slowly, unsurely. His eyes linger on you, and he watches as you carefully scoop the jewelry from his palm, your fingers delicately brushing over the heart.

“You really love me?” You verify, keeping your eyes on the silver charm so that if this is some sick joke, you won’t see him break the facade. You won’t see the adoration in his eyes turn to mockery, the love to hatred.

“I really do,” He promises, “And I know that I’m not the best at communicating that…”

“What with the constant teasing and badgering?” You glance up at him for the first time since his confession, your view of his face obscured by your lashes.

“Yeah,” He grimaces, “That.”

“Can I be honest with you, Jake?” You bite the inside of your cheek, regretting admitting what you’re about to say before you’ve even said it.

“Yeah,” He breathes, and you think he expects the worst.

“I kind of like it,” You admit, and his frown breaks.

“I knew it,” He gloats, his grin wide and bright, “I knew there was a reason you never say anywhere I couldn’t steal your food.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You groan, closing your fist around the necklace, “I haven’t responded to your confession yet, have I, Seresin? Don’t get too cocky.”

As much as you’re teasing him, he takes it seriously. His grin dims, and his eyes soften, worry pooling in his irises.

“I..” You start, eyes on the heart that still lies in the rips of your jeans instead of his own gaze, “I love you, too.”

“You do?” You think you’re starting to like his voice when it’s not brash and cocky, instead sincere and a little timid.

“I do,” You nod, glancing back up at him, “And.. I don’t really know what to do about that. I tried to ignore it, because we work together, and because I wasn’t sure you liked me back, but.. I do love you, Jake.”

“That,” He smiles, real and genuine, “Is something I’ve wanted to hear you say for years, darlin;.”

“Well. you should thank your inebriated self last night,” You laugh, letting him take the necklace from your fist and unclasp it, “You’re very touchy when you’re drunk, and I may or may not have seen your penis.”

“That’s.. not something I remember.” Jake grimaces, pausing with the necklace open in his hands, “Was it.. I mean- did you.. like it?”

“Quit while you’re ahead,” You advise Jake, leaning forwards so that he can wrap his arms around your neck, “I’m not talking about your dick at brunch with our friends.”

“They’re not here yet,” He murmurs, and when you lock eyes, you take in the fact that he’s only inches from your face.

There’s a soft click as he clasps the necklace against the base of your hairline, then he drops it to your neck. The chain is cold, but Jake’s hands are warm where they smooth over your cheeks. You let your lashes flutter shut, lips already slightly puckered, waiting for the press of his own over them. You can’t be but a hair’s breadth away from kissing Jake when a shrill scream comes from the parking lot, and your eyes snap open with a start.

You turn, but he doesn’t release your face, instead pressing his cheek to yours as you both look for the culprit. It’s not Natasha you find with her hands clamped over her mouth, but Rooster, though the former is smirking.

“We carpooled,” She informs you, elbowing Bradley in the side, “We were only five minutes late, and you guys have already sucked face?”

“I gave her the necklace,” Hangman reaches over to show off the charm around your neck, “I, uh- asked for Phoenix’s help buying it. I didn’t know what you’d like.”

“Thanks,” You laugh sheepishly, though you’re not sure who you’re talking to. Maybe both of them, “Uh, is that Fanboy’s car?”

It is, tires crunching against spare bits of asphalt as he turns into the parking lot.

“Coyote’s in there, too,” Hangman groans, pulling back from where you’d been smushed together, “Let’s hope they didn’t see.”

“Oh, we’ll tell them,” Natasha promises, and her laugh can only be described as maniacal, “They each owe me $20, they thought she’d say no.”

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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seresinhangmanjake · 1 year

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Jealous Jake and the Biting Problem

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin is your friend with benefits, but he doesn’t appreciate finding the evidence of your other sleepover buddy on your body.

Warnings: talk of and almost oral (f receiving), cursing, um…that might be it. That said, it’s still 18+

Note: I wrote this in about a half hour so don’t judge. I’m sure there are mistakes.

Words: 989

Jealous Jake Masterlist

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You lay with your back flat against your mattress. He pushes your skirt up around your waist, kissing every bare piece of skin as he makes his way down between your legs. With a firm hand he spreads your thighs further and you shiver from his breath softly caressing your pussy.

But then he pauses.

“Wh–” he begins, and you hear the question in his tone before he asks it. “What is this?”

Supported by your elbows, you lean up and peer past your skirt to see his eyes glued to a specific spot on your inner thigh. He runs his finger over the sensitive skin.

“Oh,” you say, “A, uh…bite, I think.” You rub at your temple, trying to gather the foggy drunken memories from the night before. “Yea, definitely a bite.”

His eyes meet yours, anger swirling in mossy-green irises. “Some other guy bit you?”

“Once or twice.”

“Twice?” he snaps, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. “Some other guy bit you twice. Where’s the other one?”

You chuckle when he starts to scan over all visually accessible pieces of your body for similar bruises. “I don’t know, somewhere. I didn’t really keep track, Jake.”

His stare clashes with yours. “So there could be more?”

“I–I guess,” you say, unable to process the rapidity of his questions with your brain still in its aroused haze. “Can we stop talking about this, please? Are you going to eat me out or what?”

Jake stands and you get the full view of his belt buckle hanging open, likely undone when he’d settled between your thighs so he could stroke himself as he licked you–before he got distracted, that is.

He runs long fingers through his hair and chuckles dryly, looking like he’s trying to tamp down a panic attack. “No, I can’t focus now.”

“What!”

His eyes are wild as his hand gestures up and down the length of your body. “You’ve got marks on you that I didn’t make! That’s all I'm going to be able to think about.”

“Jake, are you serious?”

Those hands land on his hips; chest rising and falling at an unusual pace, especially for Jake, who’s rarely anything other than calm, cool, and collected, occasionally even in the midst of absolutely wrecking one another.

“Yes!”

Shrugging as best you can in your position, you say, “Ok, I’ll tell him to back off with the biting. No big deal.”

“Yea, tell him to keep his biters to himself,” he grumbles, “and then he needs to move a hundred miles away.”

At this point, you’re well aware that your dripping pussy is unlikely to be satisfied, so you sit up and let your skirt fall to bunch at the tops of your thighs. “You sound like such a child.”

He releases a scoff and, arm fully extended, points a finger at the door of your bedroom as if the other man is just outside, hanging out in your living room and making himself at home in Jake’s territory. “He’s the one with the biting habit of an annoying toddler!”

“You’ve bitten me too.”

“That is completely different!”

“Because it was you?”

“Exactly!”

You nod and wait for him to take a few breaths to allow for his voice to drop to its usual octave. When he looks calm enough, with a snort you ask, “Should I just get a tattoo below my belly button that says ‘No biting unless you’re Jake Seresin?’.”

“More like ‘No fucking unless you’re Jake Seresin’,” he mumbles under his breath, but you hear it so clearly he might as well have whispered it in your ear.

“Excuse me?”

By the look on his face, he knows he’s been caught. His brow is knitted, lips folded in though it’s way too late to keep his mouth shut. He groans, spits out a curse, shifts his weight to his other foot. “I’m not seeing other women,” he says, calmly for the first time in the night. “I don’t want to, because I only want you, and I want you to only want me.”

