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#jake seresin x reader fanfiction
callsign-dexter · 5 months
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Surprise!
Request: Okay okay, you got me with protective Jake !! 😱This makes me think of an idea where the reader is his childhood friend but they haven't seen each other in a while due to his job. So you decide to surprise him at the base when he doesn't expect it, to tell him as well you're moving back to San Diego and he's more than speechless and unbelievable happy. So you catch up on the lost time and he gets always into protective mode when the other guys come near you but you become friends with all the daggers and Jake's mood lightened up 100% since you're here and it's all perfect ? 🫣
Pairings: Jake Seresin x Best Friend!Reader
Warnings: fluff
Masterlist
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San Diego, the sunniest and probably the warmest place on earth. You had just arrived and stepped out of your car in sunny San Diego. You loved it already and would continue to love it for the whole time you would be living there. The reason you were here was because you wanted to see your childhood friend, Jake Seresin, and you would be moving here after a wonderful job opportunity at none other than Top Gun. No, you weren’t a pilot but you were going to be the new maintenance supervisor for the F-18s. You were excited to say the least. You didn’t have a lot of stuff due to moving around. You needed a place to stay and quickly since you started tomorrow. First you needed to get to base and say hi to your bosses, which is where you were now. It was easy to get onto base considering you had your military ID. You knew that Jake was here and you were excited to see him.
As you walked into the building you passed many people in their military uniforms. You weren’t in yours considering you had just arrived. When you were halfway to Beau “Cyclone” Simpson’s office you heard a voice that you hadn’t heard in forever and a smile popped onto your face and you followed it. You walked over to the voices and saw the tall, blonde, and green-eyed man he was going on about something nobody had seemed to notice you besides a blonde haired and blue-eyed man with glasses and he smiled and waved and you waved back. As Jake took a break in his little back and forth, he was having with a darked haired woman you decided to speak up. “Don’t believe anything he says. He tends to over exaggerate on stories.” You said and you could see him tense up and started to turn around.
“How the hell-” He began and then he saw you and the tension melted away and had the biggest smile on his face “Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asked, bringing you into a hug that you missed so much.
“Well, I decided to surprise you! So, surprise! Also, I’m moving here.” You said and hugged him back and closed your eyes.
“Wow, I don’t know what to say.” He said as he pulled away.
“Bagman, not knowing what to say? That’s a first.” A man with a mustache said and everyone laughed as Jake flipped him off. “You gonna introduce us?” He asked but Jake couldn’t stop looking at you smiling and you shook your head.
“I’m Y/N “Galaxy” Y/L/N, the new F-18 Maintenance Supervisor.” You said
“I heard we were getting a new one but that was about it. Hi, I’m Natasha Trace callsign Phoenix.” Natasha said “Let me just add, thank you for finally getting Bagman here to shut up and it’s going to be so nice having another female around here.” She said and then pulled you into a hug and you laughed.
“I’m Javy Machado callsign Coyote. Jake here has told me a lot about you.” He said and you chuckled.
“All good things I hope.” You said with a chuckle and elbowed Jake you had rolled his eyes at you but the smile never left his face.
“I’m Robert Floyd callsign Bob.” Bob said and you smiled at him.
“I love the callsign. It is so simple and I love it. Plus, your glasses make you look cute.” You said and he blushed and ducked his head. There was one thing about you that Jake loved and that is that you said what you thought and took crap from anyone.
“I’m Bradley Bradshaw callsign Rooster.” Bradley walked over and took your hand and kissed it and you smiled and Jake did not like that one bit.
“Back off, Chicken.” Jake said, taking your hand out of his and pushing him away and you just shook your head.
“Mickey Gracia callsign Fanboy. Maybe that you're around Jake will lighten up and stop being well Jake.” Mickey said and you turned to look at Jake.
“Have you been a jerk to them?” You asked and he shook his head.
“It’s called tough love.” He said
“Tough love my ass. I’m Ruben Fitz callsign Payback.” He said and shook your hand.
“Galaxy? How did you get that name?” Natasha asked and you smiled.
“Jake gave it to me first then my old squad gave it to me despite not being an aviator. I loved looking at the stars and knew everything about the galaxy and space. I geeked out once and the name just stuck.” You said with a smile and so did Jake he remembered when it happened.
“I love it.” Natasha said
“Why thank you.” You said and then looked at your watch “I need to go and meet Cyclone. Jake, do you want me to show me the way to his office?” You asked and he nodded his head and put a hand on your back as you both turned and started to head off. “It was nice meeting you all. I look forward to working with you and hanging out with you.” You called over your shoulder as you got a chorus of ‘you too’ and ‘goodbye’.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Jake asked as you walked.
“I literally got the call about it yesterday.” You said and leaned into him briefly.
“I just can’t believe you’re here and staying.” He said and you smiled. Jake was like a brother to you. He was there through every breakup and every emergency trip. The thought of you two dating didn’t sit well with either of you so it was never pursued. You both were happy being friends. “Have you found a place yet?” He asked and you shook your head.
“Nope.” You said popping the p.
“Well, you’re in luck. I need a roommate.” He said
“Jake.” You started
“I’m not taking no for an answer.” He said and you sighed.
“Fine. I’ll meet you at my Jeep after I’m done here.” You said as you both arrived at the office.
“Deal.” He said as you knocked on the door and heard a faint ‘come in’ and you turned the handle and walked in giving Jake a smile.
——————————————————————
The meeting went great and as you said your goodbyes to Cyclone, Warlock, and Maverick you walked to your Jeep where Jake was standing and he smiled when he saw you. “How was it?” He asked and you smiled.
“Went really well! I'm excited to be working with y'all.” You said as your southern accent came out just a tiny bit like it always dies when you were around Jake.
“Great! Now I know my jet is in great hands under a person that I trust.” He said and gave you a little nudge. “Now let's get to my place where you'll be staying.” He said.
“I'll stay until I find myself a place.” You said as you opened the driver's side door and he shook his head.
“Not a chance.” Jake said and you chuckled.
“We'll see about that. I'll follow you.” You told him and he nodded as you got into your Jeep and him into his truck that was right beside yours. It didn't take long to get to his place and he lived close to the base and a bar called The Hard Deck which you think you'd really like. He pulled into the driveway and you pulled in right next to him. You were just about to get out when he opened the door for you.
“Now we can catch up and then meet everyone at The Hard Deck.” He said as you got out “We can unpack you later.” He added when he saw you looking at your stuff about to grab it. You huffed he always knew what you were thinking.
“Fine.” You said and followed him into the cozy little house and when you walked in you were surprised by how warm it felt.
“Beer?” He asked and you nodded.
“Please.” You said as he walked to the fridge as he set his keys down and you did the same. He grabbed two and then pointed towards the living room where you followed and sat on the couch. He opened the beer and gave it to you.
“So, what have you been up to? It’s been forever and I missed you.” Jake said as he took a drink of his beer and then looked at you as you took a drink of your beer.
“Well, let’s see I was last stationed at Naval Air Station Fallon in Fallon, Nevada and then we got deployed to South Korea for 6 months and then we came back and I got stationed at Top Gun. My mother died 2 months ago due to an incurable illness and then dad died a month after. My brother and sister never talk to me and they only showed up for the funeral and then left. My boyfriend of 5 months broke up with me because he cheated on me while I was deployed.” You told him and he looked at you with an unrecognizable look on his face, one that almost was of pity. “Don’t look at me like that.” You said and turned to look away from him as you took a drink of your beer.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Jake said not knowing what to say.
“It’s alright. I’ve always had a rough life so this is nothing new.” You said and looked at him and he shook his head.
“You don’t deserve this. Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve been down there in an instant.” Jake asked you set your beer on the coffee table and turned to look at him fully.
“Because we hadn’t talked in years. We saw each other at graduation and then you were heading off to basic training.” You said “I went two years after you. I was taking care of mom. I didn’t want to go but she didn’t want to hold me back and told me to go and so I did.” You said with a shrug and he sat his beer down on the coffee table next to yours and pulled you into a hug.
“I’m here for you now, Galaxy. You’re not getting rid of me anytime soon, I promise.” He said and hugged him back and sunk into his embrace you truly did miss his hugs and his smell. You closed your eyes taking in the warmth and felt him drop a kiss onto your head. After a few moments of being in each other's arms you both released each other. You two stayed up and talked about your lives and just catching up in general and then you both ending up falling asleep.
——————————————————————
The next morning you both got up early and had breakfast together and then you both were heading off the base. Neither you, Jake, or any of The Daggers saw each other throughout the day, due to you being busy getting into a routine and meeting your teammates that you really liked and everyone got along unlike your last squad. Before you knew it, it was time to leave while packing up getting ready to leave Jake and The Daggers showed up and you smiled when you heard Jake calling out your name. “Hey, Galaxy! We’re heading off to The Hard Deck. Wanna join?” He asked and you smiled.
“Of course! Let me finish up here and I’ll be there.” You said and went back to finishing up what you needed. He turned to the others.
“You guys go on. We’ll meet you there.” Jake said
“Woah! Jake waiting up for someone? That’s new.” Mickey said and Jake rolled his eyes.
“I can be nice when people deserve it. Now go on. We’ll meet you there.” He said and they left. You smiled and shook your head and in no time you were done and you both were heading off to The Hard Deck.
When you reached your destination he opened the door for you and the both of you walked in and straight to the bar. You saw a nice blonde haired woman working and she smiled at Jake. “Jake, I see you finally decided to join! Who is this you have with you?” She asked.
“Penny meet Y/N. Y/N meet Penny. She is the owner of the bar.” Jake said and you and Penny smiled at each other.
“Hi Penny! Nice to meet you! You have such a lovely place.” You said and she smiled.
“Oh don’t flatter me. What can I get you?” She asked
“Let me see if I still remember it.” Jake cut in and you tipped your head in a motion like ‘go on’ with a smirk “She’ll take a Long Island Iced Tea with lemon and put it on my tab.” He said, looking at you as you nodded.
“You got it.” Penny said
“You actually remembered.” You said
“Of course. How could I forget?” Jake said as Penny came back with your drink and what you were assuming was his original.
“Thank you, Penny.” You said and smiled and nodded and you both headed over to the group where you all greeted each other.
“Where have you been all this time?” Natasha asked and you looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“What do you mean?” You asked her.
“Ever since you have come here, Jake has been so much happier and so much more friendly and he hasn’t been leaving anybody hanging.” Natasha said and everyone agreed.
“She makes me happy. I would do anything for her.” He said and you nodded and it was left at that. As the night went on you had been hit on more times than you could count or liked but you didn’t have to worry about it for long because Jake was always there to scare them off and you were grateful and you weren’t looking for a relationship right now. You were quick to make friends with everyone especially Bob, he was quiet and reserved and you really liked that and he didn’t try to hit on you.
As you mingled about with the squad Jake stood back watching and smiling. He was definitely glad to have you close and it was true you did make him happy. He was a little protective when the guys tried to hit on you and he was there ready to step in but you handled and they quickly backed down. Everyone quickly became protective of you especially when it came to strangers coming up to you and trying to get with you and let Jake back down on his protectiveness some but not all the way. Jake was just happy to have his true friend that he had known for years back in his life and he was not letting go this time.
Tag list:
@kmc1989
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@angenu01-blog
@talesofreading
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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okay okay soo, I've yet to watch the movie but I've had a thought jdjd
what about dbf!jake seresin, maybe you're in town away from university to visit your dad and thought you'd surprise jake by waiting for him at the bar but then he walks in to see some of the guys bothering you- he sort of strikes me as the protective bf type jdjc
today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)
combined with: dbf!jake overhearing one of the guys at the bar coming on a little strong and he obviously wants to step in but doesn’t until the guys try to grab you and your terrified eyes immediately search for him and suddenly he’s ready fight a man
--
Texan bars especially, are like no other. There's an atmosphere that you can't get anywhere else, and they leave you feeling like the state you're in is suddenly your entire identity. But apparently, not when you're young. Going clubbing in college is supposed to be fun. It's supposed to be messy kisses by the bar that might turn into a fling, it's supposed to be hammered uber rides at 3:30 AM, and it's not supposed to be three older men standing around you like vultures.
Older men, you decide, are only attractive when they aren't approaching you because of the age gap.
"You're a pretty little thing," One croons, breath sour, and you're starting to realize that there's no man your age in this bar, "Are you even old enough to drink?"
"Yes," You huff, hand tightening around your glass in case you need to smash it over someone's head, "And I'm waiting for someone. So please leave me alone."
"Just someone?" One of them, stationed to your left, parrots, "So not a date?"
You scowl, "Go away."
"I mean, I'm not sure why we should, then." You glance to your right, cringing at the man who steps forward with what you're sure is supposed to be a charming smile, "It's not like you're tied down yet."
"We could tie 'er down," One cracks, elbowing the one in front of you with a grizzly grin.
Just before you can raise your glass to drive a shard into his eyes, a hand slips over your shoulder, squeezing tight. You glance up and your entire body relaxes when you see Jake, all broad-chested and intimidating as he stares the men down.
"You even think about tying her down and I'll use the rope to choke you out," He promises, "She's off the market."
You stand strong only until they're gone, and then you're spinning to throw your arms around Jake's shoulders so fast that even he gets startled. His eyes go wide and he lets out a gasp as you jam your face into his shoulder, but it dissolves into a fond chuckle as he melts into the embrace you've trapped him in.
"Hi, darlin'." He croons, rubbing his hands down your back, "You alright? Those guys were creeps."
"I'm fine," You promise, relishing in the comforting feel of his chest pressed to yours, "Now that you're here I don't think anyone else will bother me."
"Damn right," He grumbles, only letting you break away from the hug so that he can curl his arm around your waist, keeping you pressed into his side, "You tell me if anyone so much as looks at y'wrong, I'll take care of it."
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lass-that-is-gone · 2 years
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Getting Even
PAIRING: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader
A/N: Hangman is a walking red flag in this fic, but this writer would gladly ignore that flag just to climb that long and thick flagpole :P And this is a reminder to use your company provided assets for business use only and be mindful with what you browse on company wifi! 
---
Your heavy footsteps were audible against the croon of the jukebox as you stormed towards Hangman that night. Heads turned towards your direction, curious at the brewing commotion. Even the pilots around him noticed you, they looked at each other inquisitively. There’s an unspoken agreement that the pool area belonged to the junior officers at around that time of the night, so your sudden intrusion in their bubble raised a lot of proverbial eyebrows.
You don’t give a damn.
White-hot rage coursed through your veins that night, bubbling just beneath your skin. Your jaw felt a bit raw as you gnashed your teeth together in contempt all day, silently seething.
You’ve never felt this kind of anger towards someone. You’ve always been even-tempered and friendly, always hesitant to upset the status quo. But this was different.
Everyone knows you shouldn’t piss off anyone from Cyber. Apparently, Hangman did not get the memo. Rank be damned, you are not going to let what he did slide.
“Seresin!” You called out, your voice sharp and steady despite the angry flush on your face. Liquor and anger never did wonders on your skin. Everyone’s eyes widened, obviously noticing how you intentionally avoided calling him by his rank.
You could hear the faint jingling of coins and crinkling of bills as bets were made. It was always an amusement when a pilot gets chewed out by the woman he jilted. Especially if it was Hangman.
He straightened up from his position at the pool table, raising an eyebrow at you.
“What the fuck is your problem?” You snarled. He was a whole foot taller than you and you had to crane your neck to stare at his face, but at that moment, the only vivid thing was Hangman’s stupidly handsome face paired with that amused smile.
“Honey, if I’m getting you all hot and bothered, then I don’t think I have a problem.” He replied, dragging an appreciative eye from your head down to your toes.
His nonchalance enraged you more. “You, are a pig. How dare you escalate me to my CO? It was your fault and you know it!”
Your shouting drew in a crowd around you. His usual posse of Navy pilots were close by, but they are simply watching, already invested in the confrontation.
His forehead scrunched in confusion, looking at you like you’re some kind of lunatic vying for his attention. “I’m not sure I get what you mean.”
Something inside you snapped. You are not just going to stand there and receive this kind of treatment. This man intentionally ignored your team’s email regarding the malware detected in his laptop. When you approved the isolation of his machine and disablement of his account, he threw a fit and made a beeline to your CO, citing unprofessionalism and ineffective communications from your team.
You and your team received an earful from your CO, right in front of Hangman, who refused to even look at all of your correspondence with the Lieutenant. You tried to argue your case, but Hangman silenced you with a “Shh, let the grown-ups talk.”
The thought of it fanned the flames of anger within you. You’re not leaving without getting the apology you and your team deserved.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” You placed a hand on your chest in mock apology, “Was ticket# 20191032 not your problem? Not your problem when we detected a malware from your Student Files folder?”
And that’s when you know you hit a chord. You watched with perverse glee as his eyes widened in recognition. “Alright, alright—”
“No, Hangman, let’s hear what Cyber found in your Student Files folder.” One his colleagues interjected. His grin partnered with his moustache was incredibly infectious that you couldn’t help but match it with one of your own.
You know it’s classified information, but at the panicked look on his usually smug face, you couldn’t help but be petty. “Well, they’re mostly po—"
He swiftly covered your mouth with large, calloused hand, wrapping an arm around you and keeping you close to your chest. “OKAY! Honey, let’s talk about this outside, yes?”
There were groans and whines and someone even tossed peanut shells as he dragged you outside, robbing them of a good show. How he managed to drag you out of the bar, kicking and screaming, you’ll never know. You’re already exhausted and you’re probably bruised in several places by the time you’re both outside.
He finally let you go, and you immediately put a yard of space between the two of you. Hangman was massaging his hand that you’ve bitten as he glared at you. “Honey can you please calm down for a minute?”
“Keep calling me honey and I might just punch your face.” You spat at him, crossing your arms over your chest.
He chuckled condescendingly, licking his lips before speaking, “What’s got your panties in a twist? I just gave honest feedback.”
“Yeah, directly to my CO and conveniently leaving out details!” You exclaimed, stomping your foot in indignation. “We got chewed out today, because of you!”
“I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be my problem.” He said, holding both arms up as if he had nothing to do with it. At that point, you could see it clear as day—he was playing you by riling you up even more.
He clearly has an ego big enough to not see you as an equal who deserved his attention and apology.
You grabbed him by the collar, bringing your face close to his. It would’ve been intimate and inappropriate, because technically he’s a higher-ranking officer, but all you saw was red.
“Not your problem?” You hissed. “How selfish can you be, Seresin?”
And you regretted the word selfish as soon as it came out of your mouth, because something seemed to snap behind his eyes. There was a sudden change in his demeanor, there’s an assertiveness that wasn’t there before. Feral, almost.
“Yeah, I am selfish.” He muttered before he grabbed your face and kissed you.
To say that you were stunned was an understatement. This was the furthest thing from your mind when you decided to confront him that night. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest—it was all you could hear as his lips moved languidly against yours. Not that you were kissing back, your mind was still trying to process the sudden shift for you to make any sort of response. But you stood there and felt every bone in your body turn into mush. If you weren’t pressed flush against him, you’d slide down gracelessly.
Clarity came to mind when you felt his hands tangle into your hair. The light touch sent a shiver down your body, goosebumps raising in its wake.
You pulled away abruptly, chest heaving. How dare he? You pulled your arm back and gave him a resounding smack on his left cheek, making him stumble slightly from the force your slap.
“You’re an asshole!” You spat at him before you turned on your heel and ran away, eyes prickling with oncoming tears.
---
You were tempted to call in sick that day, but you thought that doing so would make you appear weak and incredibly affected by his kiss—you’re neither. Well, you did stay up tossing and turning in your bed for most of the night, replaying the kiss over and over in your mind, but that was probably just adrenaline. You did slap him with all you’ve got.
That thought made you smile as you tapped your badge and entered the control room.
Your eyes immediately zoomed in on the bouquet of flowers on your desk. They were hyacinths, in various colors, wrapped in pink cotton paper and secured by a golden ribbon. You bit your lip as you picked it up and checked the card.
I’m sorry.
You knew exactly who it was from. Rolling your eyes, you stashed the bouquet underneath your desk.
Apparently, he was narcissistic enough to think that a bouquet of flowers would get him out of your shit list. It was not in your personality to hold grudges, but you definitely have a low opinion of him now. He could pull a Heath Ledger and sing Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You in the grandstand and he’ll still be nothing but dirt on your shoe.
Your fresh-faced analysts definitely asked about the confrontation at Hard Deck the night before. They asked you if you did punch Hangman, the Hangman, in the face, apparently his cheek appeared to be a bit swollen when he swaggered to work that morning.
Not that you cared. Or felt bad about it. Nope.