If not for the faint pink shade making its way over his cheeks, you’d have thought yourself crazy for hearing those words. Jake Seresin and relationships did not go hand-in-hand as far as you knew. But then again, the two of you started sleeping together about three hours after Phoenix introduced you at the Hard Deck, and relationships never came up. She had joked that he was trouble, but he never actually told you himself that he wasn’t willing to sign his name in the Big Book of Monogamous Men. And you’d be kidding yourself to say you haven’t thought of it. You have a chemistry with him you’ve never known with another man, and when you go out together you always have fun. And you do like him. Plain and simple.

You smirk, but he still looks nervous. “Well, you could’ve just said so.”

“What?”

Rising to your knees, you inch towards him until you’re at the edge of the mattress, your chest flush against his. He’s still frozen as a statue when you wrap your arms around his neck. “Jake, I don’t feel anything for him.” You press a kiss to the line of his jaw, and then another before you pull back. “It’s not like how it is with you. So if you want me, I’m yours.”

His eyes go wide and his lips part from his slackening jaw, then he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing harshly in his throat. “Really? Just like that?”

“I know. Crazy, huh?”

He finally loosens his stiff limbs. His hands fall to their natural place on your waist, fingers pressing into your skin and tugging you impossibly closer. “Fucking insane,” he whispers as he leans in, “But I’m not about to argue with my girl,” and his lips meet yours.

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tags (if you’re crossed out, it didn’t work for some reason. If I spelled it wrong, let me know) @marvel-ousnesss @thespeeder @nobody7102 @marrianena @fangirlingoverfangirls @blue-aconite @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @dempy @chaoticassidy @alana4610 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @dracosluvbot @smoothdogsgirl @smit41 @wkndwlff @rileyloves5 @gigisimsonmars @hangmanbrainrot @withakindheartx @izzzzy-the-amazing @topguncultleader

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stargazing15 · 1 year

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A dad Jake blurb

Because dad Jake, I don't think there is any other explanation necessary.

Sorry, my brain can't come up with a title

Enjoy!

***

He was proud, so fucking proud of himself.

Jake had the week off and came to you with the proposal to take care of everything to lift some weight of your shoulders. Of course typical Jake, to gain some much deserved mommy & daddy time with a big smirk on his face.

So you made your husband the list, oh yeah the list with everything: grocery shopping, your daughter's schedule (from kindergarten to toddler gymnastics and what not to forget to bring with you), cleaning, ironing and not to forget the cooking. Maybe you were going to take over the ironing, just to keep all the clothes safe from burns.

Back to the present. He was walking from his car to the gate of the school, flaunting with your daughter on one hand and her backpack in his other. Sunglasses on, a tight white t-shirt showing off the muscles underneath and his dog tags visible. Jake had always liked the attention his looks attracted, but only yours and your daughter's mattered to him.

He flexed his armmuscles now and then so that every boy in your daughter's class knew not to mess with her, Jake was making sure of that, she has a strong daddy. All the 4 year olds were looking at him with their mouths open, so did their moms.

Now it was official, your daughter was holding the title of kid with the hottest coolest dad.

"He is eyecandy." "Look at him." "I am so going to get a divorce and mark him." "I call dibbs on him."

The comments stroked his ego, but he didn't care about them anymore, so he ignored them, giving all his attention to the little girl holding his hand.

After his little catwalk moment with your daughter, though Jake crumbled and got on his knees to hug the little girl and wave her goodbye.

He was proud, very proud, he brought her finally to kindergarten by himself. He could do it, everything.

"Jake!" Oh, that is a familiar voice.

There were you, did you forget he was bringing her to school?

"Forget something?" He quickly imagined the bring to kindergarten-list en checked off everything.

"Nope sweets. Everything has been taken care off."

You bring forth the lunchbox you were hiding behind your back. "Lunchbox?"

"Oh. Here sweetheart, dad forgot your lunchbox, good thing we still have mommy. Give her a kiss and go conquer school. Have fun." He said while putting the lunchbox in her backpack.

"Bye mommy, bye daddy!" And off she was.

"He is married?" "That's his wife?"

"How lucky am I that I have you? I love you sweets."

"Very lucky, love you too Jakey." He kissed you in front of all the moms, he kissed you with so much love and passion that you were already looking forward to the mommy & daddy time later today.

"Ew mommy and daddy!" You both heard your daughter scream from the playground.

Jake was a proud man, very proud that he can call himself your husband.

***

Taglist: @mrsjaderogers @bradleybeachbabe @cycbaby @mavrellover91 @iamdannyday @rhirhikingston @luckyladycreator2 @xoxabs88xox @jstarr86

Tagform

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman #hangman drabble #jake seresin drabble #dad hangman #dad jake seresin #hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine #hangman fluff #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you

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witchwyfe · 11 months

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Can I send in “no, you can stay. i don’t mind.” for roommate Jake pls? Something about that cocky boy being soft only for his girl just gets me!!

trp!Jake 'hangman' seresin x female reader

"No, you can stay. I don't mind."

YES i agree bestie<3 thanks for requesting

You hadn’t realized that Bradley’s “small get together” had turned into a rager. Him and his girlfriend Melanie, had invited all of their friends, who also invited friends, and now their small, shared condo, is packed with people.

You had come with Jake, you technically got invited by both Bradley and Melanie, being her best friend. So for the majority of the evening, you, Melanie, and Natasha sat in the kitchen, sipping on wine and gossiping.

Now it’s creeping past one am and Natasha’s roommate already came to pick her up, and Melanie is drunkenly snuggling Bradley in the recliner you’d helped them move into the place when they bought it. People are slowly starting to clear out, but there’s still a good handful of people lingering.

The wine has gone to your head a little, and you stumble over to where Jake is shoved into the corner of the couch, talking to Bradley, who’s got Melanie in his lap while he rubs her back.

“Jake,” You whisper, tripping over a set of feet next to him. He’s quick to steady you, grabbing you by your waist and deftly pulling you into his lap.

“Hey darlin’,” He greets with a smile. “You all right?”

“Hm-mm.” You nod, a dazed smile on your face. “Came over to say hi, and I tripped.”

Jake glares at the unsuspecting owner of the feet you happened to trip over. “You wanna hang for a bit, or you ready to go home?”

Home. The fact that he says it, and his familiar tone settles nicely in your chest, sticky warmth spreading throughout your body.

“Stay for a little?” You wonder. “Then go home and watch tv?”

“Whatever you want.”

You nod, pleased, cheeks warming when you realize you’ve been staring at Jake’s smile for a little too long. You move to slide off his lap, and before Jake even realizes what he’s doing, his hands fly to your waist, squeezing gently.

“No," He starts, tugging you even closer to him. "You can stay. I don’t mind.”

You smile, leaning farther back into him, shoulder against his chest. He’s rubbing the back of your head and you’re starting to drift off before you even know it.

Jake’s too busy watching you to realize he never went back to his conversation with Bradley. And when he looks up, said man is giving him a smirk, raising an eyebrow. Jake simply flips him off and returns his attention fully to you.

#my writing #my work #witchwfye #witchwyfe writing #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun: maverick fanfiction #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake seresin oneshot #jake seresin blurb #jake seresin drabble #the roommate predicament

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spasmsofthought · 10 months

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you fell hard, I thought good riddance (j.s. x reader)

An angsty thing inspired by “Best” by Gracie Abrams. (I wrote this at work cause I had the free time and couldn’t help myself.) Let me know what you think! (Probably some inaccuracies, especially if you squint - my step-dad may have done a career in the Navy, but I did and will not lol.) Wrote this all at once, so please have grace for any spelling or grammar mistakes. xo

https://open.spotify.com/track/5HO2RD12vZ5NcIdAULo43M?si=0ce82485daa44829

+++

Jake knows what he did.

While not at the forefront of his mind, it weighs on the deepest part of his consciousness and he’s reminded of what he did in what feels like the most random moments.

When he’s swallowing the last drops of beer in the bottle that’s pressed to his mouth. Or when he’s standing on the beach as the waves are softly rolling against the shore and it’s quiet. Or when he ends up on the couch watching crappy television at 3 a.m. because his flashbacks are keeping him awake and the moment his eyes close, he feels like he’s startled awake because a brightly-colored ad is flashing on the TV screen.

He sees you every once and a while, he thinks. Whether it’s when he’s tipsy at The Hard Deck and sees someone turn the corner who looks just enough like you from the back. Someone can laugh just the right way down the hall when he’s in the office at work and he has to do a double-take to make sure it’s not you that’s laughing.

He’s never actually, though, confronted with your physical presence until he finds himself at a joint military exercise in European waters and you are on the same carrier. He’s walking into the cafeteria after a morning of training exercises and immediately zeroes in on you. Once he’s aware of you, he can’t look away.

It takes a moment for your senses to catch on. (To be fair, the cafeteria is not really known to be an oasis of peace. It’s loud and busy. You’re sitting with friends anyhow.) Your eyes flit to the area where he’s making his way in and he can tell the moment your mind makes sense of what you’re seeing. You glance at him for one long moment, and then you turn towards your friends and stay that way until you all leave. The only thing that has changed about your demeanor is the frown that settles on your expression throughout the rest of your meal.

He thinks you look even better now than you did back then.

He thinks he took you by surprise. That you’ve gotten so used to not seeing him around on your deployments and where you’re stationed that you didn’t think you would need to brace yourself on this go around.

Jake knows what he did and he feels terrible. He didn’t then, but he does now.

Seeing you in actual flesh and blood makes him remember.

He remembers your utter devotion during your brief time together.

He remembers that the first time he approached you, he made you laugh. The kind of laughter that leaves a person gasping for air and makes their eyes water. You fell hook, line, and sinker. He remembers the way you would try to make time and space for him whenever you could, despite how busy you were trying to progress in your career. He remembers how he didn’t do the same.

He remembers that on your off days, you would come over and stay the nights. He remembers the smell of you when you would climb into bed next to him after showering. And when he couldn’t sleep, when his mind was churning and taking him back to things he just wanted to forget, you would sit next to him on the couch at 3 a.m. as he turned the television on. When he closed his eyes, he knows you were the one to turn to TV screen off so he didn’t wake up. He remembers how you would kiss him: sweet and complete and open, always moving in step with him.

He remembers how wholehearted you were when you were with him. Giving your whole self, all the time.

Even when he would say sharp, caustic words that would make tears form in your eyes, even when he shut his bedroom door so he wouldn’t feel responsible for making you cry, you stayed.

He remembers the way you stayed.

And he remembers how his half-hearted attempts, quarter-hearted attempts really, to draw you back in eventually ran you dry. You were willing to do so much, and he wasn’t really willing to do anything. He was young, but he knows that’s not an excuse now.

He remembers the light in your eyes changing. He remembers the way you stopped coming over. He remembers the way you didn’t have the courage to tell him you wanted to leave.

He remembers that you held onto him until the bitter end.

He knows you won’t talk to him. Every time you see him on the carrier, you make a point to avoid him or walk the other way. He knows you probably resent him (there’s a reason he can’t find you on any social media platforms). He understands why you don’t seem to want anything to do with him.

So, he investigates. He does what he knows how to do best: he talks and charms and weasels his way through the crowds of people on the carrier. Making his way from one group to another, day and night, Jake gleans for information and eventually finds what he needs. He knows your bunkmate’s name now (and their shift and their position, and even where they like to hang out and what time they prefer to go to the gym).

You may never read it, he knows. You may can it or tear it up and throw it out into the ocean. You may even wait until you can set it on fire and watch it burn.

But he knows he has to try.

So when he finds your bunkmate, he hands them a piece of paper and tells them it’s for you. It’s small and doesn’t take up much room. Your bunkmate only nods, a look of confusion passing over their face. He says it’s important that it be delivered to you. Those are his only instructions.

If he had the opportunity to talk to you in person, he might have the chance to elongate. To say more, be more. But he might not ever get the chance to do that, so he’s going to take what he can get.

You pass your bunkmate between shifts: you’re just getting back for some sleep, and they’re heading out. They say there’s a piece of paper you need to read on your pillow. Hand-delivered, they say the instructions were. No follow-up is required. You wait until they leave. Until you’re left alone.

You open up the folded-up piece of paper.

This is what it says:

I’m sorry. You deserved better.

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luveline · 8 months

Note

would loveeee to see your version of jake!! maybe just something fluffy and domestic, sorry im leaving you to fill in the blanks so much bby ;; <3

thank you for your request lovely ♡ fem!reader

Jake does this thing whenever he sees you like he's trying not to smile —or eat you alive.

Face desperate to stay impassive but eyes giving him away, his lips and the space just above his left brow twitch at the same time, and the pool cue he holds is swiftly given to a nearby friend.

"Now what do we have here?" he asks, sizing you up shamelessly.

You hide your own smile and turn from him. Predictably, Jake follows you from the pool table and toward the bar, where you open your purse for a rumpled ten, the warm summer air ruffling your layered skirt and the air con above battling to keep your cheeks cool.

He covers your hand. "What's with you?"

"What's with me?" you ask lightly.

"Don't tell me you've been this pretty all your life and you still try buying your own drinks?"

"I'm a big girl," you say, flagging down Penny for your usual.

Jake, still predictable, declares it on him. Despite his insistence and his easy compliments, he doesn't look at you as Penny pours your drinks, eyes meandering lazily around the Hard Deck and its patrons like he hadn't just followed you up here.

"I can pay for my own drink," you say.

He still doesn't look at you, but his smile turns smarmy, almost, his tone wry, "Ah, but should you have to?"

"Jake–"

"A first name basis?" He nods at Penny in thanks as she finishes up. A prop for his derision, he picks up his drink and smirks at you from over the rim. "We're getting somewhere."

You place your elbow on the bar and rest your cheek in the cup of your hand, relaxing each feature. You're as unashamed as he was to look at him, though for a different reason, cataloguing the little differences since you last saw him. His tanned cheeks apple the longer you look, and for the first time since this morning, he smiles at you genuinely.