Of course, the discarded bouquet did not escape their eyes either. They put two and two together and deducted that the bouquet was Hangman. You could swear that one of your female analysts swooned. It was a struggle to work when there’s a constant hubbub around you.
Lunch was even worse. Everyone wanted to talk to the woman who punched Hangman. One called you their hero. Apparently, a lot of people wanted to do so and you couldn’t blame them. You didn’t even correct them that you actually just slapped him. You just went with the flow and tried your best to finish your meal and go on your way.
Some of Hangman’s friends even approached you and gave you a high five. The situation made you feel like the nerdy kid in movies who finally got accepted by the queen bee’s posse.
“But seriously, are you okay? He sort of manhandled you out of the bar.” The female pilot who introduced herself as Phoenix asked.
You flashed her a reassuring smile. “Thanks, I’m okay. You should’ve seen the other guy.”
The group erupted in laughter. You joined them, but you definitely noticed Hangman’s absence.
---
The next day, another bouquet was on your desk. They were tulips this time. It also happened that tulips were your favorite. You did a quick sweep around you to make sure that no one is looking, before cradling the bouquet with a small smile, reading the card.
Forgive me yet?
It’s amazing how three simple words could sound undeniably Hangman. Against your better judgement, your smile widened. The flowers and the note brought a pleasant thrum inside you, making stomach do somersaults. The guy’s obviously a dick, but he knew his flowers.
Despite your affection for the tulips, and your amusement at the card, you hid them away underneath your desk again. Briefly you wondered how he managed to enter the control room twice. He obviously does not have the access to do so. But then again, it’s Hangman, if he can manipulate your CO into berating you, then he surely can enter the SOC control room anytime he wanted.
Everyone seemed to have forgotten your bout at the Hard Deck, to your delight. Everyone was just striving to finish as much work as they can on a Friday. You finalized your weekly reports and fixed the shift roster for the weekend, glancing at the bouquet of flowers from time to time. It made you think of Hangman.
And just when you thought you could go home early and take a relaxing bath and watch Mamma Mia for the 14th time, one the analysts called in sick. So, you opted to stay in and hold the fort up until the next scheduled analyst comes in in two hours.
By the time 7PM rolled around, your stomach was rumbling. As if on cue, the door opened and revealed the next analyst on shift. After a quick handover, you gathered your things—and the bouquets—and bid them goodbye.
The parking lot was mostly empty, so the tall figure was leaning against your car door stuck out sorely. You felt your pulse quicken as you approached him, your lips pressing into a thin line in apprehension.
“You sure took your sweet time, hon.” Hangman drawled, the ever-present toothpick now absent from his mouth. He is an asshole and has questionable morals, but damn, was he extremely easy on the eyes. The way rocked the denim and leather jacket combo can definitely give a model a run for their money.
“I don’t have the energy for this, honestly. I’m starving and exhausted, bother me tomorrow, Hangman.” You said with a resigned sigh. You fished your keys out of your pocket and made a show of stepping around him as you open the car door.
“This won’t take long. I promise.” He looked like he wanted to cling to your arm and beg.
You stared at him head on for about 5 seconds before you sighed and threw your things inside your car. “Okay you have two minutes.”
“That’s hardly—”
“Time is ticking.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. He’s either trying to find his words or he’s forcing himself to apologize.
“Here goes. First, I want to apologize for reporting you to your CO. I know you’re just doing your job, and following the process, but I just wanted to trouble you the way I was inconvenienced when you disabled my account. That was petty of me.” He licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair. “Second, I’m sorry for disrespecting you. I know you are perfectly capable, the best, even. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel otherwise.”
Well, that pulled a small smile from you. You’ve always taken pride at what you do. It might not be as flashy as flying fighter jets or heading into war, but cybersecurity is another league of its own. His recognition meant a lot to you. You looked him in the eye and nodded, encouraging him to continue.
“Lastly, I am truly, sorry that I kissed you without your permission. My mother raised me better than that.” He said, shaking his head. And then he looked at you intensely, capturing your gaze in his. “But I am not sorry I kissed you, because I meant it.”
His confession pleased you, bringing back the feeling from this morning, when you found the tulips on your desk. Only this time, it was stronger, almost incandescent. You weren’t really angry anymore, but you took his words with caution. They say you couldn’t trust a pretty face, Hangman’s looked like his parents mapped his via AutoCAD, but you’re willing to gamble.
You lifted your hand, ignoring how he subtly flinched in fear, and touched his left cheek. He leaned into your touch.
“Apology accepted, Seresin.”
He let out a relieved sigh, chuckling slightly. His hand covered yours, staying that way for a minute before he let go. You realized that apologies probably took a lot from someone like him. He did have a big ego and narcissistic tendencies, but figured they were facades he wore as a defense mechanism.
“Thank you. So, are we good?”
“Buy me dinner and we’re even.”
-End-
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simpforrooster · 9 months
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nothing but a gentleman.
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Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x F!Reader
summary: jake is obsessed with you. you eat it up. you’re obsessed with his obsession. but also with him.
t/w: soft!jake, some cursing
"Get out of here, Bagman. You're giving me a headache."
The blonde aviator grabs at his chest. "God, I love it when you're mean to me." Those green eyes sparkle with mischief under the lights of the Hard Deck.
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin has been pining after you for months.
& you have been loving every second of it. Miramar's resident playboy has only had eyes for you. You haven't seen him spare a glance at any of the other ladies in the bar.
Believe me, they've been looking at him.
"Y/n, how long are you going to keep my boy at arm's length?" Coyote asks from the other side of the pool table. Jake saddles up next to him and feeds you the saddest pout he can muster.
"Yeah, y/n, how long?" Jake asks.
Your intention wasn't to drag this hard-to-get play out for so long. Truthfully, it's becoming hard not to give in to those strong arms. To not lean in when he invades your personal space, feeding you a smart ass comment.
Your shoulder comes up to your ear and falls back down. "Hard to say, Bagman."
"Let's play for it," he tells you. Jake saunters over to you, and leans against the pool table. Crossing his arms over his fit chest, he situates his mouth just outside your ear. "If I win, you've gotta give me a kiss, darlin'."
The way his hot breath falls across your ear causes goosebumps to appear down your arms. Jake notices, and a blonde brow raises.
"What are you? Twelve?" you antagonize.
"Oh, honey. I'm willing to try anything at this point."
"Rack 'em. Honey." You lightly shove him back, your hands reacting to the small second they were on his chest.
"If I win, you give it up," you send the man a sad look.
"Give what up?" he asks.
"All this pining'." Your hand gestures wildly around in the air.
For a moment, despair crosses over that handsome face. He recovers quickly. "Oh, I'm not worried."
Jake lets you break. Two stripes fall into the pocket. Jake comes up behind you before your next shot. His hand slides across your waist and he pulls you into his side.
Right as you pull back, Jake leans down. "Don't scratch."
The cueball follows your striped ball into the pocket.
"Damn," he murmurs. It takes a full 45 seconds to get your heart rate under control.
The jig is up once Jake get in control of the pool table. Not only is he the dagger squad's best dart player, he's got the best pool table on lock, too. There is no way he's going to take it easy on you.
Naturally, he doesn't.
"One more and Hangman gets a kiss," he smirks. He doesn't take his eyes off your as he pulls back and send the cue ball sailing.
The eight ball falls into it's intended pocket effortlessly. Followed right by the cue ball.
Shock falls across all your faces. Jake has never lost a game of pool. Ever.
Jake sets the cue stick down, and rounds the table. Standing toe-to-toe with you, he feeds you a delicious smirk.
"Darlin', I ain't gonna make you kiss me if you don't want to. Furthermore, I only want your kiss if its of your own volition." He tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear.
Your eyes lock with his and the world stops. What a fucking gentleman.
Fisting the front of his shirt, you yank him down to your mouth. Jake relaxes into the kiss immediately and allows his hands to slide around your waist.
Jake takes control, changing the direction and deepening the kiss. Your hands move from his shirt to the nap of his neck, fingers knotting in his hair. His hair that’s gotten just a bit long.
Jake pulls back just a hair, his lips a breath away from yours. “Damn,” he mumbles, again.
“My own volition, huh?”
“I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” he winks. “A gentleman who is dying to kiss you again.”
You guide his lips back to yours.
“Kiss me, Hangman.”
master list.
a/n: been a little while since i wrote for ole jakey. i hope y'all like it!
4K notes · View notes
roosterforme · 3 months
Text
Sneak Peek | Hangman x Reader
Summary: You spent so much time around the boys, they counted you as one of them. You were firmly stuck in the friend zone with Jake, so it was time to move on with a guy who could see past your flight suits. It's not immediately obvious to either of you that cranky Jake is actually jealous Jake.
Warnings: Fluff, language, mentioned smut, 18+
Length: 6000 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Happy birthday @beyondthesefourwalls!
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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"It's my turn to buy a round," you said, standing up from the table and grabbing the empty beer bottles before turning toward Jimmy and Penny at the bar.
"Thanks, Rodeo," Jake murmured, and you turned back briefly and smiled softly at him. His gaze slid down your body the same way it would with any other woman, the only difference was that he had started to notice just how many other guys were regularly checking you out, too. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that fact.
When you squeezed yourself between two stools at the bar to order four more beers, Bradley asked, "Who are you staring at, Hangman? Rodeo?"
Mickey laughed as Jake quickly shook his head and turned his attention back to his friends. "I just wanted to make sure she can manage carrying everything."
"I'm sure she's fine," Bradley replied with a laugh of his own. "I got a little nervous for a second there."
"Why?" Jake asked, his eyes slowly drifting back to you, watching as you slipped your credit card into the back pocket of your jeans. 
"Because first of all," Bradley said as he smashed open a peanut on the table, "Rodeo is practically one of the guys. And second," he added, popping the peanut into his mouth and chewing, "it would be weird if you start looking at her like you do all the other random pieces of ass you take home with you. Even though she is cute."
"She's cute, for sure," Mickey piped in. "But once you've seen a girl throw up in the parking lot after a drunken karaoke night, the appeal kind of wears off."
Jake smiled as you headed back toward the table, because the drunken karaoke night was when he got to drive you home and carry you to your bed while you repeatedly tried to tell him you could walk by yourself. 
"Oh, you know who else is cute?" Bradley asked just as you set four new beers on the table. "That redhead with the huge tits at the dartboard."
"Damn," Mickey groaned, and now you were looking in that direction, too. But Jake kept his eyes on you. 
"Do we have to talk about this in front of Rodeo?" he asked, sipping his fresh beer and starting to wish Bradley and Mickey would wander off. "In front of a lady?"
Bradley snorted so hard, Jake was surprised his beer didn't shoot out of his nose. "A lady?" he asked as he looked at you and cuffed you on the arm. "Nice try, Hangman, but Rodeo doesn't count."
"Well, you don't count either," you told him, and Bradley tapped the neck of his bottle to yours. "And neither do the two of you." Your gaze met Mickey's before settling on Jake. "You know I don't mind when you guys talk about girls. I get it. You're all hot."
But your knee was rubbing against Jake's thigh at the tiny table, and for a brief flash, he thought maybe he wanted to count in your mind as a guy you could be into.
--------------------------
It was a strange dynamic, working with mostly a bunch of men all the time. They saw you in a flight suit once, and they never looked at you like you were a female ever again. And that was fine. It made your job easier in a lot of ways. There were fewer distractions, and you knew for a fact that they liked you for your personality. They wouldn't invite you to hang out all the time if they didn't.
But on nights like this, it did sting a little bit to watch the three of them tripping over themselves to go talk to the redhead who was clearly eating up the attention. You were essentially wearing the same outfit she was: jeans and a black shirt. And you thought you looked cute. And what exactly was wrong with your boobs? You looked down at your body and kind of shrugged. You didn't get it. 
Natasha handed you a pool cue, and you sank a shot. You made up the excuse that you wanted to play so the guys wouldn't feel bad about abandoning you to go talk to girls, but Jake had been hesitant at first, so you shoved him along. That was a mistake, because you were reminded of how solid and muscular he was under his soft shirt. 
The first few times you glanced his way, he was already looking back at you. If he were any other guy, you would have just asked him out by now, but you were so firmly in the friend zone with all of them that it was embarrassing. The rejection would be laughable. 
So you put your head down and focused on the game and the chit chat around you. But after a while you got curious, and when you looked up again, Bradley and Mickey were walking back toward the table where your empty beer bottle sat. Jake had won. The redhead was running her fingernails through his hair. It was all over for the night. 
You weren't jealous. You weren't. You just didn't understand why it couldn't be you. As you sank the eight ball, you said, "I'm beat. I'm going to head home."
"Me too. Want a lift?" Mickey asked, and you nodded, not sparing a single glance back at Jake. 
Maybe you were the problem. Maybe you weren't sexy. You spent most of Sunday scrutinizing yourself in your bedroom mirror and going through all of your clothing. There really wasn't much of it since your closet was lined with uniforms and flight suits. And when you looked in the mirror, it wasn't like you could even tell what the problem was. You were just you, but it was starting to feel like you'd been playing around in this male-dominated world for so long, you were just blending in there. 
"Fuck it," you muttered reaching for your phone. There was a text from Bradley detailing the pricing for tickets to a Padres game, which you desperately wanted to go to. It sounded fun. Then you realized the beer drinking and peanut eating would simply be moved to a different venue in which the guys would be looking at all the other women around you. Suddenly it didn't sound so fun.
There were also a handful of texts from Jake. He must have kicked his guest out early if he was asking how you were doing this morning. You sent back a short message before finding the app on your screen that had been dormant since you got stationed in San Diego last summer. Tinder. It was right there. 
Nervously, you entered your login information, terrified that you'd just end up with a bunch of guys you saw on base as your best options. They would undoubtedly take one look at you and have the same reaction your male friends did. But you spent the rest of the day thinking about it. You looked, but you didn't sample. You found some guys who were surprisingly not in the Navy, but you didn't swipe. And maybe part of the reason you didn't was because Jake kept texting you all day long.
Monday was your tipping point. You were all ready to fly in your boots and flight suit when you ended up surrounded by the guys in the hangar. "We getting Padres tickets, Rodeo?" Bradley asked. "Day drinking at Petco Park?"
You nodded at him. "Sounds fun."
Then Mickey cut in as Jake walked over. "Hey, Hangman. How was our little redheaded friend?" he asked with a smirk, but Jake's expression stayed the same as his eyes met yours. 
"Wouldn't know."
"Oof," Bradley said with a goading laugh. "What, you kicked her out without even talking to her afterwards?"
You swallowed and looked down at your boots as you thought about the guys on the dating app. Maybe a little change of scenery wouldn't hurt anything after all.
-----------------------------
"Can you just knock it the fuck off?" Jake snapped. "I didn't even spend the night with her." He watched you put your helmet on as you walked toward your jet. "And I don't like talking about this shit around Rodeo anymore."
"Alright," Bradley replied with a tiny smirk. "No need to get mad about it."
When Jake took to the air, you were all business, as usual. You and he flew well together, like you always did. But back on the ground at lunchtime, you barely spared a glance in his direction in the cafeteria. Instead, you were completely absorbed in something on your phone as you picked at your food.
"What's wrong?" he eventually asked, and you looked up at him like you were surprised he was still there. 
"Nothing," you murmured, taking a drink before returning your attention to your phone. "Just working on something."
"On what?" he asked, voice almost as snippy as it had been earlier. He found he didn't like it when your attention wasn't focused on him, which was absolutely infuriating, because it's not like the two of you were anything. 
"My Tinder profile," you replied smoothly as you licked your lips, and Jake thought he must have misheard. Since when were you looking for a guy?
"Tinder?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed. "I'm just trying to sort out which photo to use, because I like this one where I'm in my flight suit, but guys don't really tend to go for that sort of thing."
You turned your phone to show him, and Jake swallowed hard. It was a photo he had taken a few months ago. He remembered that day. Your sunglasses were hooked on the top of your suit, and your helmet was tucked under your arm, and your smile was infectious. 
"I like that one," he told you softly. 
But you just rolled your eyes and groaned. "But you don't count, now do you?"
Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Why are you on Tinder anyway?"
Now you laughed as you set your phone down. "Why do you think?"
He didn't want to think about it, even though he knew why. You were looking to hookup with someone. Or maybe it was even worse. Maybe you were looking for an actual boyfriend. Someone to spend all your time with. You'd be at the Hard Deck after work less frequently. You'd be going to the Padres game with some faceless idiot, and he'd be the one carrying you home after you overdid it at karaoke night. Worse yet, you could have your pick of any guy on that app who caught your eye, but Jake knew for a fact none of them were good enough for you. 
"Rodeo," he grunted, unsure how to voice his concerns. You just tapped your screen a few times and then smiled at him as his heart clenched a little bit.
"I went with the photo from Reuben's wedding instead."
Jake ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't even have to ask. He also knew that photo well too. His voice was soft as he said, "Blue dress. Holding a martini. Hand on your hip." He didn't like the idea of a bunch of guys he didn't even know looking at you wearing something so pretty.
"That's the one! And now my bio is live on the app," you said as you tapped your screen one last time. "Wish me luck."
You stood with your tray and Jake told himself he would do no such thing.
---------------------------
"That photo must have done the trick," you mumbled the following day in the rec room on base as Natasha helped you sort through your matches.
"I'm sure it did," she replied in awe. "You look hot in it."
You wanted to believe her, but it didn't even matter right now, because the two of you were staring at a photo of a hot guy who had sent you a message. You gasped. "Is this for real?"
"Looks like it," she replied. "If you don't fuck him, I will. Happily."
"What are the two of you over here whispering about?" You looked up into Jake's smiling eyes and gave him a grin of your own.
"Rodeo is getting all the Tinder hotties," Natasha replied, and suddenly Jake's smile vanished. "Let me know if he sends you a dick pic."
"He better fucking not!" Jake growled as he tried to reach for your phone. "Show me what this asshole looks like so I know who to pound to dust if he sends you one." You rolled your eyes and held up your phone so he could see. "His name is Tony? And he's a dentist?"
"What's wrong with that?" you asked quickly.
Jake crossed his arms over his chest. "If you have to ask, then you don't want to know."
You scoffed and opened your messages. "You're being dramatic. And I don't get on you about who you decide to hook up with."
"So you're just trying to hook up with this asshole?" he asked, his lips curling in disgust.
Honestly, you weren't really sure. But he sounded nice in the messages he sent. "Would it really be so bad if I was?"
Jake scrutinized your face like he was in pain, and you had the craziest thought flash through your mind that perhaps he was jealous. But then the pinched lines on his forehead vanished, and his voice was completely calm as he said, "You do what you want, Rodeo. But don't come crying to me about it later."
"Fine," you told him as he walked away. And that's what spurred you to reply to Tony's message with a more flirtatious one of your own. You were allowed to hook up with him. You were allowed to go out on a date. Maybe you'd even eventually request a dick pic. Jake wasn't in charge of your Tinder profile or dating agenda.
A few short exchanges back and forth was all it took, and suddenly you had plans for Saturday night that didn't involve hanging with the guys at the Hard Deck for once. Tony was going to take you out to dinner, and you were already excited.
----------------------
"Where the hell is Rodeo?" Bradley asked as he returned to the table with three bottles of beer instead of four. "She's usually here by seven."
Jake rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "She's not coming. She's on a date with some smug looking asshole named Tony."
"Good for her," Mickey piped up, earning a glare from Jake. "I hope she gets laid. You wanna grab Javy and play pool?"
With a groan, Jake dragged himself out of his seat and forced his body through the motions. He hit the cue ball with perfect precision, but meanwhile, all he could think about was some other guy's hands all over your body while he shoved his tongue down your throat. "Fuck," he growled, trying to fight the urge to text you. If you wanted him, you knew how to reach him. 
Between shots, he glanced around the bar at all the other women, but he couldn't find a single one as pretty as you. He spent the rest of his night barely conversing with his friends while he hoped that your date was a complete flop. And when he left to head home alone, he caved and texted you to make sure you got back to your place safely. 
That was over twelve hours ago. Jake still hadn't heard back from you. It was damn near noon on Sunday, and he was left assuming that you spent the night with Tinder Tony. When you finally texted him back, the response made him toss his phone aside. 
Sorry, just seeing this now. Yes, I made it home safely. See you tomorrow.
Monday was worse. You were glued to your phone at every opportunity you got, and Jake could tell by the little smile on your face that you must be talking to that asshole. 
"Rodeo, how was your hot date?" Bradley asked, bumping your helmet with his while he winked at Jake. 
"Pretty good," you replied with a little laugh. 
"You get laid?" Mickey asked obnoxiously, and you rolled your eyes before glancing at Jake. He was dying to know the answer to the question, but also terrified to hear it. 
"Wouldn't you like to know," you replied, returning your attention to your phone. "Put it this way... I'm going out with him again for dinner on Wednesday."
"Who goes to dinner on a Wednesday?" Jake scoffed. "That's when we usually go to the bar! And what did you and Tinder Tommy even talk about the whole time? Dentures? Teeth?"
"No," you snapped at him. "He told me how pretty he thinks I am, and that he was nervous to meet me in person. And his name is Tony, not Tommy. So don't be rude when we stop by the bar after dinner on Wednesday."
"Can't wait to meet him," Jake grumbled, highly disappointed that your date had been even somewhat successful. And he still wasn't sure if you'd gone home with Tony. Or worse... if he'd gone home with you. 
Jake had crashed in your bed with you once a few months ago when you hosted game night. Mickey, Nat and Bradley all passed out in your living room, so you'd taken him by the hand to your bed. Every time he thought about it, he could practically feel the warmth of your body next to his and your foot hooked over his ankle. The idea of someone else there engaging in pillowtalk or fucking you just right was way too much for him to handle, because he was starting to feel like he wanted to be that person.
------------------------
Okay, so Tony was a little boring. A lot boring, actually. And on Wednesday night at dinner, he actually did mention dentures, and you could practically hear Jake scoffing from the Hard Deck. But Tony was hot and nice and he paid for dinner. Could you really hope for more than that?
"So, you mentioned stopping at a Navy bar?" he asked as you walked back to his car. "I keep forgetting you're even in the Navy. It just doesn't seem like you."
Maybe you should have used the other photo for your dating profile since you'd had to remind him twice already that there were a lot of women in the military now. "Yeah. It's called the Hard Deck. I usually hang out there on Wednesdays, and I thought maybe my friends could meet you?"
"Sure," he replied, and he even played boring music on the way there. But when he walked you inside, he kissed your cheek, and that felt kind of nice until Jake was looking. You felt embarrassed and a little guilty when he scowled at you from the pool table, so you eased yourself away from Tony and took him by the hand instead. 
"Hey, guys," you said cautiously as you approached the pool table. "This is Tony." 
Jake's jaw was clenched tight as he reached out to shake hands with your date in a death grip, and you cringed as he said, "Nice to meet you, Tommy." 
And it all went downhill from there. You had to correct him three times, even though you were sure he knew Tony's name. And even the other guys didn't really seem to mesh well with Tony. Bradley looked scandalized when he told them he didn't like beer or playing pool, and Mickey tried to make a dentist joke that just didn't land. 
You wanted to crawl into your bed and not come back out for a week. You also kind of wanted to ask Jake what his problem was. Tony was a nice guy. His hand on your back felt nice, and his goodnight kiss at your front door was nice. There was even some tongue, and you didn't stop his roaming fingers. Maybe another date or two and you'd ask him to come in.
"Would you like to get dinner on Saturday night?" he asked as his lips grazed your neck. "At the Boathouse?"
You closed your eyes and leaned back, and the image of Jake took over. His lips were on your earlobe, and he was whispering your name as you led him to your room. His hands were settling on your hips and squeezing gently as you melted into his touch.
"What do you think?" Tony asked, and you were jarred back to reality by his voice.
You swallowed hard and nodded as you opened your door. "Saturday night sounds good," you said as you ducked inside. "See you then."
You couldn't have Jake. You just needed to get it through your head that he didn't want you like that.
------------------------------
Jake knew he was behaving poorly even as he was doing it. Tony looked annoyed by him, and you looked embarrassed, but he just kept calling him the wrong name and standing off to the side like a dick. He was actually the asshole. Not Tony. And he needed to apologize to you at work the next day. 
He found you in the hangar, pacing back and forth as you played with the strap on your helmet. When you turned, he started to say, "Hey, Rodeo, I'm really-"
"I need your help," you blurted out when you saw him heading your way. "I need you to come shopping with me tomorrow after work, because I wore my only two dresses already, and everything else in my closet is ridiculous. And Tony is taking me to the Boathouse on Saturday, so I can't just throw something together and call it a day."
Jake ground his back teeth together. The Boathouse was nice. As in, he could think of at least three people he knew who got engaged there. How much money did dentists make anyway? He was full blown jealous now. He knew that. But you'd asked him for help, so of course he was going to do whatever you wanted. Your eager eyes were enough to make him agree on the spot.
"Where are we going shopping?" he asked softly. 
You looked so relieved as you said, "The mall. I don't think it will take too long, and I can treat you to dinner as a thank you."
"No," he replied. "You don't owe me anything, Rodeo."
"Thanks, Jake," you whispered as you threw one arm around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. "I know I can trust you to tell me what looks good. Because you're a guy, and you know what guys like. I've been in such a rut, and I don't even know what looks nice on me anymore. But I trust your opinion."
He wrapped his arm around your waist and held you a little closer. If you trusted him, he wouldn't let you down. He never wanted to let you down. He would take you to the mall and tell you which outfits looked nice on you, even though he knew it would be all of them, and he would be cool about you dating Tony. "Sure, Rodeo. Anything you want."
When the time came, he was miserable. You seemed excited, bouncing on your feet in your jeans and sneakers as you collected dresses and cute little outfits to try on, but he knew none of this was really for him. You'd just be giving him a little sneak peak of what Tony would have his hands all over. 
"How about this one?" you asked, holding up a red mini dress that made Jake's mouth dry up. Then you moved it in front of your body and looked down. "It's probably too much for me."
He wanted to tell you that you couldn't pull it off, but he knew the fucking thing was made for you. "Try it on and see," he said softly, so you added it to your pile. Then he followed you like a puppy dog to the fitting room, holding half of the dresses for you to try on. When you passed the lingerie section, Jake had to watch you grab a few lacy items. "Have you slept with Tinder Tommy yet?" he snapped when you picked up a black bra and added it to your arms. 
You looked up at him with a soft pout. "Well, no. That's why I'm trying to buy some sexy stuff, you know? Just in case I want to take it there."
Jake had seen you in your bathing suit many, many times. You didn't need to be wearing anything made out of lace and silk to look sexy, but the sight of you in half of this shit would probably give Tony a damn heart attack. Then he realized as you led him along that he himself might not make it out of the fitting room alive.
"Just stand out here, okay?" you said softly, guiding him against the wall. He grunted in response and watched you line up everything you wanted to try on inside the fitting room before closing yourself inside. You kicked your shoes off, and then he watched you push your jeans down to your feet through the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. You stepped out of them, and his imagination started to supply the rest. 
You were completely naked now, he was sure of that fact, and you were only a few feet away from him, separated by a flimsy door. His head tipped back against the wall as his breathing grew a little deeper. Your toenails were painted bright green, and you were talking quietly to yourself as you stepped into a black dress and started to guide it up your legs. 
"This isn't too bad," you muttered, and a few seconds later you were unlatching the door and pulling it open with an apprehensive look on your face. Jake's jaw dropped open as you stepped right up to him and asked, "What do you think?"
"Rodeo," he grunted, fisting his hands at his sides to keep them from touching you as you spun slowly in front of him. "Looks good."
You frowned a little more. "I was hoping for better than good," you replied, twirling away from him and back into the fitting room.
Jake's body was thrumming with desire as he watched that black fabric pool at your feet under the door. "It was better than good, Rodeo," he said, nearly choking on the words as you stepped to the side and bent to pick it up. 
"I'll try the red one," you informed him, and he had to press his lips together, knowing what was coming next. This time it took you a little longer, and he watched your feet under the door as you turned in front of the mirror. "It's really short," you finally said as you opened the door again. 
"Jesus Christ," Jake moaned softly. The thing fit you like a damn glove. Every curve and soft dip of your body was right there, begging to be touched. His palms were sweaty as he wiped them on his jeans, and then you spun, ending up just inches away from him again. 
He couldn't speak, and maybe you took that as a bad sign. "It's too much," you said with a little laugh. "I know it's too much, but it was fun to try it on anyway. It made me feel sexy," you said with a little shrug, barely able to meet his eyes. "I think the black one might be better for dinner at the Boathouse? Or do you think this one?"
Jake snapped out of his daze and remembered why he was here, suddenly pissed that this little fashion show wasn't just for his own benefit. "Come on, Rodeo. Tinder Tommy? Really? You think he deserves this?" When you just kind of shrugged at him, he said, "Get the red one if you're just looking to get laid."
"Okay," you replied, your little pout back on your pretty lips. 
He pushed away from the wall until he was nearly touching you. Practically snarling, he said, "Are you just looking to get laid?"
"Maybe," you said softly, looking at his neck. "He's actually into me, so maybe. I don't know, Jake. It's been a long time since a guy chose me, you know?" He opened his mouth to tell you that any guy in the world would choose you when you said, "I have one more dress."
Then he had to stand there and watch the red fabric hit your feet before you guided the tiniest little green dress up your calves. He was jealous. He was so jealous. And the fact that he'd had a whole fucking year to ask you out instead of fucking wasting his time was crashing down on him right now. You were going to wear one of these dresses to the Boathouse tomorrow, and Tony was going to take it off you. He was going to fuck you, and then someday you'd probably get married. Jake would be at your wedding sitting between Mickey and Bradley and making himself sick over this whole thing. 
The door opened. You were stunning. You didn't even leave the fitting room doorway this time in that green dress that was hugging your tits and your waist and showing off so much leg that Jake thought he was going to black out. "I can tell by your face that it's not good," you said with a wince. "It's a little too low cut, so I couldn't imagine wearing it in front of Tony."
His voice came out low and rough as he said, "You're wearing it in front of me just fine."
"But I don't count, remember?" You closed and locked the door, and Jake was immediately leaning against it. Literally each dress was hotter than the one before it, and Jake didn't know how to articulate what he was feeling right now. How on earth did he end up so far in the friend zone that he couldn't claw his way out if he tried? What the fuck made Tinder Tony so special? Why were you looking around on the app anyway? He couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened, but you were never going to take him seriously, even if he knew he could be what you wanted.
The rustling of fabric and the sound of the zipper had him resting his forehead on the door. "Rodeo, Baby, you can't...buy one of these dresses. Not for Tony. Okay? Come on. He's not good enough for you."
"Oh." That was all you said. You just replied with one word, and Jake's blood was boiling. He wanted to dismantle the entire fitting room and take you back home and tell you that you could do a hell of a lot better than some lame ass dentist who didn't like beer or playing pool. But you'd just muttered one word, and he was dying to know if he could ever stand a chance at making you happy. 
"Rodeo?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You unlocked the door and he stepped back a few inches so you could open it, expecting to see you in your jeans once again with the dress of your choosing in your hands. "Oh, fuck," he groaned, his heart hammering in his chest. "Absolutely not!"
Jake pushed you back further into the fitting room and managed to wrench his broad shoulders through the doorway before kicking the door closed. You were biting your lip, your eyes wide as his hands came to rest on your lace covered hips. 
"Jake," you whispered as he shook his head at the sight of you in a lacy black bra and tiny underwear. 
"What the hell are you thinking?" he groaned, fingers digging gently into your warm body as he listened to the little sound you made. "You're killing me here." Your hands came up to his wrists before you slid them up along his arms, and Jake took a step closer until his jeans were brushing against your bare belly. He would need to be removed from the mall in a body bag at this rate. 
Then you whispered, "I like you. And maybe there's a chance that you like me, too? And maybe that's part of the reason I asked you to come here with me."
Jake swallowed hard as he leaned in, dizzy from the way you smelled so sweet and felt so perfect in his hands. "Dump him. Dump Tony." You whimpered at his words as he slid one hand down further, teasing the lace covering your ass at the same time his other hand went up to tug at the side of the bra. "Because this? This should be for me."
"Jake." Your voice was a needy whine as you scraped your fingernails along his shoulders and chest, trying to pull him closer. But he shook his head as he pushed you back harder against the wall, lips hovering over yours as you whispered his name.
He knew what he wanted. He'd known for a while, really, but now he was ready to take it. "I want to kiss you. But if I do, I'm not going to be able to go back, okay?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I won't go back to being Rodeo and Hangman, just friends. I will not do that. Not with you. Not when you count more than anyone else."
Your lips crashed against his, and Jake sighed in relief as he held you in his arms the way he'd been dying to for so long. The lingerie and all the little dresses were only for him. Your kisses and your smile and your fingers in his hair were for him, not Tony. He ran his hands down to your ass as you giggled and nipped at his lips. 
"Pick a dress, Baby," he muttered between kisses. "And we'll get the lingerie, too."
"Okay," you replied with a smile before you took his bottom lip between yours, making him moan. 
"Tomorrow night, I will take you out, and you can show me this little getup again if you want to."
You looked up at him with the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. "I want to."
---------------------------
You nudged Bradley with your elbow. "Hey, she's cute," you said, nodding toward the brunette across the aisle. "You guys should go talk to her." He and Mickey both leaned forward to look without any subtlety whatsoever, and you laughed. 
"Maybe at the end of the inning," Bradley replied, manspreading so much in his seat at the Padres game that he kept bumping your leg and nudging your shoulder. But he was grinning, and you could already tell that he and Mickey were about to turn it into a competition to see who could get her phone number first. 
But there was one key player missing from their game now, and you smiled as you saw Jake apologetically climbing over everyone else in your row before plopping down into the seat next to you and kissing your cheek with a smile. "The line was long as hell for your favorite beer," he said as he handed it to you. "Did I miss anything?"
You shook your head as Bradley said, "You're just in time to watch the real show, Hangman. Rodeo, I want you to time how long it takes before I get her number." 
But you weren't really listening as Bradley and Mickey started to argue, and neither was Jake as he kissed your cheek again. You didn't feel like you were simply blending in, and you didn't feel like you were just one of the guys anymore. You were grinning and sipping your beer as Jake's lips met your ear and he asked, "Are you wearing that black set right now?"
"I'll let you find out later.
---------------------------
Happy birthday, Alli! I hope you enjoyed the blonde one! Big thanks to @mak-32 @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for all your help!
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honkytonk-hangman · 3 months
Text
All This Love
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
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Summary: “Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound. “Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.
Warnings: not much in this one, unplanned pregnancy, some light smut, 18+ only!! <3
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Jake feels his pulse jump once, then twice as he walks through his front door. He’d already known you were here, not just because of your car parked out front, but because you’d barely left his company since he’d gotten the news. Still, the sound of you moving around his kitchen, and the smell of something heavenly wafting toward him makes his heart leap just a little in a way that is honestly unfamiliar to him.
Jake Hangman Seresin is not a ‘relationship’ guy. He hasn’t exactly been a one-night-stand guy either these past few years, but certainly he isn’t known for his commitment. Partly he could blame this on his schedule, his various and frequent deployments, moves and busyness, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that taking an endless string of women home was taking a toll on him.
Quietly, Jake hoped he’d meet someone, have a constant in his life to come home to, maybe have a few little mini-Jake’s running around too, but it also wasn’t really something he was actively seeking out. He knew being with him meant a lot of lonely nights, and he’d internalised the attitude that most women were not up for that.
And then he met you.
You’d laughed sweetly like you’d thought he was just kidding when he’d flirted with you, told him outright you’d expecting him to cancel on your first date, and then rambled about anything and everything for the next three hours as he happily listened.
You weren’t really his normal ‘type’, you weren’t overly affectionate with him off the bat, making your intentions known, you weren’t tall or bleached blonde or anything he was used to from the women who showed an interest in him, though that wasn’t to say he didn’t think you weren’t beautiful. You were a little awkward, and dorky and you’d told him you thought he was funny, which wasn’t really one of the things most of the women he dated tended to point out. Needless to say, Jake had quickly found it very easy, very natural to adore you.
He’d gotten three and a half months with you before his orders came in. 
The two of you had grown close in that time, but you hadn’t really addressed or discussed what you were. He hadn’t really felt the need, or the pressure like he had in the past. He’d realised over the past few days that this might’ve been down to the fact that he hadn’t even really considered any other options besides the two of you eventually becoming ‘exclusive’. If Jake is completely honest, he’s been off the market since our first date.
Not until the imminent date of his deployment had he begun to take note of his rising anxiety, the complete opposite to the way he usually felt after informing a casual fling that he’d be going. With them, he didn’t expect more, he didn’t want to give them more either, but with you… Jake hasn’t been able to stop thinking about how much he’ll be able to contact you while he’s gone, if you’ll make time for him, even if you’ll send him those care packages so many of the guys he knows often received while on the carrier…
The idea that you saw his upcoming deployment as the official end of whatever this is you have going on haunted him, and Jake was determined to make clear that when he returned in fourteen months time, he still wanted to see you.
He toes off his boots as best he can with the large bouquet in the crook of his elbow, before padding down the hall toward where the delicious smell is coming from, finding you buzzing around his kitchen in a manner that forces him to stop dead in his tracks to appreciate the sight.
This is what Jake has been wanting, but it's not until this very moment he realises just how much. It isn’t even about you cooking for him, no, he just craves the domesticity of coming home to somebody who looks up from what they’re doing with an expression like his arrival is the new best part of their day.
“Jake! I didn’t hear you come in!” you say with a smile and a laugh. That wasn’t exactly unusual for you. You didn’t often hear many things, considering you were hard of hearing. You weren’t completely deaf, in quiet rooms when he was facing you, you could hear him enough, helped by lip reading, or if he spoke directly into your ear. However, it was still significant enough that Jake had downloaded an ASL learning app, partly to communicate better with you, but also so that he could see your overjoyed surprise whenever he correctly signed something very simple to you.
“These are for you,” he steps closer, holding out the large bouquet of marigolds and roses he’d stopped for on the way home, making sure his mouth isn’t at all obscured by them as he does. He hadn’t skimped when he’d bought them, requesting the biggest package the florist offered and paying double what he’d ever paid before for flowers. It was worth it though, especially when once you’ve processed what he’s said, your face lights up all over again and you let out a soft little gasp as you move to meet him.
“They’re beautiful!” you croon as you bring the flowers to your nose. Jake had only ever bought flowers for his mother, and for a few girls around Valentine’s Day. They were always roses. He’d never bothered to ask what their preferred flower of choice was. With you, though, you had inadvertently told him on your first date while lost in a story about a failed garden you’d tried growing and how you adored copper marigolds and peach roses, but that no man had ever bought either for you, including your last boyfriend who’d seemed to think flowers were lame and unnecessary. He’d filed that information away, but curses himself for not using it any sooner as you smile widely back up at him, and push the flowers aside so that you can wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him sweetly.
“Thank you! You didn’t have to!” you say in between pecks to his lips, and Jake wraps the arm still holding the bouquet around your back, in the hopes that maybe you’ll stay pushed up against him just a little longer. You do, giggling softly as you continue to deliver soft little kisses to his lips, Jake dutifully returning each one, becoming aware of his own laughter joining your own as he does.
You pull away to grin up at him, and Jake drops one last, final kiss to your lips before giving you a slight squeeze, his own smile growing as you stare up at him.
“Baby, the smoke alarm is going off,” he informs you, chortling when you jump away from him in surprise, and quickly return to the stove to remove the pan from the hob. Jake follows you, placing your flowers down on the counter, and moving over to where the alarm sits high on his wall, reaching up to tap the button in the centre that switches it off.
“Sorry! The good news though is that dinner isn’t ruined!” you tell him happily, turning back around to go digging through one of his other cupboards. You straighten again when you find a large pitcher, and he watches you mill about for a moment, filling it with water before moving to place the bouquet of flowers inside. He feels his chest swell with pride as you primp and preen the roses and marigolds, and pictures you two weeks from now, with more and more petals falling from the flowers with every passing day, but refusing to throw them away because they make you think of him. The swelling of pride begins to turn into a swell of dread, and Jake really, really wishes he wasn’t leaving you in the morning.
You turn back to him and smile.
“Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll finish this?” you suggest, and Jake immediately pouts.
“Why don’t I just stay here and help you plate up?” he says instead, making you frown playfully and shake your head.
“Jake, you need to shower!” you scold lightly.
“I showered on base,” he shrugs, and pushes away from his counter to capture your waist and draw you near again.
“Jake… just let me do this for you… you leave tomorrow…” it’s your turn to pout. Jake’s heart makes a good effort to leap out of his chest and into yours.
“Exactly. I leave tomorrow, so just let me stay with you as long as I can,” he poses, and you soften, resting your hands on his forearms.
“Jake…” you sigh, and bite your lip a little. “What’re you gonna do for the next fourteen months, huh?” you question playfully, shaking your head.
“Wish I was plating up dinner with you.” he answers immediately, then feels his cheeks heat up a little. Your gaze drops from his face, but you’re smiling softly, and rubbing your thumbs over his skin in a soothing manner.
“Okay,” you relent, before reaching up to cup his cheeks tenderly. “Okay.”