"Shit," he mutters through it, putting his drink down. "You know I can't handle it when you're looking at me like that, angel."

"Almost like that's why I do it," you say softly. Your smile melds from contented to something with a little more excitement as Jake puts his hand on your waist a deliberate, slow placement, each finger in a specific set. Thumb pressing into soft tummy, pinky finger teasing the waistband of your skirt. "S'why I wore the skirt, too."

He catches your lips for a sudden kiss. You laugh into his mouth, grabbing a handful of rigid, corded forearm muscle to stop him from getting too close. (You'd love for him to get closer, but you hope to be able to show your face here for the rest of your life.)

"I win," you say, the tip of your nose bumping his as you break the kiss.

"You win," he says. "You were supposed to be here half an hour ago, you know that?"

"So you could subject us to your weird foreplay just after dinner?" Fanboy asks, rocking up to the bar with Rooster beside him.

"It's not foreplay," you say, mortified but quickly mollified when Rooster waves a hand.

"He's kidding. Doesn't mean he isn't half right. Why do you guys do that?"

"What, pretend not to know each other?" you ask.

Jake's arm moves from its risqué grasping of your waist to cover your back. He's not hulking but he's not a small man, you feel his presence behind you like a steadying, remarkably handsome constant. You've no trouble leaning against him with all your weight, your hair pressed to his shoulder.

"You boys wouldn't understand," Jake says, arm curving around you like a seat belt locking into place. He gives your tummy a squeeze. You place your sandal clad heel on his boot as though that might scare him into behaving, and he likes you enough to pretend it does.

"It's just fun." You reach for Jake's drink and take a sip, your own ignored and weeping condensation. "Keeps life interesting."

"'Cos I'm such a bore," Jake drawls, nosing behind the shell of your ear.

You smile and huff a laugh through your nose as he shakes you from one side to another playfully. You're being downright disgusting in public, in broad daylight, but you're so in love you don't mind. It's not as if you're necking, anyways. Jake's just soft-handed when he wants to be, and with you, that's all the time.

"You're the worst," you say. Your tone is honeyed enough that it's obvious from the first syllable that what you're saying isn't true.

"I'll drink to that!" Rooster cheers, flagging Penny for another beer.

Jake ignores him. "I really do like the skirt, doll."

"Thank you. I'm thinking I might get it in white."

"Oh, yeah. I'd like to see that on you. Almost as much as I'd like taking it right fucking off of—" You step on his toes until he stops.

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sebsxphia · 11 months

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i do not have an accent…. but when i’m tired or angry my fun lil southern twang pops out and i’m imagining being in your early relationship with Jake and him hearing it and just losing his mind

oh my god, i love this so much dear anon 🥹

i can imagine this if you’re staying round jake’s home around a month into your relationship. it’s early in the morning and you’re rushing to meet your mum. you’re in a rush because said boyfriend, the handsome, tall and blonde, texas aviator, kept you in bed a little longer than you had anticipated. worth it though, of course.

you’re riffling through the drawers in jake’s hallway in a hurried attempt to find your car keys. “where the fuck…” you let out a grunt in frustration as they’re still nowhere to be seen. “where in the god damn, hell, are they? my ma’s gon’ kill me.”

you huff out again and look up at jake, who’s leaning against the wall with his eyes wide and his jaw nearly on the floor, yet a small smirk tugging on his lips. he looks smug and it irritates you even more.

“what?” you snap.

“that!” jake playfully points his finger at you, flexing his bicep muscles candidly. “what was that?!”

“what was what, jake? my keys! my god damn keys!” you’ve admitted defeat and broken into frustrated laughter at your stupidly handsome, shirtless boyfriend, walking towards you with his award winning smile.

“again! that southern twang, you’re a god damn southern bell aren’t you?” he wraps his large arm around you and pulls you flush against his bare torso, his other hand coming up to gently cradle your jaw. you’re melting into his touch, no longer frustrated and your cheeks are turning a rosy pink.

“i’ll help you find your keys, but you have to promise me one thing?”

“yes?”

“come home from your ma as soon as you can, because i want my sweet southern bell all to myself.”

eheh thank you so much for this dear anon! 💌

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tongue-like-a-razor · 1 year

Note

Oooo baby! Happy 4K!! Hangman with “knowing their allergies and medical history while in the ER” please?? 💕

Thank you so much!! Here's some Jake for you! Enjoy!

4k Celebration Drabbles

Brother's Best Friend

Jake Seresin x Reader

You hobble over to the receptionist to get a clipboard with an intake form, wincing every time you put weight on the ankle you twisted missing a step when you tried to join your friends at the firepit in the backyard. To your great excitement, your brother’s best friend (and the guy you’ve been crushing on for the better part of your life), had been the only one in the group sober enough to drive you to the hospital. Unfortunately, Jake Seresin also spent the entire ride over reprimanding you for not turning on the light before coming down the stairs.

You take a seat in the waiting room just as he enters the building after parking his car.

“It’ll be a few hours,” you tell him. “You could just pick me up in the morning.”

Jake gives you an amused look. “And leave you here alone in your inebriated state?”

You grimace. “I’m not inebriated. Anymore.”

He hooks an eyebrow as he lowers himself into the seat beside you.

“Maybe your tedious lecture sobered me up,” you grumble.

Jake chuckles. “Sorry, I might’ve gotten a little carried away.”

You shrug, leaning away from him slightly because his arm brushes against yours when he rests his back into the seat. His shoulders are so wide that it’s impossible to sit beside him without making contact. You lean forward to start filling out your form.

Several moments later, Jake taps on the clipboard in your hands. “Didn’t you take ibuprofen for the pain?”

You glance up at him slowly, pulling the clipboard protectively into your chest. “So?”

“They need to know what you’re on.”

“What I’m on?” you say with a laugh. “It’s not like it’s meth, Jake.”

“Write it just in case,” he says. “And how much alcohol have you had?”

You roll your eyes and shift in your seat so that your back is turned toward him. “Let me concentrate.”

But Jake is already half standing to look over your shoulder. “Migraines, right?” he mutters, pointing at the list of existing conditions.

“Jake, do you mind?” you say. “This is private information.”

But Jake ignores your request entirely and starts tapping on the allergy section that you’ve left blank. “You’re allergic to cats,” he says. “Give me that!” He yanks the clipboard out of your hands.

“Jake!” you exclaim. “They don’t care if I’m allergic to cats. This is a hospital. They want to know if I’m allergic to any medications.”

“Shh,” Jake shushes you. “Let me concentrate.”

Read Part 2

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bradshawed · 8 months

Text

Sick Days & Cancelled Dates

summary — poor bobby passing the nasty bug onto you, meaning you lay in bed on a hot summer’s day. don’t worry, you won’t be alone, not for long…

warnings — jacob thomas seresin’s eyes, fluff, disgusting niceness, cooking, mentions of food, no use of y/n, slight tension, more nice stuff, it’s just a cute little one shot really

word count — 1k words

so i completely gave up on adding pictures to this one because i just wanted to get it published but i hope you get the gist. sorry that it took so bloody long to publish, i’ve been insanely busy but hopefully i can get some stuff out every once in a while. hope you all like it and feel free to lmk if you guys want sick jake or dagger squad too xx

the love olympics masterlist.