Jake leans into your touch, closing his eyes as he memorises the feeling of you holding him. You remain in pleasant quiet as the two of you go about preparing for dinner, Jake setting the table as you portion out the salad you’ve made.
Jake refrains from insisting you sit side by side as you eat, because he knows you’d struggle to hear him if you did, but after dinner, he does insist that the dishes can wait, convincing you to come up and shower with him instead.
You’ve barely stepped inside the glass cubicle when he’s pulling you closer, lips reaching out for yours and you giggle as you kiss him under the full stream of the shower head, laughing properly when he pulls back to spit a mouthful of water sideways out his mouth like a cartoon character. He grins at having made you laugh, but crowds you up against the wall almost instantly after, his smile pressed back against yours.
“M’gonna miss you.” he says right by your ear, before slipping his mouth down to your neck, and immediately sucking a small mark there. He knows your opinion on hickeys, so he’ll make sure the rest are somewhere you can hide them. You seem to squirm in his hold, your hands dropping from around his neck to press against his chest, his abdomen, though he knows you aren’t pushing him away, simply wishing to see his face.
“I’ll miss you, too.” you say after a moment, watching the water drop from his eyelashes, before you wrap your arms around him, pulling him near once again and pressing your chest up against his in a delightful manner.
“Promise you’ll come see me when I get shore leave?” He’s never asked this question before, and his heart immediately jumps into his throat. Usually he’d wait around for shore leave to go bar hopping, pick up a girl or two and show them a good time while he could. This time however, all Jake can think about is how best he can maximise all his spare moments for the next fourteen months to make sure they’re spent with you.
“I promise,” you say with another giggle, and it makes Jake pull back to look down at you. He’s not sure what he wants to say, if anything at all, but a beat passes where the two of you simply watch one another. Carefully your hand rises, skims along his cheek, but ultimately continues upwards where you smooth back some of the hair hanging down over his forehead.
“By my count we’ve got just under twelve hours,” you say then, and he can tell you’re trying not to sound so sad. It makes his stomach flop about.
“No time to waste, then, huh?” He leans in and murmurs against your lips.
Miraculously, you make it back to his bedroom somehow, shower water replaced with sweat now as you both work to make the most of the short time you have left together.
You let out a heavy breath of air as you adjust yourself once more, hands pressing against his taut abs, feeling the way the muscles move and tighten under your palms and fingers as you bounce in his lap. Your thighs are burning, but that's not going to be enough to stop you from chasing down another high. Jake’s hands at your hips take some of the initiative out of your control though, his grip firm and deliberate as he helps you move for him, forcing you up and damn-near slamming you back down again, his hips flexing in time to make sure he’s fucking you as deep as he can.
Your sounds of pleasure are muted against his lips, swallowed by him as he kisses you hungrily, one hand shooting up to clutch at the back of your neck when you briefly break apart. With one hand helping you move now, he begins tilting his hips more and more, his legs bent at the knee behind you, powering his thrusts and completely taking you apart. He lets you break away from his mouth, but doesn’t move the hand on your neck, and through half-shut eyes, you can see him watching you intently, his jaw clenched as he takes you in. He slows down.
“You look so pretty riding me,” Jake’s voice is deeper and more gravelly than normal, and his words are punctuated by tiny grunts of exertion that make you mewl. “Gonna miss the way you feel around me,” he goes on, using his hold on you to grind up into you with each slow thrust. You gasp when his hand on your thigh pulls a little, widening your legs around him and making you take him even more.
“Fuck! Jake…!” you cry out weakly, doing your best to keep your momentum, but with this new positioning, you barely have enough strength to lift yourself from him. Jake doesn't seem to mind, groaning in approval and suddenly sitting up, twisting your still connected hips to spin you beneath him now, his hand hiking your leg up over his shoulder as you go.
You gasp again, your own hands clutching his shoulders as he begins fucking you impossibly deep, picking up his pace again as he hovers above you, one hand now in the mattress beside your head.
“Take me so well, sweetheart,” he grunts out, closing the distance between you to press his lips back to yours. You chase him when he pulls away again, whining in disapproval, but his lips dont go too far, as he falls to his forearms and really begins to fuck you.
“Gotta give it to you so good you’ll be stuck on me, huh? Won’t think about anyone but me while I’m gone?” he goes on, and all you can do is nod.
“You gonna cum?” he asks a little more coherently, and you nod, because the way he’s driving into you nearly has you toppling over already. “Yeah? Go on, let me feel you, want you to cum around me, honey.”
His words alone are enough to push you off the edge, more so when you feel him join you, and you arch up into him, curl your hips against his own ragged thrusts, desperate to keep him from pulling out halfway through. He doesn’t seem to be planning to this time, and you mewl and moan in delight at the feeling of him filling you up, the feeling of him dripping out of you when he gives you a few last firm thrusts.
Jake pants above you, the hand by your head slipping down to caress your cheek as you both take a moment to come down. He kisses you, long and deep and nearly enough to get you going again. You wait patiently when he pads off to his bathroom to find you a cloth, and you barely notice yourself dozing off until you wake sometime later.
The bed is empty, though the bedside lamp has remained on, and you sit up properly, rubbing your eyes.
“Jake?” you call out, but you don't see him in the bedroom or bathroom. Frowning, you scoot out of his bed and grab one of his old squad shirts, slipping it on as you move out of his bedroom in search of him.
“Jake?” you call out again, trailing your hand along the wall as you step softly down the stairs to the first floor. It doesn’t help that you can’t hear him, but your worries are belayed the moment you turn around the corner and into the kitchen, and you’re greeted with his bare back as he stands at the sink. He’d pulled some sweatpants on, but they’re hanging low on his hips, enough for you to see the little dimples at the base of his back, and you itch you wrap your arms around him again.
You try to be as quiet as you can as you move up behind him, relishing in the small jump of surprise he does when you trail your hands over his skin and around his front, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades. You feel him chuckle, feel the deep reverberations through his chest as he does, before he’s pulling you by one arm around to his front instead, where your face now rests against his chest instead.
“I thought you’d fallen asleep.” he tells you, leaning down to absently press a kiss to your hair. You shrug, but peek over your shoulder to watch as he continues to wash dishes, moving with him when he has to move, loving the way he briefly wraps you up whenever he does so, as if he’s worried his twisting might scare you off.
“What are you doing?” you ask dumbly, even as he scrubs down the pan you’d used to cook dinner.
“I didn’t want you to have to wake up tomorrow and do the dishes.” He tells you quietly, like he was worried about admitting this to you, like it was something he should feel guilty about. You coo, and squeeze him a little tighter, just as another thought occurs to you. You’d meant to talk to him about it when he got home from work, but with all the messing around that had happened, you’d totally forgotten.
“Do you want me to drive you in tomorrow?” you ask, feeling the way he pauses. You look up at him after he stays quiet for another beat, and find him staring down at you oddly. Your eyes meeting seems to break him out of his reverie though, and he blinks rapidly a few times.
“You don’t mind? It’s an early start…” he tells you, trying to warn you off, but you see right through him. You can tell it means something to him, though you don’t know what, and a part of you wonders if he’d ever had a girlfriend drive him to base for a deployment before.
“I’m not going to see you for fourteen months, Jake, of course I don’t mind.” you say as if it's obvious. You watch him purse his lips, but smile softly.
“I’d like that.” he says at last, moving one arm to wrap around you permanently now, continuing his task one handed until you extract yourself from him to grab a drying cloth. He makes a sound you only feel briefly, but you shoot him an amused shake of your head and remind him that the faster the chore is done, the faster the two of you can go back to bed. He stops his complaining then, and when the sink is empty and the dishes all stacked away, he picks you up and carries you all the way upstairs again with your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping them there until you both fall asleep again.
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Jake can’t stop looking back over his shoulder at you as he stands with the rest of Dagger, getting ready to board. You’re right by the front of the crowd of family that has gathered to say goodbye, which doesn’t make it any easier. If you’d disappeared amongst the people, he could fool himself into thinking you weren’t there, but as it is, he can see you clearly, and it’s eating him up.
Even Rooster can tell, watching and following his gaze every time Jake longingly glances back at you, his brown eyes trailing to the beautiful girl in the front of the crowd, occasionally conversing with the people around her, but mostly just eying the group of aviators with a sad little smile.
“You should say goodbye.” Rooster tells him quietly, eyeing up the officers ahead of them and correctly guessing that they would be about to board. Jake swallows, and pushes his sunglasses up his nose.
“We’ve already said goodbye.” He doesn’t mean to sound so snappy or cold, but he really didn’t want to think about leaving you anymore than necessary. Beside him, Rooster shuffles and shrugs.
“Say goodbye again.”
Jake stays quiet for a moment, before he turns to look at his wingman, and then at the line ahead. Quickly shifting his bag and stuffing it into the other man’s hands, Rooster only nods at him before Jake’s body is moving, easily pushing past the junior officers who step out of his way quickly. He barely takes note of the saultes he receives, because his eyes are set only on you, the way you watch him with a frown, but even as he gets right up to you, and you open your mouth to speak, he keeps moving, cupping your jaw and pressing a series of kisses against your lips.
When he pulls back you frown is gone, replaced with a lightness he hasn't seen since before he’d told you he’d be leaving.
“Will you wait for me?” he asks breathlessly, aware now that the carrier had begun boarding, and he needed to get back.
“What?” you ask with a slight laugh. Jake only leans in to kiss you again, and from somewhere behind him, he can hear a few servicemen whistle. You’re still giggling when he pulls back, but he digs into his uniform pockets and brings out his keys, pressing them into your hands.
“Wait for me.” he says again, waiting until you nod your assent before looking away from you. Through the crowd, he can hear someone, Rooster calling him, an edge of warning in his voice.
“I’ve got to go.” he tells you dumbly, and kisses you again.
“I know. Go! I’ll be here when you get back!” you assure him with a laugh, kissing him back but pushing him away at the same time. Jake grins upon hearing the words, and steps in to kiss you again, before finally dragging his body forcefully away from yours, and back to his team.
Phoenix is giving him a funny look that he ignores as he takes his bag back from Rooster with a silent nod of thanks. He receives a pat on the shoulder from the other man, who looks down his sunglasses at him thoughtfully. Jake sees his eyes trail off and he knows Rooster is looking at you again. He pats Jake’s shoulder once more, his lips tipping up teasingly.
“She’s cute,” Rooster tells him. Jake eyes him as he replaces his sunglasses.
“Yeah,” he says. “She is.”
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“Hey babygirl, it’s good to see you,” Jake can’t help his wide grin even as he stares at your somewhat blank, reserved expression. Something in his chest wobbles as you eventually give him a weak smile, and he nervously adjusts his camera.
“Hi, Jake.” You say. It only makes his stomach wobble too.
“Is the software working okay? I have captions?” he asks, double checking the program on his end to make sure for the fourth time that everyone is tip top. You nod.
“Yeah, yeah, everything is working fine. I even put my hearing aids in… I’ve missed your voice,” you tell him.
Your words go a small way to alleviate his anxiety, but it’s been four months since he’s communicated with you via more than just email, and he can’t help but listen to the voices in his head from long before he met you, telling him that you don’t want to wait for him any longer.
“I’m honoured, you hate wearing those,” he says with a stiff laugh. You smile a little wider, but don’t seem to relax.
“Too much noise,” you agree. A quiet beat passes between you and Jake steels himself for what he knows is to come. You both speak at exactly the same time.
“Listen, baby, I’m really sorry I haven’t been able to do this sooner, but–”
“–I’m pregnant.”
Jake freezes, and so do you.
“Oh, thank god,” he hears himself say outloud, his entire body sagging as the weight of what he’d thought you were about to say leaves his body entirely.
“That’s… that’s not what I was expecting…” all stress seems to have left your body too, and for the first time since your call connected, you too appear to be completely at ease. “I thought you were going to break up with me…” you tell him, making Jake start.
“I thought you were going to break up with me!” Jake exclaims, before quickly quientening his voice. “Christ you scared me,” he tells you, letting out a sigh of relief.
Your face is a mixture of amusement and bashfulness.
“You’re more scared of me breaking up with you, than me being pregnant?” you ask, and Jake finds himself nodding immediately.
“I wouldn’t say scared, per se…”
“Your own words, Jake,” you remind him, and he chuckles, but shrugs. You both pause for a moment as you take in the wealth of new information and relationship security you now bask in. Jake jumps then, and leans in closer to his screen.
“How far along are you?” he asks, unsure of what really to ask in this situation, it’s honestly not one he’d ever been in before, but he’s proud to discover his mind immediately has calibrated for it.
“I’m going to the doctor in the morning, but I’m guessing around four months,” you tell him with a slightly wry smile. Jake laughs.
“I should hope so,” Jake chortles, before turning serious again when he sees you only laugh weakly.
“How are you feeling, baby?” he asks, then quickly, for your sake, adds; “For the record, I want whatever you want, I just want it with you.”
Your face travels through several emotions, but you at last give him a watery little smile.
“I really thought you’d break up with me, I haven’t even thought about anything else,” you admit, and Jake feels something else in his chest wobble.
“Honey, unless you’re planning on breaking my heart right now, I’m not breaking up with you any time soon… or ever, if I’m honest… I’m sorry that’s not been clearer…” he tells you, feeling a slight lump in his throat at the very thought.
You were it for him, he thinks, he can’t imagine not coming home to you. He’d even considered throwing his medical on purpose the other day, just so he could wait for your email he knew was likely to come. Jake has never even considered that before, not even for family. A knock on the door makes his face fall, and he turns to glare at the ensign who pokes their head in.
“Liuetenant Seresin, sir, Captain Mitchell requires you on deck.”
Jake sighs, but nods grimly.
“Tell him I’ll be there in a moment.”
“Sir!”
Jake looks back at you, already smiling sadly.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I need to go,” he says tiredly. He’d wished he got more time to talk with you, but especially about this.
“It’s okay Jake, we’ll be fine,” you tell him. Jake can’t stop the quirk of his lips as he stares at you.
“‘We’ huh?” he asks teasingly, feeling something like excitement, or perhaps pure, sheer joy race through his veins. You cock your head but your arm moves, he can’t see where exactly, but he suspects your hand now rests against your belly.
“Yeah. We.”
Jake swallows thickly, and nods, unable to fight the smile that pulls at his lips.
“Okay, baby, okay,” he hears another knocking on his door and huffs. “Send me everything you can, I don’t know when I’ll get to call you again, okay? Send me everything.”
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Jake walks quietly alongside Dagger as they return to their ready room, listening to them discussing possible ‘new’ hand signs for each other to signal readiness for the manuevour they’d been working on not even twenty minutes ago, prior to landing. He checks back into the conversation long enough to watch the proposed sign that Payback suggests, and immediately begins shaking his head.
“That’s ‘math’ in sign language,” Jake tells him, earning a look from Phoenix.
“Since when do you know ASL?” she asks, not fully sounding accusatory, but certainly not shying away from that tone either. Jake looks up at her and opens his mouth, but it’s Bob who gets there before him.
“He’s been practising with me,�� Bob informs her, making Phoenix only more curious. She turns back to Jake expectantly. Jake shifts on his feet as the group comes to a halt, clearly also wanting to know what this is about, and for a brief moment, he considers telling them to mind their damn business.
That thought passes though, his spite warmed into a quiet kind of glee at the mere thought of you, his chest tingling slightly under the picture he has tucked into his flight suit.
“My girlfriend is deaf,” he says at last with a small shrug. Phoenix stays eying him for a second, even more curiosity filling her gaze, but after a moment she relents. He knows she’ll have questions later, but for now seems to be content not to make him answer them in front of everyone.
“Huh.” she says, and with that the squad continues moving.
Eventually, Phoenix and Halo peel off to the women’s locker rooms, the boys moving on to theirs, Payback, Coyote, Fanboy and Bob making straight for the showers. Jake can’t shower yet, though, he has precious cargo to return to safety, so moves straight for his locker, peeling it and carefully removing the photograph from his breast. Using the wad of blu-tac he’d acquired a few weeks back, he gingerly sticks the image backup in its home when he’s not flying, making sure not to get any fingerprints on it as he does.
“That was a good exercise,” Rooster’s voice makes Jake almost jump out of his skin, and he turns to look over his shoulder, quickly shooting the other man a nod.
“Yeah,” he replies simply, his lips thinning into a line as Rooster steps closer, opening his own locker but inevitably glancing over at Jake’s in the process. Jake tenses up as he feels Bradshaw pause, but after only a few agonising seconds, Rooster is moving again.
“Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound.
“Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.
Jake reaches up and rapps the ultrasound fondly.
“Twenty-three weeks. She’s supposed to be the size of a peach, but hell if I know what I’m looking at,” Jake shrugs and rolls his eyes, even letting loose a small smile when Rooster leans over to get a closer look. After a moment he too pulls a face and they meet eyes.
“Yeah, looks like topography to me,” Rooster shrugs as well. Jake looks back to the scan thoughtfully.
“Oh. Yeah. There’s a mountain range…. Small valley…” Jake trails off as the showers seem to shut off in near-unisen. 
He quickly shoots Rooster a steely-eyed stare, which thankfully the other man seems to understand the meaning of, because all too soon their conversation comes to an end and Jake shuts his locker door protectively.
Their veil of secrecy is shattered however, when Javy, dressed in only his towel, waltzes right up to Jake, opens his locker door again, places a kiss to the ultrasound, then carries right on as Jake quickly closes it behind him. Rooster shoots him a look, and before the others can make an appearance, Jake explains himself.
“Only Javy knows,” he grinds out, but can’t find himself too annoyed. Javy had immediately taken to his Uncle role, sending little gift packages to Jake's house for you to discover.
The ‘My Uncle Is Single’ onesie was particularly cute.
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Jake doesn’t even really have to push his way to the front of the line at the docks. Not only had Dagger made a path for him, but they were actively hauling at the collars of younger sailors, and from behind him he can hear various calls of ‘make way!’ and when one sailor protests a little too loudly, Phoenix saying ‘Hangman’s about to meet his kid for the first time, do you really want to get in the way of that?’. He makes a note to thank them later, but then he sees you, and he sees his baby, and all thoughts fly out of his brain.
He rushes up to you, gathering you both in one tight hug before you even seem to realise it’s him. But then he hears you laughing waterly, and he pulls his face back enough to plant a long, passionate kiss to your lips.
“Hey baby, hi!” he gushes cupping your cheek in his hand, before quickly extracting himself only a little, and focusing his attention on the bundle of excited squeals in your arms.
“Hi Princess, c’mere, I’ve been waiting so long to meet you!” Jake continues to talk before you can even get a word in edgewise. You laugh again, and shift the baby on your hip enough and Jake steps in again quickly relieving you of the weight. His daughter is immediately enraptured by the pins and shinies on his uniform, and she babbles talkatively up at him. Jake had shared his worries with you that she wouldn’t know him, recognise him, but all that is quickly abated when she stuffs a fist in her mouth and all but collapses against his chest.
His whole body fills with a warmth like he’s never known and he looks over at you.
“I think it’s too loud for her,” you say with a laugh, cuddling in closer to the other side of his chest. Jake looks between the two of you lovingly, adjusting his girl so he can show off some of the ASL he’d managed to learn in the last fourteen months.
Sorry, he signs carefully. Just – little – longer. Team – want – meet – you – both.
Your face lights up in recognition and your eyes get a little mistier. So – good – now! You sign back slowly for him, just as he feels several presences come to an anxious stop behind him.
“Bob helped,” he says, getsuring over at Bob, who steps forward with a short little wave.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ma’am,” he tells you, before his eyes shift to the baby in Jake’s arms. He tips his hat again at the girl who, as Jake turns, seems to be quietly inspecting the newcomers, drooling all over her tiny little hand. Bob does another little wave, more goofy this time, and she giggles, but turns her face inward briefly to Jake’s chest even more.
Jake uses his free arm to pull you in a little, and nods at his team.
“Baby, this is Dagger, that’s Bob,” he briefly pauses to show you Bob’s sign name, before he goes on to point out the others. “Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy, Payback, and this is–” he gets cut off as Javy pushes his way to the front of the crowd.
“Uncle Javy!” he announces, balling you up in a tight hug. You laugh and nod.
“Thank you for all the gifts for her! She loves them!” you tell him, which only makes him smile wider, and puff his chest out some as he rounds on Jake and his daughter.
“Can I hold her now?” he asks, with his arms already out. Jake’s features drop into a friendly glare.
“No.” he says firmly, tugging the baby closer. He’s rewarded when she begins to fuss a little at all the new attention, and Jake quickly begins shushing and cooing at her, only for her to relax and fall quiet, her tiny fists now clutching desperately into his jacket.
“That’s right baby, daddy’s not gonna let Uncle Javy take you away from him.” He runs his hand comfortingly up and down her little back, snuggling her closer.
Javy rolls his eyes, but relents, pointing at Jake and you.
“Ya’ll got one week, then I’m crashing,” he tells you. Jake shakes his head, but you nod, looking up at him. You sign ‘babysitter?’ at him, then getsure at Dagger in general, and after he puts two and two together, he’s shaking his head.
“No. No way,” he says. You nod again and gesture back to the group.
“No,” he says.
“Yes.” you reply, Bob nodding quickly along with you. Jake rolls his eyes up at the sky, then back down at you. He looks over at where Rooster, Phoenix, Fanboy and Payback have all started cooing and making faces at his girl, making her giggle and kick her feet, and lets out a sigh.
“Fine. Maybe.”
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1K notes · View notes
tongue-like-a-razor · 4 months
Text
Brother's Best Friend - Part 11
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
A/N: Fair warning: I didn't have much time this week so this was a bit rushed and definitely not my best piece of work, but I really wanted to do at least *something* for the holidays!
Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.
CW: New Years Eve party, banter, fluff fluff fluff
WC: ~2300
Part 1 | Masterlist
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“So,” Bradley starts slowly, drawing out a suspenseful silence with a smirk as he butters his toast. “I met study group guy.”
You look up from your plate in alarm, your fork halfway to your mouth, and awkwardly meet your brother’s gaze.
Jake, who’s just set his food down to your left, picks his coffee back up, ready to make a quick exit.
“Uh, where?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but you’re so nervous that your voice wavers.
“Here,” Bradley replies with a grin as he makes his way to the table. “He came by to see how your exam went.”
“Oh?” You gulp anxiously.
“How considerate of him,” Jake notes moodily, setting his coffee back down and giving you a look.
“I agree.” Bradley sits down. “I think he wanted to compare study strategies,” he continues, then clears his throat. “Since the two of you didn’t end up studying together.”
Jake’s eyes go wide as he lets out a feigned gasp. “You didn’t?”
You give Jake an annoyed look and then glance back at your brother who is watching you with a pair of raised eyebrows. “Yeah,” you nod, “about that. Umm, the thing is…”
“You lied?” Jake brings a hand to his chest as though this revelation continues to shock him.
You glare at him irritably. “Partly.”
“Which part?” Bradley enquires, biting into his toast.
You sigh. “The part about study group guy.”
Bradley grimaces. “Why?”
“Yeah,” Jake chimes in, finally taking a seat. “Why?”
“Because I obviously made the wrong decision studying at home,” you retort, eyeing Jake bitterly. “And I just needed somebody to blame.”
Jake watches you cautiously, likely wondering if you indeed think you’ve made a mistake. Good.
“So, you bombed your midterm, big deal.” Bradley waves a hand. “We wouldn’t judge you. Guess that means he won’t be attending tonight’s party.”
You purse your lips. “Nope,” you confirm. “I’ll be all alone.”
Jake tries to catch your gaze as you rise from the table. “We’ll be here.”
“Aren’t you gonna bring your girl?” Bradley asks.
“Nah.” Jake waves a hand.
“Why not?”
Jake eyes you pointedly. “Not really sure where we stand, to be honest.”
You gasp theatrically. “Oh dear! Trouble in paradise?”
Jake throws you a flat look and grumbles, “Well, she’s sort of hard to read at times.”
“Because you’re illiterate?” you retort.
Bradley snorts while Jake scoffs in offence. “Dump her!” Bradley cries as you bring your dishes to the sink. “Life’s too short for mysteries.”
Jake sighs. “She does love to keep me guessing.”
Bradley shakes his head in disapproval after taking his last bite. “She’s playing games with you, man. It’s not worth it.” He gets up and follows you to the sink. “How ‘bout you? You need a date for tonight?”
“Huh?” you say in surprise, having been under the impression that your turn under the microscope was over.
“Remember that dude you met at the Hard Deck last summer? The one you said was ‘so hot’” – Bradley visibly shudders – “I just found out that he’s into you.”
“What dude?” Jake asks abruptly, his posture instantly going rigid.
“The one from 22,” Bradley clarifies. “The backseater. Forgot his name.”
“The douche from Michigan?” Jake makes a face and quickly rises from the table. “You think he’s hot?” he asks you incredulously.
Before you have a chance to respond, Bradley continues. “Apparently he ran into you last week at the café?”
You blink between Bradley and Jake as the latter approaches. While it’s true that you saw one of Bradley’s colleagues the previous week, you’ve since forgotten all about that encounter, because the very next day was when Jake had finally made his move. You start to back out of the kitchen but both Bradley and Jake follow you out. “I have some errands to run,” you say quickly.
“Nothing’s open,” Jake reminds you.
“Do you want me to invite him tonight or not?” Bradley asks, already scrolling through his contacts.
Jake elbows Bradley aggressively. “You’re seriously trying to get your sister laid?”
Bradley cringes. “Dude! Don’t go there!”
Jake stares at Bradley. “What do you think is gonna happen?”
You scoff at Jake incredulously. “Excuse me?”
Jake turns to look at you and places his hands on his hips with an impatient exhale. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I just don’t want her to be alone on New Years!” Bradley exclaims, still looking down at his phone.
“She’s not gonna be!” Jake cries desperately.
“I don’t want the date, Bradley,” you say, putting on your shoes despite having absolutely nowhere to go.
“Why not?” Bradley enquires.
“I just don’t. I’m fine with being alone.”
“You won’t be alone,” Jake repeats, the frustration in his voice noticeably mounting.
“I thought you liked him,” Bradley says, slightly deflated. Clearly, he assumed that he was doing you a favor.
“I don’t even know him,” you say. “I just thought he was good-looking, that’s all.”
Jake makes a face. “He’s not.”
You roll your eyes. “Appearance is subjective.”
Jake stubbornly shakes his head but makes no further comment.
“Okay, so why not give him a chance?” Bradley presses. “It’s not like you’re seeing someone. Right?”
You give Jake a quick glance before conducting a thorough examination of your own shoes. “Well, kind of.”
“Kind of?” Jake asks, slightly panicked.
You continue studying your feet. “I think.”
“Who is he? What’s he like?” Bradley asks.
“Uh,” you stall, “he’s alright.”
Jake lets out a muffled cry. “Alright?” he asks and you try not to wince at his utterly obvious outrage.
Meanwhile, Bradley raises an eyebrow. “Wow,” he says wryly. “Sounds promising.”
“What else?” Jake says quickly.
You look up at him in disbelief. “Occasionally aggravating.”
Bradley appears puzzled. “Why are you with this guy?”
Jake squares his shoulders. “He must be extremely handsome.”
Bradley looks back at you. “Is he?”
You roll your eyes. “He’s cute.”
“Cute?!” Jake exclaims.
Bradley laughs. “I really think you should give my guy a try.”
Jake crosses his arms over his chest and stands up taller. “I’m sure there’s more to this guy than just… his looks.” He’s blatantly searching your face now, as if Bradley isn’t even present.
You start to nervously fix your hair in the mirror at the front door. “I’m not interested in your guy, Bradley.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” You sigh resignedly while Jake watches your reflection. “I… I like my guy.”
Jake stares at your face in the mirror as if this is news to him. Then, his mouth slips momentarily into a smile before he sucks in his cheeks to hide it.
Bradley grimaces. “Why?”
“Because, he’s…” another reluctant sigh, “…he’s a good guy.”
“That’s kind of vague,” Jake comments, still trying to suppress a grin.
You shoot him a glare while Bradley chuckles. Then, he says, “Alright, fine. Maybe in a couple of weeks when you’re single again.”
Jake looks at Bradley sharply. “Why would she be single again?”
“Come on, when was the last time my sister liked a guy enough to stay with him long-term? She finds something wrong with everyone she dates.”
Jake shifts his weight uncomfortably. “Maybe this one will stick.”
“Doubt it.” Bradley shrugs.
“This one’s different, Bradley,” you say quietly, turning to face them again.
Jake looks back at you. “He is?”
“How so?” Bradley asks.
You pause, hesitant to reveal the truth. “He… makes me feel…”
Bradley watches you dubiously. “Pretty?”
Jake also takes a stab: “Aroused?”
You let out a weary sigh and lock eyes with Jake. “Safe.”
He stares at you with a stunned expression while Bradley nods approvingly.
“Happy,” you continue.
This time, Jake doesn’t hide his smile, but Bradley raises his eyebrows as though your response has surprised him.
“Strong,” you say.
“Wow,” Bradley mutters.
Jake lowers his gaze with a grin, but you decide to add, “And aroused, I mean –”
“Oh god!” Bradley exclaims.
Jake chuckles, glancing up at you again.
Bradley shakes his head. “I get it, you’re in love. But, Seresin – I just remembered: I’ve got the perfect girl for you!” He holds up his phone, beaming.
Bradley decides to invite the perfect girl just in case because he can see how much his dear friend has suffered at the hands of his mysterious lover. And the perfect girl just happens to be Jake Seresin’s exact type. You try to ignore her flirtatious behavior while Bradley all but pushes Jake in her direction. Your brother seems so keen to set Jake up, you start to wonder what his vested interest might be.
There are enough people in attendance that you can watch Jake without worrying about anyone noticing that you’re staring. So, you pour yourself a fourth martini and head back into the living room to see what your brother’s best friend is up to. You barely make it past the couch, however, when someone you’ve only met once in your life takes your hand and starts encouraging you to spin under his arm.
You glance over at Jake, whose date is also trying to get him to dance. Taking a sizeable gulp of your drink, you follow through with the spin and smile uncomfortably at your new dance partner. The room is bustling because the ball is about to drop and everyone has gathered for the countdown, so you’re forced to crane your neck every so often in order to check on Jake.
He notices your new friend right away, locking eyes with you despite his own supposed date trying to monopolize his attention. You wish you could steal a moment with him when the new year arrives, but Bradley would notice his friend’s absence in a heartbeat considering he’s been tailing Jake all night, making sure that he was having a good time.
When the champagne flutes start making their rounds and the crowd erupts in an enthusiastic countdown, however, Jake separates from his friends and starts making his way through the bodies toward you. He nods his head in the direction of the hall before he’s even come near you, inviting you to join him. But you glance back at Bradley and see that he is already searching for Jake in the crowd that’s suddenly doubled in size as everyone has made their way into the living room.
You shake your head at Jake regrettably. The last thing you need is for the year to start with Bradley walking in on the two of you making out.
Jake gestures more vigorously with his head, urging you to follow and, when you refuse, he moves closer and reaches out to grab your hand. You don’t resist when he pulls you in and, before you can check to see if Bradley has finally given up his search, the clock strikes midnight, and Jake takes your face in his hands and kisses you right there in the middle of the living room amidst the explosion of cheers that welcome the new year.
You hope there is enough commotion in your vicinity to obscure the way Jake’s hands slide sensually down to your neck and then take your shoulders as he steers you through the crowd out of the room, his lips avidly devouring yours the entire time. Somehow, the two of you make it out without even looking up and, once you’re more or less alone, Jake mutters, “Your brother is getting real fucking annoying.”
You chuckle as he plants kisses along your jawline. The two of you are still moving through the house, into the darkness of the entry hall. “He’s been extra involved today,” you agree.
“He’s been fucking annoying,” Jake repeats, sucking on the side of your neck as you come to a halt in the foyer and he wraps his arms around you.
“He’s your best friend,” you remind him.
Jake presses you gently against the front door and licks your earlobe, whispering, “Who the fuck were you dancing with?” You giggle and feel his lips spread into a smile against your skin. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” he asks, and you feel his tongue on your ear again. “You think it’s funny that I had to actively restrain myself from socking him?”
“What about you?” you say, still laughing. “You were with that girl all night!”
Jake whimpers into your neck and his hold on you tightens. “All I wanted was this.” You close your eyes when his mouth finds yours once more. “My new year’s resolution is that I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” he mutters between pecks to your lips.
You giggle again and then sigh, slightly pushing him away. “What are we going to do?”
“I just told you what I’m going to do,” he says, going in for another kiss.
You turn your head and he ends up kissing your cheek. “This is how we’re going to spend the new year? Sneaking around? Hiding in dark corners?”
Jake exhales slowly, resting his forehead on your temple. “I’m going to tell him,” he assures you.
“What are you going to tell him?” you ask, hoping that this question might lead Jake to reveal the nature of your relationship as he sees it.
He leans away from you and looks you in the eye. “That I make you feel aroused, of course.” Your jaw drops in outrage and you let out a yelp that quickly turns into a cackle. Jake is grinning widely, pleased with the effectiveness of his joke. Then, he draws you closer and his face changes shape. He squares his jaw and you see the evidence of a nervous gulp in the bob of his Adam’s apple. “I’m gonna tell him that you’re the girl I told him about,” he says, his tone low but steady. You gaze at him in silence, afraid to move a muscle lest he reconsider the sudden sincerity of his words. “The one I can’t stop talking about.” He swallows again. “The one I’ve been obsessing over.” He pauses to study your reaction as though he’s afraid he might be scaring you off. “The one that I – uh” – he takes a deep breath and then lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. He takes your hands in his and weaves his fingers through yours, tugging you forward until his lips connect with the tip of your nose. “Oh god, Baby B,” he says, leaning into you affectionately. “I should probably stop talking now.”
*That's all folks! Happy New Year!*
Read Part 12
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1K notes · View notes
bussyslayer333 · 1 year
Text
it’s all about you
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summary: 4 times Jake thought about marrying you and the 1 time he did.
pairing: jake seresin x girlfriend!reader
word count: 5.9k
warnings: allusions to smut throughout, mentions of alcohol, swearing, jake being whipped!! MDNI 18+
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1.
“Cookies or Brownies?” you hum, rifling through your kitchen cupboards.
“Cookies, we’re not monsters babe.” Jake replies seriously from where he’s stood behind you, checking out your ass.
You snap back up with a cheer and the brown sugar you were looking for in tow. Jake quickly diverts his gaze in favour of not getting caught and decides that your fridge magnets are suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.
His intense inspection of the little windmill stuck to your fridge has you snorting, quickly turned into a squeal when Jake pats your behind with a little more force than intended.
“Jake!”
“What?” He spins around as if to look for someone else who could have committed the offending action.
“You’re stupid.” You giggle, jutting your hip out to hit his own.
Jake reciprocates the action before finally picking up a wooden spoon and smacking it against his palm loudly.
“Where do you need me chef?”
“Fold the butter into the brown sugar,” you instruct, “softly.”
Jake rolls his eyes purposefully obnoxiously and sighs loudly, “I know.”
“Don’t make me remind you of cupcake gate.”
Jake’s attitude drops, “we agreed not to bring that up.”
“I play petty Seresin, now fold. Gently.” You sass.
Jake chuckles at your demeanour and gets to work, following your orders to complete the cookie dough.
Once complete and set to chill in the freezer, Jake goes to leave the kitchen but instead watches on in amusement as you pace around anxiously. After your third rearrangement of the trinkets on the window sill he interrupts.
“Babe, what are you doing?”
You sigh dramatically and throw yourself into his arms.
“I’m nervous.”
Jake snorts, “why?”
You pull back from where you face was smushed into his chest and pout, “don’t be mean. I’m scared they won’t like my cookies. Or me, for that matter.”
Jake’s thumb strokes absentmindedly over your cheek in an act of comfort.
“All kids like cookies. Fact.” He states, “and they’re gonna love you because they love me and I love you.”
“I don’t want to be their uncle Jake’s lame girlfriend who makes bad cookies.” You bite at your pushed out lip.
“You won’t be, now let’s bake these suckers.”
Jake pats your ass playfully as you bend down to retrieve the cookie dough.
“Put the oven on.” You order.
Jake mock salutes, “yes, chef.”
You run through about ten outfits before finally settling on what to wear, and as you brush through your hair once more, the doorbell goes.
You can hear Jake and his sister talking downstairs as well as the excited giggles of his nieces. When you finally descend the stairs Jake’s sister is smiling up at you.
“It’s great to see you again!” She gives you a one armed hug, the other holding the girls backpacks.
“You too!” You look down to where the girls are holding on to each of Jake’s hands, “and it’s great to meet you girls!”
The younger of the two immediately leaps forward and grabs onto your hand, “I’m Ellie, you’re pretty,” she singsongs.
You bend down and wipe at a smudge on her face, “Not as pretty as you!”
Ellie giggles determinedly and turns back to her mom to smile.
“Ellie, Olive, be good okay?” Jake’s sister nods her head to the two girls before looking back up to the two of you, “and thank you for looking after them on such short notice.”
Jake rolls his eyes, “you know it’s fine, now go have fun.”
“Thank you!” She smiles before kissing the girls on the heads and making her exit.
You look back down to the girls, Ellie is still clinging onto your hand with a smitten look on her face. Her golden curls are kept in two pigtails with small scrunchies. She’s adorable and can’t be older than 5.
When you avert your gaze to Olive, she seems to blush slightly. She is partially hidden by Jake’s large frame but you can still make out her blue eyes and long, mousy brown hair. She looks much older than Ellie, probably about 9 or 10. Much more reserved as well.
“It’s nice to meet you Olive!” You beam.
She nods in your direction, “hi.” It’s almost a whisper but you smile in acknowledgement anyways.
“Jakey I’m hungryyyyy,” Ellie drags out the “e” sound of her Y.
“Well that won’t do will it, Ellie bellie?” Jake teases, dropping Olive’s hand in favour of scooping Ellie up into his arms.
Olive chuckles awkwardly at the commotion and fiddles with the straps of her bag as Jake carries Ellie towards the kitchen where the cookies are almost finished. You can sense a small amount of anxiety radiating off of her, you were similar at that age. Never quite feeling in place. It suddenly becomes your duty to make sure she understands it’s okay.
“I love your hair, it’s so long!” You smile comfortingly at her, reaching out to fiddle with the ends.
She leans more into your touch and speaks quietly, “thank you, I- sometimes I think it’s kind of boring.” She shrugs.
“It’s really beautiful! I wish I could grow my hair that long,” you hum, inspecting the completely undamaged strands of hair.
Olive smiles up at you, “I just wish I could do more hairstyles with it.”
“I could braid it for you? If you would like that of course?”
“I would really like that,” Olive nods.
She lets you lead her upstairs where you sit her in front of your vanity with all your hair and makeup products. You watch fondly as she “oohs” and “ahhs” at the products on display.
“Tell me if I hurt you at all okay?” You question as you brush out her mostly untangled hair.
Olive nods in understanding, “can you do two french braids?”
“Of course!”
You sit in silence for a few moments as you brush and part her hair. You can feel her gaze on you from the mirror.
“You okay?” You hum.
“You’re really pretty, y’know? Way more than Uncle Jake.”
Her words make you giggle, “Your Uncle Jake is very handsome, why else would I be with him?” you tease.
She snorts, “I figured it wasn’t because he was clever.”
You try not to laugh too loud at her quip and bite your lip, “he has his moments.”
Olive rolls her eyes and mumbles “sure” and once calmed from your laughter you’re able to start on the first of the braids and talk to her more.
“How’s school?” You question absentmindedly.
“It’s okay,” she answers. Olive opens her mouth again as if to say something else, before closing it again.
“You can tell me,” you affirm.
“Promise you won’t tell Uncle Jake?” She asks.
“Pinky.”
She quickly intertwines her little finger with yours before beginning.
“There’s this boy,” she blushes as she sees a grin spread across your face, “he sits next to me when we do science, and he’s really cute.”
“What’s his name?” You ask, trying to keep your face neutral.
“Trey. But I don’t even think he knows my name.” She sighs.
“I’m sure he does, Olive, especially if he sits next to you.” You reassure her.
“I mean he only really talks to me to ask for help, but one time he told me he really liked my shoes.” She gushes.
“That’s a good sign Olive,” you confirm, “if a boy likes you he’ll make sure to compliment you, don’t settle for a boy who doesn’t make you feel special, promise me?”
Olive nods diligently, “promise.”
You make a little “aha” noise as you finish with the first braid and begin to move onto the second.
“Did Uncle Jake do that?” She ponders.
“Hmm?”
“Make you feel special?”
You nod your head as your fingers move nimbly through her hair, “he asked me out five times before I said yes.” you giggle in remembrance.
“Five?” Olive chuckles.
You’re not quite sure how to explain to Jake’s niece that you thought he was something of the manwhore before he finally professed his feelings for you.
“I wanted to know that he was committed,” you decide on.
“Uncle Jake really loves you. I heard him on the phone to my mom yesterday and-”
“Stop spilling all my secrets would ya?” Jake quickly interrupts, butting the door open with his foot.