Waking up with a sore throat you’d instantly felt the telltale signs of a cold as you closed your eyes, laying back in bed with a dramatic groan. Who even gets a cold in summer?

Flashbacks flip through your mind as you roll onto your side burying yourself under the bedsheets, replaying the moment you delivered Bob, a very sick Bob, some homemade soup a couple of days ago. It had only been for a second and yet he’d somehow managed to pass the cold onto you. You still loved him but times like these you hated that Bob got ill so easily.

Falling back asleep, you decided was the best course of action, or it would’ve been if you hadn’t heard a pair of very familiar footsteps running up the staircase to your bedroom waking you up, not even half an hour later. It was definitely a terrible idea to give him a key.

Hiding in your duvet burrito, you grabbed a pillow and flung it in the general direction of the noise in your room, smiling when you heard a dramatic ‘ow’ when you made contact. It was definitely worth the sacrifice of your pillow and the extra comfort. Especially when he fell to the floor as if he’d been acting out a death scene in a play in high school, typical Jake. It did however, make you wonder if he could’ve been a theatre kid..maybe in another life. You smiled as you drifted off to sleep again with the thoughts of actor Jake in your mind.

Seresin, assessing the situation (poking at your body until you yelled at him to tell him to leave you alone because you were sick), decided to go back downstairs to make you something to eat. He had been greatly worried since you were late for the day out you’d planned together and hadn’t answered your phone so he called Bradley who told him to kindly leave him alone on his day off and reminded him to use the key you’d given Jake for emergencies. So that’s exactly what he did…

A couple of hours later, you shuffled downstairs, refusing to give up your burrito of warmth just yet, to meet a snoring Jake on your couch, Mamma Mia playing in the background. The delicious smell wafting from the kitchen made your stomach rumble but you felt bad eating without him so you jumped on top of his sleeping body on the couch, effectively waking him up.

In hindsight, you should’ve anticipated his reflexes grabbing hold of your body which had unraveled from the duvet, holding you closer to him than either of you expected.

“Morning,” you sent a soft reply back, far too flustered from the position you were both in as well as his morning voice. Jake’s hand reached up to move a couple of wild strands of hair away from your forehead as he checked your temperature with the back of his hand with a gentle hum on his voice, “still a little warm but better than before”. You nodded in reply, a little entranced by the flecks of gold in the green of his eyes.

Jake noticed. He always notices. Or more accurately, he always notices you. His grip on your body tightened ever so slightly as he let himself get lost in the moment before gently moving your body off his. He shook his head lightly, reminding himself that he was only here to outdo you on the dates and win (you over), nothing more, nothing less.

You took a minute to breathe, gaining your composure before following him into the kitchen where he began heating and plating up the food he’d prepared.

“So Chef Seresin, what have you prepared for me today?”

“Well Chef, today we’ve got a classic Seresin household Sick Day Soup, I can’t tell you the ingredients because it’s a secret recipe, if I tell you it won’t work. Oh and a cheese toastie made from that sourdough loaf from the market that you like.”

Your eyes widened at that because you definitely didn’t have a single slice of bread in your apartment until that moment so that must have meant that- you punched Jake in the arm, the ‘ow�� was justified for him being too nice and driving an hour to go to your favourite market. God the urge to kiss him or punch him again was getting harder by each passing second.

Jake, sensing some sort of inner turmoil within you chose to move himself to a slightly safer area by grabbing the dishes and moving them to the coffee table, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead as he moved past you.

After you’d both eaten yourselves into a delicious food coma, and Jake had washed the dishes, much to your chagrin, you felt a wave of fatigue rush over you just as he’d appeared with a bunch of painkillers and cold medicine and a glass of water.

“Thank you for today, I really appreciate it. You didn’t have to-” you stopped yourself having seen the look in his eyes, “but thank you. I saw the picnic basket in the kitchen and I’m sorry for ruining your plans. We can still go out if you want, I feel so much better, plus I just took the medicine.”

He sighed sadly at that, you weren’t ruining anything, and Jake made sure to take the time to tell you that before carrying you up to your bedroom. He definitely didn’t have to do that but you honestly did not mind one bit.

Waking up a couple of hours later, you discovered a bouquet of flowers arranged in a vase in your kitchen, as well as a note in his flowy handwriting mentioning that dinner was in the oven waiting to be heated up. The huge smile on your face wasn’t going to disappear any time soon.

Good thing you got to return he favour the next day with Jake soon catching the bug along with the other aviators in quick succession after that.

tags — @waklman @sematarygirls @djs8891 @kmc1989 @dempy message/comment to be added to the tag list xx

#drew writes!#tlo #adventures of chickadee and loverboy ⭐️#jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #jake seresin drabble #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake seresin fluff #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick

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all-timelee · 1 year

Text

It Was Just a Joke || J.S.

Warnings: A few innuendos, nothing bad

Word Count: 1.2k

Masterlist

Jake Seresin was a complete pain in your ass. He was over confident, smug, and pretty much your least favorite person on the planet. At least that's what you told yourself. You refused to admit just how much attraction you felt towards the blonde, just how much you enjoyed the shameless flirting and attention he aimed at you. You would rather die than allow anyone to realize that.

You were deeply lost in thought, zoned out entirely as a few members of your team huddled around the pool table in front of you. It took Jake a few tries before he finally snapped you out of it, your head turning to face him.

"Are you even paying attention over there, sweetheart?" Jake asked, his infamous smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "To you? Almost never," you shot back without missing a beat, bringing the beer you cradled up to your lips. Jake chuckled, handing his pool stick off to Coyote before taking the seat next to yours. You nearly rolled your eyes as his arm landed on the back of your chair; body turned to face you as he got comfortable.

"We both know that's not true, don't we?" He prodded, cocking an eyebrow as he watched you drink slowly, trying desperatly to keep your mind in check. "I'm sure there's plenty of people here that would be more than willing to give me attention," you replied, shrugging your shoulders casually before looking at him, raising an eyebrow of your own when you noticed the flash of jealousy on his features, the look disappearing just as fast as it had appeared.

"Sure, you do, but it feels so much better when it comes from me," Jake said with a wink, earning a chuckle from you. "Then how about instead of just flirting with me, you actually make a move?" The words fell quickly from your mouth, making you choke down your regret once you realized what you said. You let yourself relax a little as Jake laughed, resting a hand on your thigh and lightly squeezing the skin there. The touch sent warmth through your entire body, making your cheeks flush slightly.

"Got quite a mouth on you, don't you, sugar?" Jake asked, letting his smile grow wider. His other hand came up to caress your cheek, fingers gently tracing your jawline. Your breath hitched slightly, the sensation of his fingertips on your skin causing goosebumps to form. You felt him lean closer until he was mere centimeters away from your face, your heart hammering inside of your chest as he whispered into your ear.

"What if I did want to make a move?"