Ellie is propped on his right side holding a plate of what you can assume are your cookies. She and Jake had long gone through the sheets of her My Little Pony colouring book and had decided to come find the two of you and share the cookies that were quickly depleting.
Olive giggles, “sorry Uncle Jake.”
“It’s okay kid,” he grins and plops Ellie down on your bed before coming to stand behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and pecks you on the lips quickly.
Olive and Ellie both pull faces and Jake laughs, “I thought that’s what you wanted to do to Trey, Ollie?”
Olive gasps, “how do you know? And no I do not!”
Jake taps the side of his nose teasingly. You roll your eyes and quickly finish off her braid, flipping them over her shoulders.
“Done.” You pat her head and hope her anger will diffuse.
“Thank you,” she smiles brightly at you, but returns to shooting daggers at Jake just shortly after.
“Cookies?” He offers up as a peace offering.
Olive still keeps up her impressive pout.
“I made them babe don’t worry,” you provide.
“Well in that case,” Olive reaches for a cookie and takes a hefty bite, her eyes widen considerably, “these are so good!”
“Thank you!” You smile, brushing at the crumbs that had accumulated on her cheeks.
“These are the best cookies ever!” Ellie proclaims from where she is now chowing down on another cookie.
“Hey! I thought we said no more?” Jake frowns in faux anger, plopping down on the bed next to Ellie.
“You said that, not me!” Ellie giggles.
“You got me there, bellie.” Jake sighs in defeat.
Ellie throws herself into Jake’s arms and gives her best puppy dog eyes.
“Can we watch a movie?” She pleads.
“You wanna watch a movie, kid?” Jake pokes Olive.
Olive looks to you and you smile, “Yeah,” she nods.
An hour later, you’re all squished onto the couch watching Frozen. Ellie is long past waking up and is spread out across the “L” part of the couch snoring quietly.
You’re tucked into Jake’s side and he’s fiddling with your hand, he hasn’t been watching the screen at all. Instead, watching your features and the way Olive will point out her favourite parts and songs to you. He particularly enjoys her version of “fixer upper” which he presumed might be dedicated to him. He enjoys even more so when by the time the film ends the way that Olive is dozing off on your shoulder and the way you’re stroking softly at her arm.
“They love you,” he coos into your ear.
“I’m glad,” you hum, “I really love them.”
“Olive is never like that with anyone, she’s usually so shy.” Jake explains, placing a kiss at your temple and then tucking your head under his chin.
“I was like that too when I was her age.” You murmur as to not wake the girls, “I hope she knows how special she is.”
“You’re gonna be such a good mom someday,” he whispers down at you.
“I hope so.”
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2.
Jake had been waiting for what felt like hours. It was five minutes really. But when you had told him to go wait in the car he had expected you to be out much sooner than you were. And when you finally sat down next to him, he wasn’t all too pleased.
“Let’s go.” You hum, pulling down the mirror to apply a final layer of lip gloss.
“Is that what you’re wearing?”
“Yeah, why?” You turn, a crease forming in your brow.
Jake winces, unsure of whether to continue, “your skirt, it’s really short.”
“I guess so.” You deadpan.
A beat passes.
“Are you going to cover up?”
Jake watches as your face drops.
“Why would I do that?” You reply snappily.
Jake sighs and begins to pull his car out of the driveway.
“Because I don’t want random guys hitting on you all night.”
“How is that my problem?” You retort, anger bubbling up.
“I just don’t want them getting wrong ideas about you, that’s all.” Jake tries to reason.
“And what would those ideas be, Jake?”
Jake can sense your rising anger. He doesn’t want to be in an argument with you by the time you reach the Hard Deck. That leaves him approximately four minutes to diffuse the situation he has caused.
“Just forget I said anything, it’s fine.” Jake dismisses.
“No, I want to know what you mean.” You assert, arms coming up to cross over your chest.
“Can we just drop it?” Jake sighs after a moment, “I don’t want to fight in front of everyone.”
“We wouldn’t have to fight if you weren’t being a dick!”
Jake rolls his eyes and doesn’t dignify you with a response, angering you even further. When he finally pulls into a spot outside of the Hard Deck you turn to him and flick at his shirt that can’t have more than two buttons done up.
“You gonna do that up sweetheart? Touch revealing don’t ya think?” You spit snarkily.
With that you slam the door to the car and make your way inside without looking back. Jake watches as you beeline for Natasha and rolls his eyes when she shoots him a dirty look. It was only more ammunition for her general distaste of him.
It goes like that for the rest of the night. You avoid Jake like the plague, sticking to Nat’s side mostly near the bar top. Although, you always stay within Jake’s line of sight which is heartening for him.
Bradley seems to find the ordeal hilarious.
“What did you do to piss her off this time?” He taunts.
Jake grunts. “I told her that her skirt was too short and that she needed to change.”
Bradley’s eyes widen, “bagman even I know you’re not supposed to say shit like that.”
“Yeah, well I know that now!” Jake spits.
“Hey don’t shoot the messenger,” Bradley rolls his eyes, “just go say sorry.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“She called me a dick.” Jake huffs.
“She’s not wrong,” Bradley offers.
Jake stays silent.
“You’re so petty.”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
Bradley and Jake stare at one another for a moment.
“Yeah, okay maybe,” Jake relents.
He sighs and averts his gaze back where you’re sat with Nat. You’re laughing so hard at something she’s said that you’re doubled over. You really did look beautiful, and Jake hadn’t even told you because he was too worried he was gonna get jealous and be a dick. Yet he still managed to do the last part.
“I hate when you’re right,” Jake admits, handing his beer over to Bradley.
Jake begins to make his way over to you, he’s going to apologise. However, he did not account for what was going to be quite the persistent obstacle.
“Hey,” a voice blurts from in front of him.
Jake catches sight of the owner of the voice, she’s tall and just a touch too blonde to be believable. She’s pretty, sure. But not you.
“Hey,” Jake replies absentmindedly, trying to make his way around her.
She steps in front of him again, blocking you from his view and tries to start up a new conversation.
“I’m Kendra, and you are?” She smiles in what Jake supposes was seduction.
Right now all he’s really trying to figure out is if your still at the bar or not.
“Jake.” He replies, hoping it will satiate her enough to move.
“Well Jake, it is great to meet you,” Kendra hums, sticking out her hand for Jake to shake.
Jake shakes it swiftly and goes to retract his hand, Kendra keeps it in her own grasp and plays with his fingers, keeping an awkward amount of eye contact with him.
“Look Kendra, I’m sure you’re a great girl but my-”
“I love your shirt!” She interrupts, “would probably love what’s underneath more.”
Jake cringes at her line and at the way her hand is now currently moving towards the excessive amount of chest exposed by his lowly buttons. Before she can reach skin, her hand is smacked away by red polished nails that Jake would recognise anywhere.
“Hey baby,” you whisper, before throwing your arms around Jake’s neck and smashing your lips into his.
Jake is all too quick to reciprocate, letting his hands fall to your ass only just covered by the tiny skirt that Jake has suddenly taken a distinct liking to. You pull back only to catch your breath, but instead catch sight of the seething blonde still stood uncomfortably close.
“We were talking!” She insists.
“He’s busy,” you cock your head to the side in faux apology, “sorry.”
She huffs and mumbles “crazy bitch” as she storms off, you pout to try and hold in your giggles. When you turn back to Jake, it proves useless trying to hold them in when you catch sight of his mouth smothered in your pink lipgloss.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Jake breathes out.
“I’m still mad at you,” you tease.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m a jealous dick, you just look so fucking good I didn’t want anyone else to see you.” Jake explains, hands caressing at the skin at the tops of your thighs.
You snort, “I think I’m the jealous one,”
“Good, I like a change of pace sometimes,” Jake pinches softly at your skin and lets a smile grace his feature at the way you squeak.
“Should we get out of here?” You whisper, hand trailing down Jake’s chest to where his hand is resting on you.
You guide his hand underneath your skirt slowly until Jake realises the lack of barrier between his hand and your cunt.
“Fuck, baby.” Jake hums practically into your mouth from how closely you two are stood.
You step away from him swiftly and bring his hand back into yours, pulling him towards the parking lot. Jake could cry from happiness.
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3.
“If this is stupid you can just tell me, okay?” You ask from where you’re stood in front of a blindfolded Jake.
It’s his birthday today and you told him you had a surprise. He figured it would be a party, which he was thankful for but he couldn’t understand the point of the blindfold.
“Okay you can take it off now.” You instruct.
Jake all but rips the blindfold off and looks down at you to take in your attire.
“Jesus, baby.”
“Do you like it?” You question, giving him a little spin.
Jake’s mouth is agape as he watches the way you twirl, clad in the tiniest daisy dukes he thinks he’s ever seen and what can only be his flannel. The cream of your cowboy boots are subtle and suit you well.
“Like it?” Jake steps forward and shoves his hands into the small back pockets of your shorts, “I fuckin’ love it.”
Behind you, Jake can see his Stetson placed on the table, and behind that he can see into the garden where all of his friends are already drinking and chatting.
“You set this up, baby?” He nods to the glass doors.
“I had some help,” you shrug, finally moving out of his grip to grab his hat.
Jake extends his hand out for you to pass it to him, but is pleasantly surprised when you place it on your own head. He opens his mouth to speak, but your catch him before he can with a wink,
“I know the rule, cowboy.” You tease, placing your hand on his chest. “Consider it a birthday gift.”
Jake holds back a groan as you drag him outside to where he’s greeted by a chorus of “happy birthday”s and various other jokes about him getting old. It sort of shocks Jake at the amount of people there to celebrate, and he has to hold in a chuckle as he sees a number of your friends already beelining for the group of pilots nursing beers on the decking.
Bradley is quick to find Jake as the party gets into full swing, people chatting and music playing throughout the yard.
“You’re one lucky son of a bitch,” Bradley chuckles slapping Jake on the shoulder.
Jake has been staring at you for the last 10 minutes as you twirl around with Phoenix to the varied 2000s songs that have been on loop for most of the evening.
“Don’t I know it,” Jake boasts, clinking his beer bottle against Bradley’s.
You can feel a gaze on your back as you grind onto Phoenix whilst Nelly Furtado plays, not to your shock it’s Jake, head cocked to the side with a lazy smirk on his face whilst practically ignoring everything Bradley is saying to him. You can only giggle as Phoenix makes a teasing remark about him being whipped. She wasn’t wrong.
You make you way towards the boys slowly, smiling as you catch the end of their conversation.
“Whatcha talking about?” You goad, as Jake pulls you back against his chest already.
“You.” Bradley answers truthfully.
“All bad I suppose?” You bait.
“Oh the worst,” Jake fills in, pinching at the meat of your thigh playfully.
Deciding not to prod further, you turn in Jake’s grip to face him and plant a sloppy kiss on his face. It makes Jake laugh and Bradley mock gag, rolling his eyes and making his way towards Phoenix. Jake captures your lips with his a few more times, hands wandering dangerously low towards your ass before you pull away with a wink, and also slight fear of traumatising your guests.
“Patience is a virtue,” you remind Jake, he simply groans in response.
The rest of the night goes as such, Jake gets cornered into conversations, his eyes wander to you, you tease him some way or the other, Jake is left half hard whilst talking to an admiral. It’s uncomfortably delicious and Jake cannot wait for his last birthday gift.
At 1:30 AM, the only stragglers left are the dagger squad, drunkenly swaying around Jake’s backyard and singing horrific variations of “Slow Ride” to annoy him. It doesn’t even work, because Jake knows he has something so sweet waiting for him. However, his patience is wearing thin and considering these are the people closest to him, he has no qualms with speaking his mind.
“Alright, y’all time to get going,” he announces, herding everyone out.
Bob had been kind enough to offer to drive everyone home, and Jake was keen to take him up on it, helping Bob strap in their drunk friends with alarming efficiency.
“Hey! What’s the rush birthday boy?” Javy slurs as Jake buckles his seatbelt.
“He wants birthday sex!” Nat whisper shouts into Javy’s ear, with emphasis on the shout.
The truck erupts in whoops and crude hollers towards Jake and only Bob can offer him an apologetic smile.
“Good luck,” Jake pats Bob on the back.
“You too.” Bob replies with a laugh, eyes glancing quickly to where you’re stood on the porch, hip popped out against one of the wooden beams.
Jake all but sprints back to you, hauling you up into his arms, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. You move to place his stetson on his own head, but Jake stops you.
“Nuh-uh sweetheart, you ride the cowboy, you gotta wear the hat.” He smirks, kicking the front door shut behind him.
“Seems fair.” You hum after a moment.
And when Jake walks into the changing rooms on Monday morning, taking off his shirt to reveal hideous claw marks down his back. No one bats an eye.
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4.
Jake had experienced what one could only describe as a clusterfuck of a day.
To start off the day, his alarm hadn’t gone off, meaning he had to sprint to his car and run a red light on the way to work. What was worse than the impending ticket that he was going to receive was the fact that he hadn’t even been able to kiss you goodbye like he does every morning.
It set him up badly. Jake Seresin was never one for superstitions but you were clearly his lucky charm. Proved so even further by the way his concentration was lacking in the flight simulations he was running. Then when they were up in the air, Jake was missing every opportunity to shoot down Maverick, messing up every manoeuvre and just generally souring his already damp mood.
To top it all off, the pièce de résistance, when Jake finally made it back to the changing rooms, itching to change out of his sweaty flight suit. His bag was sat open, clothes sopping wet whilst two of the newbies stood guiltily next to a broken shower head.
He almost blew his lid. Almost. But then he pictured getting back to you, falling into your arms after this tragic day and finally being able to relax. So for once, Jake decided to keep his mouth shut. He picked up his sopping bag and silently stalked out of the room.
When Jake reached his truck and listened to the way his bag squelched as he set it down, he held in another groan of frustration. The sun was still beating down and his sweaty flight suit was clinging to him in all the wrong places. Deep breath in, clench the steering wheel too hard, deep breath out. It was a 15 minute drive. He could do that for God’s sake.
Jake’s 15 minute drive quickly became a 45 minute one when he found out the road he was supposed to be taking was closed due to a burst pipe. The sky was a dusky purple as he finally pulled up outside your house. Jake can see that the light is on in the kitchen as well as your figure moving around languidly.
Jake slams the car door probably too loudly and rushes to the door. When he opens it, Jake is greeted with the loud sounds of your 90s playlist blasting throughout the house, he can hear you voice - although somewhat out of tune - belting along as well.
It makes him smile, for the first time on that horrid day. Jake’s bag of damp clothes are forgotten by the door as he quickly shucks himself of his boots and makes his way towards the kitchen. He opens the door to the sight of you wiggling your hips to Santana whilst holding a spatula and pushing around some type of stir fry.
You continue your movements, but turn at the sound of someone entering, a large smile gracing your face once you realise who it is.
“Hey, handsome,” you preen, dancing your way towards him.
Jake can’t help but chuckle at you movements, but he quickly falls limp once your wrap your arms around his neck. His large arms wrap around your waist tightly, engulfing you in him. You take note of Jake’s subdued demeanour, and raise one of your hands to scratch at the hair at his neck just like you know he loves.
“You okay, babe?” you hum, swaying him slightly.
“Shit day,” he groans out, leaning further into your touch.
“You wanna talk about it?” You continue your ministrations.
“Later.” He huffs, “Just wanna be with you.”
Jake’s sweet words make you melt into him further, burying your face into his chest. The arms of his flight suit were tied around his waist, only his tight black undershirt covering the expanse of his chest. He smelt like a combination of jet fuel, sweat and his cologne that he’d hurriedly sprayed in the morning. It should probably be off putting but it was so undeniably Jake that it was addictive. You inhale again as you place a chaste kiss against his pec.
“Are you sniffing me?” Jake chuckles.
“You smell so good,” you can only groan out, smushing your face into him again.
Jake leans back and takes your face in his hands,
“I’ve not even showered, I stink,” he chuckles incredulously.
“You still smell so good,” you whine, lips forming a pout.
“That means we’re meant to be or something, my pheromones get you going huh?” Jake teases.
“Never say pheromones again,” you roll your eyes and wiggle out of his grip to lower the heat under the pan you were searing the food in.
Jake follows you diligently, arms wrapping around your waist so he can cling to you as you move about the kitchen. Once bored of your movements, Jake swiftly lifts you up to sit at the counter top.
“Jake!” You swat at his chest, “we need to plate up the food,” you remind him.
“It can wait,” he decides, leaning in to connect his lips to yours.
It’s what he’d been waiting for all day. The pillow of your lips on his, the way you melt into his touch. One strong hand caressing the side of your face and the other gripping at your hip. You rest one hand on his chest, the other at the back of his neck, guiding his face to yours over and over again. Jake feels like a teenager again, making out with his girlfriend on the kitchen counter top. Except his 16 year old self would probably lose his mind trying to figure out how he ended up with someone like you.
Once you’d let Jake’s tongue explore your mouth in a kiss that had lasted far too long, you finally pull back to catch your breath.
“You want food?” you question with a smile.
“Please,” Jake hums as you hop off the counter. He smacks at your ass you walk away from him, “I’m starving.”
You roll your eyes fondly, and get to plating up the food. Jake isn’t too keen on letting you out of his grip, so you sit in his lap as you eat, feeding him and yourself at the same time. It’s nice, his strong grip is comforting and Jake appreciates how eager you are to listen to his rant about his shitty day.
“I was missing you all day, baby,” Jake murmurs, kissing at the side of your neck.
“I always miss you, Jake,” you smile earnestly, “now go shower and I’ll wash the plates.”
Jake allows you out of his grip so you can stand and move back around the kitchen, he shadows you once again, moving in tandem with his hands never leaving you.
“I thought you were going to shower?” You question, placing the last dish in the dishwasher.
“I don’t wanna leave you,” he whines.
You sigh, holding in your smirk as you turn to face him. “You wanna shower together?”
Jake has never looked so giddy as he practically races up the stairs, shirt flying off as he climbs the steps.
“You’re insatiable!” You yell after him.
“Only for you!” He yells in return.
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+1
“I’ve thought a lot about what I could say right now,” Jake clears his throat.
He’s not nervous. In fact he doesn’t think anything has ever been so clear in his mind.
“I think usually when people do these things they tell memories or defining moments about their relationship, but the truth is. Every goddamn moment since I met you, I knew this was the only possible outcome.”
Jake looks down to where your sat with your shared friends and family, you look like a dream really. He’d been antsy about not seeing your dress, but now he was glad he’d waited.
“Y’know she turned me down five times before finally agreeing to go out with me?” Jake chuckles into the mic he’s holding.
Laughter rings out through the guests but Jake’s gaze never wavers from you. You’re rolling your eyes at him with a smile on your face, letting out a giggle as Jake’s mom squeezes your hand.
“I don’t blame her, I was kind of a mess. I’d just been stationed back here on North Island, and Javy was my only friend because I was a dick.”
The dagger squad, raise their glasses in a cheers to Jake’s statement, cracking the room up again.
“I never thought Rooster would be sat at my table at my wedding, I’ll admit that.” Jake laughs out.
Bradley in return whoops and raises a hand in salute to Jake.
“He’s single by the way ladies,” Jake winks to your elderly grandmother.
“Anyways, as I was saying, total dick, with a lacking moral compass and even more so in my emotions. I was kind of betting on getting the mission done and going back to wherever the hell I was stationed and moving on. Then I ended up pissing off the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen by pouring a drink down her shirt, and she chewed me out worse than any admiral I’d ever crossed.”
“It was expensive!” You quickly yell out in defence.
“As you can see, I’m still making up for it,” Jake teases, “but from that moment onwards I realised I needed to get my act together. My pea brain was shocked that a woman would cuss me out like that, and I immediately fell in love with her. Which probably makes me sound crazy but seriously, being around you for five minutes makes you want to be a better person, and being around you for this long has made me a better man.”
Jake’s smile can only widen when your glossy eyes meet his, “Rooster once told me I was a lucky son of a bitch to have you, and as annoyingly as always. He was right. I don’t know how or why you agreed to be my girlfriend, and it’s a godsent miracle that I get to call you my wife. You’re the best person in every room - sorry everyone - and the most beautiful person always. I love you, which you already know, but I just wanted to say it again,” Jake exhales.
Jake raises his glass in a final toast, “to my beautiful wife, the new Mrs Seresin.”
Glasses clink around the room and Jake almost misses you beelining for him throughout all the commotion. Your arms wrap swiftly around his neck, pulling his lips against yours. You kiss him softly, before pulling back to whisper to him,
“You know I love you so fucking much right?”
“Of course I do, baby,” Jake hums.
“You’re the best man I know,” you smile, leaning in to his lips again.
Jake dips you as you kiss, feeding off of the theatrics as people holler. People are standing and moving towards the dance floor as he brings you back up, forehead pressed against your own.
“Do you know how hot it is that you’re my wife?” He smirks.
“Mrs Seresin does have a nice ring to it,” you decide.
“The best, actually,” Jake replies, as he’s dragged towards the dance floor by Javy.
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a/n: jake is so husband coded it’s not even funny,,, like THAT IS MY MAN!!!!
@roosterforme ages ago we were talking and you asked me to tag you when i posted my jake fic, sorry it’s been eons hehe i hope you enjoy!!
pls comment, reblog, or send me an ask and tell me what you think!!
thank you for reading :))
- honey <333
5K notes · View notes
justfandomwritings · 2 years
Text
Who Did This To You? (Hangman)
Pairing: Hangman x Female!Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 10.2k because I have no self control
Summary: In your most vulnerable hour, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin is the one to find you, and the one to ask you the ultimate question. "Who did this to you?"
Warnings: Mentions of Abuse and DV (NOT committed by Jake), nongraphic description of resulting injuries, a very one-sided bar fight, mention that a character is going to therapy, insults and confrontation by a past abuser. (This story is a who did this to you trope. While it is only dealing with the 'who did this to you' aftermath of what was done, please keep that in mind.)
Notes: This is just an excuse to write the who did this to you trope. This is self indulgence at its finest.
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“Who did this to you?”
Your head shot up a little too quickly at the unexpected company, and the world began to spin all over again. With a groan, you laid your head back on the bartop, hoping the flat wood would help the world right itself faster.
You’d been lying there with your forehead pressed on the cool wood of the bar, sitting directly under an air vent, for the better part of thirty minutes. The Hard Deck’s AC was working overtime to keep the heat outside, and the rush of cold air blowing down the back of your shirt was doing wonders for your sore arms and back. 
“Hurricane, who did this to you?”
You hadn’t been expecting anyone to be there. Everyone else was down at the beach. You thought you’d have some time alone to lick your wounds and cover your bruises and emotionally recover from what had happened that morning. Penny was too busy watching Maverick. The aviators were too engrossed in a new game Maverick had invented called dogfight volleyball, and the bar was technically closed at this hour. You thought you could slip by and start your shift sight unseen. 
“Hurricane,” The voice was firm, but not demanding. Underwritten with a tone of concern that was very uncommon to that particular voice. “Hurricane,” it repeated. 
You opened your eyes and rolled your head to lay facing the voice’s direction and made eye contact with Hangman. 
You knew it was him before you turned, but for some reason you still did. 
Backlit by the sun’s rays bouncing off his perfect golden hair with an open button-up billowing in the sea breeze, he stood in sharp contrast to your current state. Like an angel stepping out of heaven and into hell. 
In some ways, this was your worst case scenario. Hangman was definitely not your favorite pilot and was very close to your least, and he was certainly not your friend. You were at best frenemies and even that was a stretch. The pair of you had been constantly bickering and making snide comments behind the other’s backs since practically the moment you made eye contact with each other. He intentionally made your life difficult behind the bar, and you rang the bell on him on multiple occasions. 
He was responsible for everyone calling you Hurricane. You’d come crashing through the doors on your first day working at the Hard Deck with a torrential downpour following you in from outside. A drowned cat would’ve looked less soaked through and pathetic than you, and the moment Penny introduced you to the squad, he’d made a snide remark about the Hurricane you brought with you. The rest was history. It became like a callsign to them; your name long forgotten by most. The only pilot who didn’t call you Hurricane now was Bob, and it ground your gears just a little bit more every time you heard it. 
On the other hand, this might’ve been the best case scenario. Hangman wasn’t someone who was going to make a big show of this. He wouldn’t rush down to the beach and ask for help. He wouldn’t fawn over you or ask you if you were okay a million times. He wouldn’t expect you to cry on his shoulder and incessantly pick at you until you broke down. 
“Who did this to you?” Hangman took a step in from where he’d frozen in the door out to the patio.
His expression was like his voice, hard and firm with undertones of the worry that anyone would be feeling in this situation. Hangman wasn’t the nicest guy you knew, but you knew from the other pilots stories of the many times he’d saved their lives that he wasn’t evil, and you didn’t doubt for a moment that he’d at least be somewhat concerned even if he didn’t care particularly for you. 
“You already know who.”
It was true. Devin had been in the bar about once a week for the last six months that you’d been dating. He’d made the rounds through the aviators, none of whom particularly liked him but all of whom had been polite enough not to say anything… except Hangman. 
The second Devin left after his first introductions, Hangman had made his distaste known. ‘Something’s off about that guy,’ he’d said before the door even closed. Phoenix had teased him about being jealous that his snarky banter was no longer the center of your world, but you’d seen it for what it was. A combination of being angry he wasn’t the center of attention and looking to defy you at every turn that was a uniquely Hangman blend. 
Hangman approached you slowly, taking one deliberate step at a time. Every step with such obvious forethought that it gave you the time and the option to back away. A detail you wouldn’t have expected from such an ego-centric man. 
You didn’t back away. Hangman was a lot of things, most of them negative, but you could say with absolute certainty that you weren’t afraid of him. For all the times you’d yelled at him, you’d never been scared of his physicality, and for all the times he'd yelled at you, his hand had never so much as twitched. 
Standing beside you, under the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights that threw your skin into sharp relief, Hangman had a full view of the damage. 
“That fucker,” his voice was a harsh, raspy whisper, “I’m gonna kill him.” His hand seemed to lift of its own accord. Flat, open palmed and always within your line of sight, he reached up and stroked his fingers along your cheekbone with a feather-light touch. 
“I already dumped him.” You don’t know why you felt like explaining yourself to Hangman of all people, but maybe it was the determination in his eyes. The way he stared down at your cheek like his eyes could will the twing of pain away. 
Hangman gave a half-hearted, inattentive nod. “That’s certainly a start.” He looked like gears were turning in his head, like he hadn’t given up on his first idea. 
A flood of memories came back to you. 
‘The only active duty pilot with a confirmed air-to-air kill.’ Coyote, introducing Hangman.
‘We call him Bagman, cause he’ll kill anyone and get anyone killed. He doesn’t seem to mind.’ Omaha commenting on Hangman’s aim at the dartboard. 
‘That’s his second air-to-air kill.’ Bob, telling you what he could about the mission they’d just come back from. 
‘Hangman’s deadly in the sky. I wouldn’t wanna cross him.’ Rooster, finally being honest about what he thought of Hangman, after the blonde saved his life. 
Hangman had killed before, and in his line of work, with his level of skill, likely would again. He definitely didn’t mean what he said, certainly not literally. He wasn’t about to rush out to his truck and go hunting Devin in the streets, but it wasn’t something he of all people would say entirely jokingly either. 
You slowly sat up in your chair. The world was spinning less now. Whether that was because the nausea was finally passing or because Hangman’s hand stayed on your cheek, grounding you in the moment, it was unclear. “I appreciate your concern,” you hedged, “but really, I’m fine. I can handle myself.”
Hangman snorted and let his hand fall away. “Obviously you can; you already kicked his ass to the curb on your own. Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna kill him for good measure.” Hangman hopped up on the bar and swung his legs over. 
You probably should’ve objected to his comfort level invading your workspace. Penny was very explicit that no one was allowed behind the bar who didn’t work there and even more explicit that that applied to all naval aviators. Somehow, though, you doubted Hangman would rat you out, at least not today. 
“Are you going to tell Penny?” Hangman mozied around behind the bar, picking up a rag and tossing it over his shoulder. He was looking for something, but he didn’t seem inclined to ask. You weren’t any more inclined to offer. 
It would’ve broken whatever moment was passing between you. Caring? Camaraderie? You weren’t sure, but there was certainly some level of understanding that remained largely unspoken. 
Hangman found what he was looking for in short order anyway. He flipped open the ice cooler and pulled the rag off his shoulder, filling it with a scoop of ice and tying the ends. 
“Not now,” you were disinclined to bring it up to Penny. 
The Hard Deck was a Navy bar, and Penny had made a lot of powerful friends. Hell, you had a lot of powerful friends if you were willing to use them; one of them, or at least a powerful person who was willing to help you, was standing right in front of you. You could only imagine what would happen to Devin if you told anyone. All of it would be deserved of course, but you doubted most of it would be legal. And that really wasn’t what you needed right now, and you weren’t ready to have that conversation anyway. 
“Hold this to your cheek. You wanna get the swelling down,” In a reversal of roles, he leaned against the bar in the place that was normally yours and offered you his makeshift ice pack. 
You took it with a quiet, “Thank you.”
Hangman nodded with a thoughtful expression, watching your hand raise it to your cheek, “I’ll let you tell them in your own time, but you’re going to go to someone to help you through this until then… professionally.” 
It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t leaving room for debate. It was an order as plain as any he got in the Navy. 
You nodded wordlessly against the ice pressed to your face. It was a reasonable expectation, a reasonable request. You weren’t sure if you needed it or not, but you supposed that was the point. You weren’t sure. Better to go too soon than too late. 
“Good,” Hangman sighed, seeming relieved, and pushed off the bar. His muscles flexed with the motion, bulging against the short sleeves of his open button-up shirt. They remained tense as he crossed his arms over his chest. His teeth gritted behind his closed lips. “I’ll keep him out of the bar.”
“Hangman, you really don’t have to-” 
“He hurt you.” Hangman cut you off with a dismissive wave of his hand. He looked serious, deadly serious. “That’s all I need to know. He’s not welcome here anymore.”
Before you had the chance to respond, not that you were entirely sure how you would, Hangman’s eyes left yours, staring at something over your shoulder out towards the beach.
“Do you have any makeup for that cheek?”
Your head turned, and you saw the outlines of Penny and Mav, arm in arm, making their way back to the bar. “Yeah,” you replied, “But my shoulder is a different story. I need to go find…”
Hangman jerked his button up off his shoulders and balled it up, tossing it across the bar to you. “Go quick. Put this on.”
“Hangman, I-”
“Go.” Hangman urged, and you ran off before Penny could see the two of you.
—------------------------------------------------
Your phone kept buzzing in your pocket, but you didn’t have time to check it.
You thought you knew what it was. Phoenix demanding to know why one of Jake Seresin’s shirts was wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman’s weren’t as distinctive as Bradley’s, usually solid colors with a barely-there logo on the pocket. None of the guys had noticed you were wearing it, but you knew Phoenix had the moment she came back in from the beach. She’d shot you a disappointed, skeptical look and immediately begun whispering to Bob as they walked away with their drinks. 
Penny hadn’t been much better. She hadn’t identified which pilots’ shirt it was like Phoenix clearly had, but she was two steps away from asking when the evening rush began to pour in without any sign of slowing down. 
The Hard Deck was slam-packed, and none of the bartenders had a second to spare. The newest class of TopGun recruits were graduating within a week, and it seemed that everyone had turned out for the upcoming occasion.
The bar was crowded with faces new and old. All of the graduating pilots were scattered around, and most of their instructors had made their way in at some point. Some of the pilots had families, wives and girlfriends, who had flown in and accompanied them to the bar that night. There were more than a few old friends in town to visit or siblings using the graduation as an excuse to get away. 
Even most of Mav’s squadron was there. Penny’s old flame had claimed a spot by one of the dart boards, and his lieutenants were all taking turns trying to dethrone Hangman as the king of darts. Normally, they would have migrated to the pool tables by now, but the bar was too crowded for even TopGun’s finest to leverage their way into skipping the line to have a game. 
One of the soon-to-be graduates hunkered down at the bar, some asshole who was billing himself as the new and improved Hangman, kept snapping his fingers at you to try to get your attention from behind the bar. You were dangerously close to ringing the bell on him the next time he did it, and Penny’s fingers were clearly itching to do the same. Tragically, neither of you thought that was a very good idea. Tonight might’ve been the one night where it was simply too busy to ring the bell.
There were so many people you couldn’t see past the sea of bodies pressing in around you, and it was a miracle that you didn’t bolt from the claustrophobia.
Marg after marg. Old fashioned after old fashioned. Beer after beer. The line never seemed to stop, and it was taking its toll on you. Tonight was simply not your night.
“Go,” Penny’s hand touched your shoulder and made you jump, spilling some of the tequila shot you were trying to hand off. “I’ll clean that. You look like you need a break. Take five.”
Normally on a busy night, you would’ve protested, insisted you could hold down the fort and done your best to help Penny push through the rush, but not that night.
Your shoulders slumped in relief, and you ducked under the gap in the bar without much of a second thought, pushing your way through the people towards the door to the kitchen. There was a ‘broken’ stool by the door to the kitchen that was in fact not broken at all but had a sign taped to it that said it was specifically so it was open for when workers were on break. The seat provided some much needed relief for your aching feet and even more aching shoulders.
Shaking cocktails was really aggravating the bruises just beneath the button up wrapped around your shoulders, and you found yourself hurting almost twice as much as normal this shift. That might’ve been why you felt like you were moving in slow motion the whole time. That or the sheer number of people had simply made the task seem insurmountable.
You were just closing your eyes and leaning back against the wall when your phone in your pocket buzzed again.
It wasn’t really a conscious decision to check it, more habit than anything else. And really, you hadn’t expected it to be anything that bad. You hadn’t heard from him all day. 
But there it was. His name. His name a half a dozen times over the course of your shift. Each text progressively more urgent and pressing than the last.
‘I’m  still coming to pick you up from work.’
Bile rose up in your throat, and you suppressed the overwhelming urge to bolt. The room was suddenly too hot and too crowded, and there were too many faces. Faces you recognized and faces you didn’t. A wash of faces that was the perfect place for him to hide, to wait, to lurk around for the opportune moment to reveal himself.
You couldn’t do this, couldn’t deal with this. Not here. Not now. Not in front of all these people. Not alone. 
You did the first thing that came to mind. 
It was stupid really. You couldn’t explain why it occurred to you, why you acted on it so immediately, why you thought it was a good idea at all. It probably wasn’t; it could just as easily have backfired in your face as anything else. But your gut told you it was what you should do. Really, your gut didn’t so much tell you as wrench you in that direction with an undeniable force. 
“Hey can I talk to you for a sec?” 
Hangman was an easy man to find, even despite the crowd, strutting around the dart boards like he owned the place, which he very nearly did, rubbing the other pilots noses in his shots that were somehow better blindfolded than theirs were with sight.
You interrupted him boasting loudly to Fanboy and Payback about how he didn’t even need to practice. Perfect marksmanship just came naturally to him. The rest of the pilots were all gathered at the high tops near the darts boards, mostly rolling their eyes. They were having some kind of tournament, or rather a competition to see if anyone could take Hangman down. 
Payback seemed almost too happy for the interruption, but Fanboy was a bit more perceptive, at least at the moment. Fanboy’s eyes darted away to Phoenix’s table, and you saw the jerk of his head when he caught her eye. Funneling the female aviator’s attention in the direction of what was unfolding. 
You, wearing Hangman’s shirt since he disappeared for half an hour earlier that day, asking to talk to him alone near the end of your shift. You knew exactly what it looked like. 
“Sure.” Hangman’s tone was completely casual, not giving anything away, but when his back turned on his companions, his eyes were burning. You quickly looked away from his gaze and led him from the group.
“I wasn’t checking my phone.” The words were tumbling out of your mouth the moment he was out of the others’ earshot. You didn’t even bite your tongue long enough to turn around. “He’s been texting me my entire shift. He was supposed to be my ride home tonight, and I think he might show up soon.”
When you faced Hangman, you knew the panic in your voice and in your eyes was painfully obvious. Now that you were semi-alone with him, with someone who knew, there was no hiding how much it jarred you. Your hands fumbled with your phone trying to show him the flood of texts you’d gotten, unnoticed, over the last two hours. 
Hangman didn’t look down even as you turned the phone to show him. His jaw was already clenched; his expression was agitated, visibly angry. His eyes weren’t looking at you or the phone. They were searching the faces in the crowd similar to the way yours had only moments before though far more thorough. The honed, trained eye of a military fighter pilot meticulously picked through the crowd for its target, finding nothing. 
“Could you…” You hesitated to ask. It was such a ridiculous request. Just yesterday, Hangman would’ve been your absolute last choice to be in this position with; you would’ve risked handling it alone before asking for his help. But here he was. The only one who knew. The first one you asked. “I’ll give you a round on the house for it. I just… Would you mind giving me a ride home? I don’t want to stumble on him alone.”
Hangman didn’t hesitate or pull his eyes from where they continuously scanned the crowd, as if his gaze alone was enough to keep a threat at bay. “No beers required, Hurricane.” The words seemed to be coming out of his mouth even as you offered. Like he’d already decided what he was going to do the minute you told him the problem. “Wait here a sec? I’ll handle it.”
Hangman walked the short distance over to the bar, glancing back over his shoulder at you every few steps like he was making sure you hadn’t disappeared, and flagged down Penny. Something on his face must’ve told her it was urgent because she forwent several regulars and big tippers demanding drinks to beeline towards him. He leaned over the bar and whispered something in her ear, gesturing back in your direction. 
Penny looked concerned, and she nodded along with what Hangman was saying until he turned to leave. 
“If Penny asks,” Hangman put a hand on your shoulder, a firm grip holding you to his side as he led you through the throng of people towards the exit, “a guy was bothering you, and I drove you home cause you were scared of him.”
“Not entirely a lie,” You mumbled, shifting closer into Hangman’s side.
No one tried to stop you. No hands reached out for you. No one called out your name. You made it through entirely unscathed. You could feel eyes on you, but they didn’t raise the hairs on the back of your neck. You doubted, highly, that they were Devin’s. More likely, Hangman’s squadron were watching him retreat from the bar with you under his arm without so much as a goodbye. More likely, they were plotting and planning the questions they were going to hound the two of you with the next time they saw you. More likely, Phoenix was pointing out to everyone that you were wearing Hangman’s shirt.
—------
“Does he have a key?” Hangman didn’t break the silence until he’d turned onto your block, until he’d brought his truck to a slow crawl, looking for your tiny, inconsequential cookie cutter house in a row of tiny, inconsequential cookie cutter houses. 
Yours was pretty much the only house without a Navy flag or Navy paraphernalia of some description sitting in the yard or stuck to a car in the driveway. The neighborhood was not far from the Hard Deck which was not far from the base, and the tiny houses geared towards first-time-buyers were crawling with Navy pilots and newlywed military couples who wanted to live offbase.
You were on the second sidestreet, the third house on the left. Hangman already knew the way without instruction. Penny had conned every Top Gun pilot with a car into driving you home at least a couple times. And while Hangman was usually the pilot she was least willing to ask, he was also the only one who was guaranteed to always be sober. 
His question came out very sober. His usual lilting, teasing tone had dropped off somewhere today and never fully returned. 
“He did. He… he told me he lost it, but…” You both knew better than to believe that.
Hangman pulled into your driveway and flicked the truck into park and turned it off. “Tomorrow I’ll drive you to the hardware store, and we’ll change the locks.”
“You don’t have to…”
“Do you feel safe with him having a key?” Hangman cut you off. He was looking down at you with just a touch of condescension, so classically Hangman. Like he knew the answer already, like he knew you knew the answer already, and that you were silly if you pretended not to or refused him. 
You knew where this was going, and you thought about lying, just to relieve Hangman of whatever false sense of duty or obligation he had imposed on himself by being the one to find you at the Hard Deck. But it was way too late. Hangman wasn’t stupid, but he was incredibly, irritatingly stubborn. And he’d already set his mind to helping you through this. “No.”
“Then tomorrow morning I’ll change the locks.” Hangman threw his door open and hopped out of the truck. It slammed closed behind him as he circled around to your side. You made to open your door, but Hangman beat you to it. “Alarm services are expensive,” He continued, offering you a hand, “but they make door jammers that have sound alarms on them at least, and my sister bought some cheap window versions a while back that I could help install.” 
You took Hangman’s hand and dumbly followed him up to your door as he rambled on about extra door locks and doorbell cameras. All options that you could pick up tomorrow for him to put in. 
“That’s too much effort,” You halfheartedly protested as you spun your keys around trying to find the one to your front door. 
There really weren’t that many keys. There were a couple to the Hard Deck, one to the shed where Penny kept beach supplies, and one to Devin’s place that you hadn’t returned. They were all distinct shapes and colors, but you couldn’t seem to focus long enough to find the plain silver key to your own door. Maybe because you knew there was another one, exactly like it, somewhere across town at that moment.   
“Not if it makes you feel safe.” Hangman leaned back against your door frame, his eyes skimming up and down your block as if he was still on alert in the crowded bar, still looking for signs of trouble, signs of him. 