Your brain seemed to stop working. You wanted nothing more than to shoot back some remark to Jake, but you were blanking, his soft touch almost being too much for you to handle. If this wasn't torture, then what could possibly be?

He must have sensed how nervous you'd become, because he leaned back just enough so he could meet your gaze properly. You didn't think you'd ever hated someone as much as you hated Jake Seresin right now.

"It was just a joke, darlin," he whispered, his voice low and deep yet smooth. You felt like you should be offended by the way it sounded, or at least taken aback by how close the man sitting next to you was. But all you could feel was anger. Angry at him for making you question your actions, angry at yourself for letting your true feelings come to light. Angry at fate for sending you this asshole to torment you.

With one quick motion, you pushed Jake's hand off of your thigh and stood, trying your best to keep your frustration out of your voice. "You're right, it was just a joke," you said, keeping your tone steady. "I'm gonna head out." You ignored Jake's confused expression as you walked away from the game, the noise of laughter coming from the men behind you only barely registering as you tried to get your heartbeat under control.

Once outside, you took several deep breaths, trying desperately to calm down. What the hell had gotten into you? You were usually composed, logical, and level headed. But when Jake came near you, everything seemed to go haywire. You hated that you let Jake have so much affect over you. How could you act so stupid when every fiber of your being knew that it all meant absolutely nothing?

You almost didn't hear the calling of your name as you neared your car, completely oblivious to the man chasing after you. "Hey!" You heard him yell, reaching out for your wrist. You tried wrenching your arm out of his grip only for him to pull harder. You turned towards him, seeing that he had a determined set to his jaw. You looked him straight in the eye, feeling the anger bubbling inside of you again.

"Leave me alone, Jake." You said, attempting to pull your arm free once more. "Come on, sweetheart. At least explain to me what the hell just happened," he insisted, not budging on his pursuit to get you to talk. You knew there wasn't a way out of this conversation, Jake was nothing if not persistant. He wouldn't leave until he was satisfied.

"Is it all really just some dumb joke to you?" You asked, unable to hide the bite in your voice. He looked taken aback, nearly doing a double take as he reigstered your question. You eventually grew tired of the silence surrounding you two and attempted to pull your arm out of his grasp, letting out a small gasp when he pulled you back with enough force that you fell against his body.

"What are you doing?!" You shouted against his chest, pushing against his chest in attempt to get away from him. Unfortunately for you, he was much stronger than you were, his arms easily keeping you trapped against his chest.

"I didn't know it wasn't that for you," he finally spoke, his voice quiet and you stilled against him. You didn't fight his actions this time as he hooked a finger under your chin, pulling your head up to meet his intense gaze. "It was at first, I-I don't know what happened," you whispered, finally coming to terms with how strong your feelings for the man had grown. No matter how much you denied it, the truth was undeniable.

He kissed you, and you couldn't help but melt into his embrace. There was no hesitation as he deepened the kiss, his hands running up along your back as he held you tight against him. You melted into the warmth emanating from his skin and your mind started whirling with thoughts. All you could think about was his lips against yours and the prospect of him harboring the same feelings you had been.

He finally pulled away breathing heavy as he stared down at you, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. "Is this enough of a move for you?" He spoke, a teasing lilt to his tone which caused a small giggle to slip from your lips. "I don't know, you might need to come home with me and try again." You teased back and he chuckled lightly in response, leaning down to capture your lips again.

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spidervee · 1 year

Text

in which jake is your roommate and ruins all your dates. accidentally. accidentally, right?🌻 18+ only!

Jake Seresin isn’t an ideal roommate. He sings in the shower at 5 a.m., he can’t load a dishwasher to save his life—seriously, who puts mugs on the bottom—and he has a habit of walking around shirtless that is beginning to interfere with your love life.

Of course, he’s got a lot of good qualities. He’s a surprisingly good cook, with a recipe for chicken and dumplings you’re pretty sure is the best thing you’ve ever eaten. He’s also got that Navy-mandated tidiness, so the apartment you share is always vacuumed and dusted. And he has a habit of walking around shirtless, which, as appealing as it is for your eyes, is…

Yepp. Starting to mess with your love life.

Because guys see Jake making a smoothie in the kitchen or getting back from a run or literally doing anything and decide they have to have some stupid pissing contest with your roommate, who remains, you think, entirely oblivious to how threatened he makes the men you bring home. Because why would he see them as a threat, right? He’s so far out of your league that your dates have nothing to worry about. Jake Seresin could pull any girl he ever wanted so why would he want you?

You’re almost grateful he’s deployed—despite your usual worry for his safety—when you bring a new guy home from the bar. No Jake means no weird energy and maybe a chance to actually let a relationship get off its feet.

Until he comes out of the bathroom and you’re smiling at your phone because Jake sent you a text, a photo of the two of you at the beach from last year. One of those iPhone memories that apparently made him think of you.

This came up on my phone yesterday. Miss you, sweetheart. Don’t burn the place down. Oh and I’m safe in case you couldn’t tell.

Your date isn’t thrilled to see the photo, even though he asks to. Tells you it looks like you’re a couple—as if—and that Jake seems really comfortable touching you—he’s just a touchy person.

The night ends with some mediocre sex and, despite his words to the otherwise, your date never calls you back.

You try not to blame Jake, but it’s hard not to see him as the root of all your woes in love. And if you’re not mad at him, you’ll have to analyze why he’s accidentally ruining every date you’re on and maybe you’ll have to admit that it’s because none of these guys actually measure up to Jake.

You’d have to have the startling realization that you are hopelessly in love with your roommate.

So when Jake comes back a few weeks later maybe you’re cold. Maybe you’re quiet. Maybe you’re keeping to yourself and maybe you tell him to fuck off when he keeps asking what he did wrong.

You move to storm out of the apartment and it’s all very dramatic, but Jake stops you with a hand grasped firmly around your wrist. It’s not rough, but determined, and he pulls you gently closer to him, his green eyes burning with confusion under furrowed brows.

“What was that?” His skin is sun-kissed and he can’t tell you where he was deployed but you know it was somewhere warm from the way the few freckles that dot his nose are more prominent than usual.

“Fuck. Off.”

Jake blinks, undeterred. And then he stares at you, gaze so focused you feel like you’re a target in one of his stupid training exercises. You want to shy away, but when his other hand comes up to wipe away the tears you hadn’t realized we’re gathering in your eyes it all comes out. All your weird and messy feelings that will certainly ruin everything and make it so you need to find another place to live.

But when you’re done talking, Jake just frowns. He pulls you impossibly closer and rests his chin atop your head. “I’m sorry, sweets,” he mutters, “But I’m glad I scared those guys off.” He doesn’t add that he was totally doing it on purpose as often as he could—things are still too fragile for that. One day he’ll tell you. And on that day, he’ll receive a face full of chocolate cake as punishment.

But for today, he just lets you sniffle in his arms, holds you close as you put a wet spot down the front of his t-shirt. “They’re not good enough for you,” he continues, “I just helped them realize that sooner rather than later.”

“Jake,” you complain, “You can’t keep doing that. I need…I want to find someone.”

His frown deepens and he places his hands on your waist, tapping your hips lightly to warn you that he’s going to pick you up. Carrying you into your bedroom, he sighs. “Fine. I’ll stop, if you give this guy I know a shot.”

“I’m listening.”

“He’s Navy,” Jake continues, “And he’s got a killer body.”

“Definitely listening,” you laugh, but try to ignore the pang of hurt that is Jake setting you up with one of his friends.

Jake rolls his eyes and takes a spot beside you on your bed. “He’s a great pilot, some say the best. And he’s a gentleman, Texas-raised so he knows his way around a kitchen.”

Oh. Oh.

“Jake…”

He holds up a hand, not willing to be interrupted. “And he’s shit at loading the dishwasher, sweets, but I know he’d be willing to learn.”

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin #jake seresin blurb #jake seresin drabble #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x reader fluff #hangman x reader #hangman x you

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sweetlittlegingy · 1 year

Text

Lavender Haze

✰ Midnights Masterlist

✰ Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/n

✰ Word Count: 3 K

✰ Warning: Toxic family and sexism (reader's parents), drinking, fluff, smutty themes, protective!Jake

✰ A/n: This was only supposed to be a blurb, but here we are 3000 words later... I don't know what a blurb is apparently. Also, I do not have a taglist, follow my library and turn on notifications for updates!

✰ Library

Staring at the ceiling with you

Oh, you don't ever say too much

And you don't really read into

My melancholia

…

“You still with me darlin’?”

The question pulls you from your daydream, and you glance back at Jake. His hand gives you a gentle squeeze when he sees the tense smile you force yourself to make, and shifts closer to you automatically. Slightly moving back farther into the settee and pulling your body closer to him, as his arm settles behind your back.

“I just hate coming here, they’re overbearing.”

As you mutter the words, your eyes flitter around the room taking in the spectacle that is your parents. The decor of your parents' house was always rich and elegant, though the added dried lavender was a new addition. Your mother had claimed that given it was spring, lavender could be the theme of the party. Resulting in not only dried lavender everywhere but hints of purple decor, lining the walls. There had been so much lavender added to the house, the smell was overbearing, and mixed with the purple décor, together they were both giving you a migraine.

You were used to the incessant loop of people coming in and out of your house, throughout your childhood a weekly was the usual occurrence.

Though now seeing so many unfamiliar faces, you quietly wondered what your parents must have done to run off those that you grew up with. The current array of your parent’s friends were snobby elites that clearly had too much money, and each of them was as annoying as the next. The constant string of questions and judgmental looks, while they rotate you through the groups like a stab of meat, was something you became accustomed to at a young age. But as you’ve gotten old it only seems to have worsened, and socially acceptable boundaries didn't exist when it came to questions about your life.

It was no easy task being the only daughter of Texas socialites; privacy had become a foreign topic and you could no longer do right in your parent’s eyes. Having left the state quite abruptly, when you decided to follow Jake to California and finish your degree online, was only the tip of your ever-growing list of disappointments. The long list ranged from the fact that you weren't married yet, to how you hadn't given them a grandchild, and so forth.

Coming home hadn’t even been your choice, but Jake was coming home to Austin to visit his family and the decision had been made. You loved Jake’s family and the decision to see them after 9 months was easy.

The visit was supposed to be 2 weeks with his family only, though your plans were quickly demolished when your mother called and heard Jake playing with his nieces. Your plan to play it off as they came to California for a visit would have worked if your mother didn’t have to put her nose in other people’s business.

Though like the wonderful woman she is, she called Jake’s mother almost instantly and found out the truth. You were in no way upset with Liz, she was the sweetest woman that you had ever met, and you hadn’t exactly mentioned that you were avoiding your family. While the Seresin family knew that your family didn't always get along, the drama that accompanied your family name, wasn't something that you wanted to bring them into.

Though the slip-up landed you here, back on your parent’s estate and drinking your sorrows away. The “herbalist” Lavender Champagne was one that your mother learned about in a Martha Stewart cookbook, though she had told everyone that Martha had given it to her personally. Typical behavior from the woman; she’s always been a compulsive liar.

The lavender stems were anything but calming, and more so a frufru additive to the imported drink, subsequently it had helped the 4-hour dinner party move faster. You were on your third glass, while Jake had switched to scotch after dinner and the small buzz was a welcomed distraction.

The home you and Jake found on the highly uncomfortable settee, which was more for show than anything, had been your safe haven. The both of you settled it after you had done one set of rounds and had stayed in it since. Though the luxury fades away as you see your mother heading through the crowd, with a group of women and making a b-line for you and Jake.

“Sweetie, you might want to slip away before the crows can sink their claws into you.”

The group of older women had no sense of personal space when it came to Jake, the constant pawing and flirting was an event that you would only let Jake deal with once tonight. Jake's gaze moves to where your staring and instantly sucks in a harsh breath. He sits the both of you upright, before placing a kiss on your cheek and moving to leave.

“Signal if you need me darlin’.”

“And how should I do that?” the teasing tone in your voice, makes him smile. Glad to see that even with the events of the night, you can still be your chipper, sarcastic self.

“I mean, you could just start yelling mayday like a lunatic, but a subtle ‘excuse me I need a refill’ should suffice.”

The wink that Jake gives you, before slipping past your mother barely avoiding her clutch, has you giggling. Though you’re quick to cover it up when your mother glares at you and takes a seat next to you, motioning the group of ladies to do the same.

…

All they keep asking me

Is if I'm gonna be your bride

The only kinda girl they see

Is a one-night or a wife

…

“Y/n, it’s so good to see you. Your mother always has so much to say about you.”

You can’t quite remember the lady's name, the rotation of women your mother kept was highly overwhelming and quite petty. Though you can only nod to the woman, as another interrupts and asks about you and Jake.

The hand your mother had settled on your back tenses slightly, as she jabs one of her nails into your lower back and you fight to hide your wince. Her own voice takes over the question for you, leaving you to glance around the room. You catch sight of Jake over by the liquor cabinet, surrounded by your father’s friends from the country club.

The well-tailored slacks and blazer had had your mouth watering from the moment you saw them on him. The heat of your gaze must alert him to your staring, as his emerald, green eyes flash to you and a teasing smirk crosses his lips. The cheeky wink he gives you has you looking away quickly and you can’t help but blush knowing that you’ve been caught.

“– isn’t that right Y/n?”

Your attention is quickly back on the group when you hear your mother state your name. A small hum falls from your lips, in hopes that your mother will, willingly repeat what she said.

“You and Jake.” Her harsh tone is followed by another jab to your spine, and you slightly grit your teeth in pain and annoyance.

“Yes, Jake and I are going on our five-year anniversary.”

Your smile is genuine when it crosses your face, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the surrounding group. You and Jake met when you were only 15 and started dating right after high school. He was the best thing that ever happened to you, and you were thankful that your relationship had stayed so strong through the years.

The topic of marriage had come up many times, though you had expressed that you wanted to finish school before you tied the knot. Knowing that your mother would want a “perfect” wedding that was a grand event; was an added stress that you couldn't have right now alongside your studies.

“And yet there’s no ring?” The statement more so, than a question comes from your Aunt Fran and the harsh tease is hard to miss when the ladies around you silently whisper.

“We’re very happy, with our current status.” The sweet smile you give is anything but, “Unlike some of you, I’m not actively looking for a husband with a formidable amount of money for me to spend.”

This time you can’t hide your wince when your mother jabs at your back, and the once slightly painful action, now has your back bowing away from her hand. If the ladies notice your reaction, no one says anything and the harsh glare from your mother has you tipping the rest of your champagne back.

“I’d be careful darling. You’re almost 25, and well, he’s bound to get bored with you.”

You give your aunt a tight smile, holding your tongue as you glance at the clock on the overhead wall. The comment wasn't one you hadn't heard before, but the delivery of it seemed to get blunter each time she said it. The ticking of the hands is a welcomed sight, as the big hand slowly moves toward the twelve and brings you that much closer to your escape.

…

They're bringing up my history

But you weren't even listening

…

The topic of conversation quickly drifted to the current Texas politics and gossip from around town, while you quietly zoned out and enjoy the growing buzz that the champagne fills you with. The ladies’ voices drown together and their high-pitched laughter only adds to your growing migraine. The hand that had been resting in your lap comes to rub your head, and rakes through your hair to push the strands from your face.

Jake had been watching you since the moment he left you, not trusting your mother and what she could bring up. He’d noticed each wince you had tried to hold in; over the years he had become a custom to your actions and could always tell when your mother was behind said actions.

“So, Jake is y/n behaving for you? She’s never been good at listening; I can imagine she only gotten worse with the move.”

Jake had been used to your parents constantly harping on you and putting you down, though it was never easy. Jake had seen you through all of your teenage years, and he knew for a fact that you had never questioned your parents. You had always been the kind sweet girl, that worried about good grades and making sure she never disappointed anyone.

Well, up until you decided to go to university and move to California with Jake. Those two decisions had been the cataclysmic event that pushed the snowball off the hill, leading it into a never-ending roll. Each little problem that your parents found only added to the issues. It had become a compilation of why you were a disappointment and reasons to hate you.

The slight glare that Jake gives your father, has him starting in on another topic without Jake’s reply. Though the new topic had been just as bad, if not worse.

“I’m sure you do agree though, that her going to school is unacceptable. A lady’s place is in the home, taking care of things.”

He follows the statement up with a wink, and Jake is slightly stunned by the comment. The whites of his knuckles now visible, with the tightening grasp he has on the scotch glass. Jake would be afraid of breaking it, though it might be a nice distraction. Given the fact that his anger was only growing and the chances of punching your father were only growing.

“Excuses me.”

“I said –”

“No, I know what you said. I just can’t believe how much of a pretentious sexist asshole you are. Y/n is doing exceptional in school, and I am extremely proud of her.” The slight step that Jake takes closer to your father, is hard to miss and though you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew enough, that it wasn’t good.

“Also, whatever she decides to do with her life, is her decision, not yours. So, I suggest you back the fuck off.”

…

Surreal

I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal

The 1950s shit they want from me

…

As Jake steps away from your father, you give your mother and the ladies surrounding you a look before getting up and making your way toward him.

“You won't be young forever darling. Why I'd be worried already, how do you know he doesn’t have someone on the side?”

The statement is made towards your back as you pass your aunt Fran, it causes you to stiffen slightly. You knew that Jake would never cheat on you, you both loved each other immensely, but that didn't make hearing their bitter comments any easier. It was something you got quite good at, letting each of their comments roll off your back. Though it seemed to work against you, with comments only getting worse after every party when they couldn't get the desired reaction from you.

Jake had made it to your side, just as your mother and aunt started laughing causing the ladies around them to giggle to your demise. His warm hand wraps around your forearm and pulls you into his chest, placing a delicate kiss on your brow before pulling back. His green eyes silently watch you in question, though you can only shake your head in reply. The sooner you left this monstrous house the better.

You may have grown into a strong, brilliant young lady, but being back in this position felt like your parents still had control over you. It felt like you were still that little girl that worked herself to death, just to please those around her.

“Sweetheart let's go home.”

The words are muttered into your ear, as the warmth of Jake’s breath cascades over you and relaxes you slightly. You nod in return, turning your head so your forehead can rest against his own before placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

A silent thank you.

You leave the crowd in a blur, only consumed in the comfort Jake brings you. Neither of you tell your parents goodbye, and you silently hope that it will upset them enough that you wouldn’t be invited back.

The cool fresh air of the night calms you as you step outside the house, and Jake's arms slip around your waist as he places delicate kisses along your neck. His chin settles on your neck, while is hands tighten around it, almost as if he was afraid, you would slip away.

“You know how proud I am of you right?”

You hum slightly, just enjoying the feeling of being in his arms. The buzz from the champagne fades away, and in its place is Jake.

“You amaze me every day sweetheart, and no matter what anyone says, I will always love you.” The loving statement makes you nuzzle back into Jake and place a kiss on his cheek. Though the seriousness of the moment fades, as Jake teasingly bites along the passage of your neck. You tilt your head to the side and let him have full access to the passage, as small moans emit from your lips.

You turn in Jake’s hold, going to wrap your arms around his neck, and place a slow kiss on his lips. The heat radiates between the two of you and has a steady yearning coming from your core. Both of your lips move in sync, slotting perfectly together with no care for the surrounding world.

Jake's hands grasp at your hips, as the material of your dress rises slightly up your thighs and creates the perfect space for Jake to slot his thigh between your own. The tug on your hips causes your core to brush harshly against the material of Jake's slacks. The jolt sent through your body, has you grasping onto Jake’s hair even tighter and pulling at it.

You only pull back when you have to gasp for a breath, though Jake doesn’t hesitate and goes to work on your jawline. The tip back of your head gives him even more access and your eyes barely opening to see the night sky, as a needy moan tumbles from your lips. Your mind lays in a haze of need and want for Jake, more than willing to have him take you on your parent's front lawn.

You pant slightly as Jake places one last kiss on your lips, before pulling away and resting his forehead against yours, causing your noses barely brush each other. The green of his eyes shines bright in comparison to the house lamps, and you wonder how you got so lucky.

“I love you.”

Jake had never been shy about expressing his love for you and the three words, even after all these years, still made you feel like you were floating on a cloud. The wide smile that breaks out across your lips only stays for a second, as you press a sweet giddy kiss once again against his lips.

“I love you.”

Your smile mirrors one another other, though it's quickly displaced as Jake's hands that had settled on your hips start to tickle you. Laughter erupts from your chest, as you break out of his hold and run. Your heels fall from your feet, landing in the drive, as your dress flares out behind you.

Jake's own laughing seems to be closing in on you and causes you to speed up, while your own laughs grow louder and interrupt the still night. Your mind is abuzz and clouded with a warm haze, that can only be attributed to Jake and as you glance back once more over your shoulder, his hands grasp onto you and spin you around.

Your lips find a home against each other, and you decide then that the haze Jake fills your mind with, is one you wanted to live in forever.

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