“Would you…” Your words trailed off as you watched his darting eyes. The question came bubbling up before you could stop it, before you even really thought of it. It was less a question and more a response to his vigilance, to the thought that his vigilance might be warranted and necessary. 
“Would I…?” Hangman didn’t let it go. His eyes turned to look at you.
You chewed at your bottom lip, debating if it was worth asking, debating if it was necessary. 
He probably thought it was, if his mannerisms were any indication, if his talk about alarms was any indication, if walking you to your door and watching your back were any indication. 
“Would you come in?”
Hangman raised a doubtful eyebrow, sure you didn’t mean what those words usually meant.
“Not like that, it’s just… You’re right. He probably still has a key, and if we can’t fix it till the morning…”
Understanding seemed to wash over his face, and Hangman kicked himself up off the door jam. “If it’ll help,” he immediately conceded. “I’ll sleep on your couch.”
“It…” You hesitated, but only for a moment. “I think it would.”
The silence inside your home was almost palpable. It was late enough that going to bed wouldn’t have been awkward for either of you, but neither of you were tired. And neither of you seemed up to faking being tired just to get away. 
Hangman sat on one end of the couch, and you sat on the other. At some point, you mustered the effort to turn on the tv. The local news was a quiet, bland drone of background noise cutting through the still air around the two of you.
You felt like you should say something. Maybe ‘should’ wasn’t the right word; maybe you wanted to say something. But either way you didn’t know where to begin.
You had only ever been alone with Hangman when he was dropping you off as a favor to Penny, times that were filled with snarky jokes and constant nagging from both of you, and earlier that day in the bar. You weren’t close. You weren’t friends. You were barely acquaintances. He was only here because he was in the right (or wrong, depending how you looked at it) place at the right time.
“Thank you,” That seemed like a good place to start. “For today, thank you.”
“You have nothing to thank me for.” Hangman countered quickly. His eyes stayed on the tv, though they were clearly out of focus staring at the screen. 
“I do though. You could’ve told everyone.”
“You weren’t ready for that.” He added it under his breath, countering without cutting you off.
“You could’ve left me to finish out my shift.”
“Not with him coming to the bar.”
“You could’ve left after you dropped me off.”
“He has a key.”
“You could’ve turned and walked out the door when you first saw me at the bar.”
Hangman let out a heavy sigh, not of annoyance or exasperation but a sigh weighed down with duty and concern. “No, I couldn’t.” 
Your eyes met his over the center of the couch, and a breath rushed out of your lungs under the intensity in his gaze.
—-------------------------------------
You woke up in your bed, mouth open, with more than a little drool pooling on your pillow. 
You had no memory of falling asleep there, of getting into bed, of going to your room at all. 
You remember being on the couch, talking to Hangman. You remembered the way his eyes, intense, open, and honest, compelled you to speak. The way you couldn’t bite back the story pouring from your lips. The story of Devin asking you out, of falling for him in those early weeks, of how he changed after you committed to him. The story of what he did that night, of his buddies who sat back and did nothing, of the jokes you heard the three of them cracking as you ran from the room.
You remembered Hangman crossing the space between you and putting a hand on your arm, how cautious he was touching you, how much time he left you to pull away, how gentle his touch was against your skin. You remembered throwing yourself into his lap, sobbing into his shoulder as he held you against his chest and rubbed soothingly up and down your back, whispering promises that that asshole would never hurt you again. 
You didn’t remember anything after that. You must’ve fallen asleep in his lap.
Sitting up, you found the answer to your unasked question.
A folded piece of notebook paper sitting on the pillow next to you:
‘Thought the bed would be preferable to sharing the couch with me. If I’m wrong and you wake up in the middle of the night and don’t want to be alone, you can always wake me up. If not, I’ll have coffee ready for you in the morning. - Jake.’
As you read, his words the night before echoed in your head to the beat of a nonexistent drum as you read the note once, then twice, then a third time.
‘No, I couldn’t.’
You carefully folded the paper up and tucked it in the top drawer of your bedside table. 
True to his word, Hangman was wide awake, standing in your kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee when you walked out of your room. 
“H-Hi,” you stuttered.
Last night, in the comfort of darkness, with exhaustion clouding over your mind and his arms holding you close, it had seemed the most logical thing in the world to open up to Hangman. And with the light of day glinting through the windows, with him dressed in the button up he’d wrapped around you the day before, with him lounging back against your counter as he sipped from your favorite mug, with an overconfident air that was too comfortable for any normal person’s first time in your home… It was odd to think that feeling hadn’t changed, that you still felt able to bare your soul to him, that you didn’t feel a need to run back into your room and get changed or freshen up, that you were perfectly comfortable being seen by him like this, a tired quaking  mess with puffy red eyes.
Part of you expected to walk out into your kitchen to an epiphany that you’d made a horrible mistake, that Hangman was exactly as much of a cocky asshole as you thought he was two days ago. But the epiphany never came.
“Morning,” Hangman took a sip of coffee and set the mug aside. He looked casual, at peace, like this was just another day, like he’d done this a million times. “I’m ready to go whenever you are. I found the toolbox in the bottom of your coat closet. Hope you don’t mind. We’ll probably need a few things if we’re gonna do anything more than replace the locks.”
“Y-Yeah,” You grabbed a mug off the drying rack and crossed the room to pour yourself a cup of coffee from the pot beside him, your shoulder brushing passed his as you poured. “Sounds good.”
“Hey.” Hangman seemed to immediately pick up that something was plaguing your mind. He didn’t reach out for you like last night, quite the opposite. He took a step away and turned to face you, crossin his arms over his chest, “If you want to be alone, I’ll head out. I’ll go to the store, pick up the locks, and change them myself. You can have time to yourself if you need it.” 
“No,” You immediately countered his obvious misinterpretation of your mood. “I-I don’t think I want to be alone. I’m just… antsy I guess.” 
He didn’t seem to fully buy it, but he let your excuse hang. “Okay then, we’ll head out when you’re ready.”
—----------------------
All day, as Hangman worked around your house first changing the locks then installing alarms then fixing a window that wouldn’t lock and then righting a wobbly chair leg that had absolutely nothing to do with your safety, neither of you mentioned the note he left or you crying in his arms or falling asleep on his lap or his quiet ‘No, I couldn’t’.
—--------------------------
You made a vow to yourself when Hangman finally left your house late Saturday afternoon. You were never going to ring up his card at the Hard Deck again. It couldn’t really repay what he’d done for you, the feeling of safety he’d brought to you in what was probably your most vulnerable moment so far on this earth, but you knew he wouldn’t want anything more showy. Hangman loved being the center of attention, but somehow you knew he wouldn’t want attention for this. 
True to your vow, the next Saturday evening, Hangman was on his third beer and had, unwittingly on his part, not paid a dime.
The Hard Deck was far less crowded that night. The graduating Top Gun candidates had all flown away, and only those currently stationed at the base, mostly Maverick’s squad, and some locals remained. A few dozen patrons milled around a room far larger than they needed with maybe a dozen pressed up to the bar. Most of the dozen fell under your responsibilities at the moment. Penny had, unintentionally, abandoned you not long before when Maverick had wandered in and taken up his usual stool. 
Omaha and Halo, the first aviators to arrive, had claimed one of the pool tables early in the night, and the rest of the squad had started rotating through matchups. It appeared Fritz was on a hot streak, one that was no doubt about to end as his next opponent in line was Hangman. 
All seemed right with the world. The constant buzz of voices, the crooning of the Goo Goo Dolls song that Bob had selected on the jukebox, the ready flow of beer to your usual patrons. Everything was fine.
Until the door opened one last time. Not that places of business ever ‘expected’ anyone because they hardly sent out invitations to come buy beer, but you really weren’t expecting anyone else that night. All the regulars were already inside.
The door banging against the wall as it was flung open was enough to draw your surprised eyes up to the entryway. 
Face lit by the sun setting over the beach through the windows on the opposite wall, he was unmistakable as he marched into view flanked by his two buddies. They immediately began scanning the room. 
Your breath rushed out of your lungs, exhaling in a gust that you couldn’t hold back any more than the wind. 
No, no, no. He wasn’t here. He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t confront you here. He couldn’t corner you alone.
There was no time to think, no time to check with Penny if it was ok to leave your station, no time to get to the door or bolt out the back. 
‘I’ll keep him out of the bar.’
It was your first instinct when you saw the text the weekend before, and it was your first instinct when you saw him that night.
“Hurricane?” Penny called after you as, without so much as a word in her direction, you ducked under the gap in the bar and made a beeline for the pool tables. 
You barely heard her, and if you did, it didn’t register. 
“Jake,” his real name leaving your lips was enough to draw most of his coworkers’ attention, all those in earshot at least. You grabbed his arm the second he was within reach, inadvertently clawing his skin with your nails as you pulled him up from where he was hunched over the pool table lining up a shot. 
Jake laughed and shrugged off your arm before he even turned around and saw who it was. “Hey,” he rubbed at the red marks in his skin, “I was just…” 
The words died on his lips when he turned and saw the panic in your eyes. It was brimming up inside you, overflowing and choking you off from every other sensation except the desperation for Jake to understand.
He knew better than anyone that there was only one thing that could make you look like that, feel like that. His head jerked up immediately in the direction of the door, as if he could sense the direction of the impending doom.
You watched the lighthearted smirk that constantly plagued his lips fall away. You watched the light in his eyes cloud over in darkness. As his gaze went up over your shoulder to the door, where one of the three men with angry expressions and dark eyes spotted your back amongst the khaki uniforms and began moving. 
Jake’s arm twisted in your grip and grabbed you by the elbow, jerking you unceremoniously behind his back. There was no time for pleasantries, no time to be nice about whatever he was about to do.
“Fanboy, stay with her.” Jake ordered over his shoulder to the nearest aviator. His gaze didn’t waiver from the three men approaching, even as he issued commands.  
Most of the aviators in Mav’s squad were scattered around the room. Mav was at the bar talking with Penny and Halo. Fanboy and Coyote had been watching Hangman school Fritz, who was being hyped up by Payback. Rooster was at a table not far from the pool game talking to a pretty girl. And Phoenix and Bob were half spectating from their perch by the jukebox discussing something that had gone wrong in a training run that afternoon. 
Fanboy caught you and held you up as Jake pushed you in his direction. “What’s going on?”
Jake didn’t answer. He side-stepped in front of you, half blocking you from view, and walked to the edge of the pool area. There was a buffer zone between himself and you. He was the first line of defense, and he was giving the second, Fanboy, room to react. 
“You fucking bitch!” If Fanboy didn’t know what was going on before, he instantly caught on. 
Fanboy’s arms tensed around yours. His back went rigged, as if a commanding officer had just called him to attention, and he curled away, pulling you back behind him and putting his body in front of you as a shield. Even with Fanboy hovering in the way, his body didn’t hide Devin’s eyes. They sought you out around Jake’s frame and over Fanboy’s shoulder; they found you huddled up behind the Navy uniforms and the fancy stars pinned to the pilots chests. No number of medals pinned to Jake’s chest could stop the chill that ran down your spine in response to the venom in Devin’s tone. You wanted to look away, but the daggers in his gaze skewered you in place, held you hostage. 
You wanted to curl up and hide, preferably behind Jake... Well, preferably in a home far away from there wrapped in heavy blankets with many deadbolts between you and Devin with Jake vigilantly standing guard at the door. 
Devin tried to walk straight past Jake, like he didn’t even see him. Jake wasn’t having any of it. 
A thick, muscular arm stuck out across the length of Devin’s shoulders as he tried to pass, holding him back.
Devin wasn’t a very big guy. He was well toned, but he was no naval aviator. He was no Jake Seresin. Jake had about an inch on Devin, but his well built frame made up for their near identical height. Devin had never been one to hit the gym hard while Jake certainly was, and it showed. It showed in the way a single arm without so much as a brace didn’t move even as Devin walked straight into it. 
If the rest of the bar weren’t looking when Devin shouted that you were a bitch, they certainly were when he glared up at Jake. “Out of the way you fucker!” 
Jake getting out of the way was about the last thing you wanted to happen, and Jake seemed disinclined to oblige either. His arm didn’t move from where it blocked Devin’s path, even as Devin glowered up at him.
The staring match lasted only a moment before Devin, impatient as always, gave up and turned back to glaring at you. He shouted, unnecessarily loudly, across the minimal distance between the two of you, “You changed the locks on me?” 
There was shuffling behind you and the sound of something clanging onto the pool table. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to turn your head away from Devin, couldn’t look away, couldn’t let him out of your sight. But there was the sound of footsteps as first Coyote, then Fritz, then Payback came into range in your peripheral vision. 
None of them knew what this was about, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where this was going. And any idiot could tell whose side they would be on in a fight between Jake and Devin. 
“She didn’t. I did.” Jake declared at a similarly loud volume, pulling Devin’s attention back on him, demanding Devin shift his focus off of you. “You got a problem with that, you take it up with me.”
Devin took a step back, finally abandoning his futile attempt to confront you in favor of squaring up to Jake. 
As Devin stepped back, the trio of pilots stepped forward. Fritz approached first, joining Fanboy in front of you. Payback followed after Fritz, lingering halfway between him and Jake, a bystander ready to step in if things got out of hand.
Coyote, however, had no questions about how any altercation would go down. His hand came down as he walked up behind Jake, slapping down reassuringly on Jake's shoulder to let him know he wasn’t alone. Coyote flanked Jake at such a close distance that it made it impossibly clear that, if this turned into a fight, it would not be three on one. 
It wouldn’t even be three on two for that matter. Devin’s buddies, who had crossed the bar with him had hung back a few feet, giving Devin the space he wanted to scream at you or confront you or whatever else he had been planning before Jake intercepted. The duo found themselves with two bar tables between them and Devin. One of which was, ever so unfortunately for them, occupied by none other than Bradley Bradshaw and his drinking companion. 
Devin’s friends would be forgiven for not realizing that they were offering up the chance to divide the group in half. Bradley, per usual, wasn’t in his Navy uniform, and a guy in a faded Hawaiian shirt didn’t exactly look intimidating. At least not while he was sitting down chatting up a pretty girl.
Seeing the escalation Coyote invited, and flashing his eyes to where you cowered behind his squadmates, Rooster got to his feet with a slow, lithe push off the table in front of him and turned his back on Devin. Not even bothering to give the belligerent asshole, currently one on two against Hangman and Coyote, the time of day, he turned his entire attention to the backup Devin brought with him. 
Never in your life had you been scared of any of the naval aviators, but there was something especially intimidating about the incredibly casual way Bradley put himself alone in a fight against two men. His relaxed stance, completely unbothered by the numbers game he was playing. His head, cocking to one side to crack his neck, and then the other. 
“You the latest pilot she’s spreading her legs for?” Devin snarled up at Jake, completely oblivious to what was going on behind him and unconcerned by Coyote’s presence. 
Jake was entirely unphased. His voice was calm and steady even as Devin’s got more and more red with each passing moment. “No, but I am a friend. And if you have a problem with her you’re gonna have to go through me…” Jake added as an afterthought, “And him,” jerking his head to Coyote.
“You think she’ll fuck you if you play hero?” Devin spat out the word fuck as if the thought of you and sex in the same sentence disgusted him. “You don’t gotta try that hard to get her to spread.”
Jake shrugged and casually dismissed the comment. “That’s really not my business or yours.” 
“She is my business; that’s my girl.” 
Devin jabbed a finger over Jake’s shoulder in your direction without looking away from Jake, and you instinctively shrunk further back behind Fanboy. Until you felt the material between your fingers, you didn’t even realize that your hand had reached up to fist the back of Fanboy’s uniform. 
You didn’t know, logically, why you were afraid. Whatever Jake was doing, he was doing a marvelous job of keeping Devin’s eyes off of you. You were absolutely certain that Devin would have to knock Jake out to get to you, not that he could even manage that. You were also absolutely certain that even if he did, he’d still have to make it through Rooster, Fanboy, Fritz, Payback, and Coyote, not to mention the dozen Navy guys from other squads currently spectating who would jump in to assist, or Penny or Mav. There was just something about his finger pointing at you, accusing you, that made that feeling of helplessness bubble up inside you again, that made you feel pinned, trapped under his hand.
“I’ll do whatever I want with her.”
It was like Jake knew or could sense your growing bubble of fear. He leaned ever so slightly to one side, like he was simply shifting his weight from foot to foot, before standing back up straight in between Devin’s finger and you.  
“Not anymore.” Jake declared firmly. “You’re already about a mile closer to her than I want you to be.”
That declaration made Devin’s lips twist up into something akin to a smirk. “I’ve been a lot closer to her than this.”
Jake’s shoulders tensed, and for the first time it seemed like Devin got to him. “I know exactly how close you got.” His voice darkened, and you could practically picture the look in his eyes, practically knew it by heart from the night you told him what Devin had done. “Where I’m from, we don’t treat women like that.”
Devin laughed humorously, heading tilting back to let the single tone ring out in the air. “Well we aren’t where you’re from. That’s my girl, and I’ll do what I want with her.”
You shivered involuntarily, like someone had dropped an ice cube down the back of your shirt. It sent a chill through you to think of Devin alone with you, doing what he wanted with you. You remembered what he did the last time he had that power over you. You couldn’t let it happen again.
“No,” It took a moment to register that Jake was the one snarling, not Devin, not even you. The word came out in a hiss between his teeth. “You’ll do what she wants. And right now she doesn’t want you here.” 
For whatever reason, Devin was getting to Jake. The unshakeable, unflappable Jake Seresin was rising to a rolling boil under the surface of his skin, and there was nothing he could do to hide it. From the tone of his voice to the tension in his shoulders, to the way his fingers twitched in and out of a fist, Devin and what he was saying was under Jake’s skin.
Devin saw it; you could tell. You couldn’t see his eyes around the bodies between the two of you, but you saw his posture change, his stance open up and his chest puff out. He leaned in and sneered, “She needed to be put in her place. She looks better roughed up anyway.”
You felt their eyes on you. The squad. The whole bar. None of them were actually looking at you. None of their heads turned, but you knew every one of them was staring at an image of you in their minds. Maybe they all figured it out before. Maybe they knew when Devin walked in or when Jake escorted you home. Or maybe they didn’t know anything at all, but either way Devin just gave them confirmation.
Payback was no longer content to play the bystander. His shoes clicked on the floor, echoing in the silence that existed throughout the bar as Jake and Devin sparred. He flanked Jake’s other side, shoulder to shoulder with him as Coyote had been since the confrontation began. 
Coyote didn’t move an inch except for the hand at his side that clenched into a fist. 
Jake took a step closer. But for the inch of height difference, he stood nose to nose with Devin as he said, “Where I’m from, a man lays his hands on a woman, and you take him out back and put one between his eyes.”
Devin pushed up, must’ve stood on his tiptoes to do it, to close the gap with Jake, to put himself on the same level as the pilot. “She’s mine, you fucker.” Flecks of spit, visible even at your distance, splattered against Jake’s cheek. “Get the fuck out of the way.” 
Devin’s hands came up and shoved Jake in both shoulders, hard.
Jake’s shoulders didn’t give an inch. His feet didn’t budge. His posture didn’t change. 
Jake’s voice dropped low, so low you barely heard it. If a single soul in the bar had been focused on anything other than the confrontation at hand, if the jukebox hadn’t run to the end of its queue of songs and left the bar in silence, if any more distance had been between the two of you, you wouldn’t have heard the rough, guttural retort from somewhere deep inside Jake’s chest, “You’re really, really gonna have to make me.”
Without warning, Devin swung.
He was standing too close to Jake, almost chest to chest with the taller aviator. There was no good angle from which to strike, and his arm took a wide arc away from his body to get the necessary momentum and distance to hit at Jake with any force.
It was like it moved in slow motion, Jake’s head turned, his eyes following the direction of the swing as it approached his face.
You gasped and clung tighter to Fanboy, who blindly reached back to clutch your arm, pulling you in closer to him.
The fear, entirely for Jake, was also entirely unnecessary.
Jake’s head leaned to one side and effortlessly avoided the blow. Devin stumbled a couple steps to the side as his momentum carried him past Jake.
It gave Jake the space he needed to counter, not with a wide, slow hook around to the side of Devin’s face, but with a swift, firm uppercut to his jaw.
The connection sent a crack echoing through the bar, and Devin’s entire body went slack before he even hit the floor.
Coyote caught his arm before he could collapse, not that it did Devin any good to be under Coyote’s care instead of Jake’s. Coyote’s grip was so tight on Devin’s upper arm that you were sure it would bruise not just the skin but the muscles underneath.
Jake bent down over the other man and bent a finger up under his jaw. Devin’s head tipped up into Jake’s face without any protest and fell back to bob loosely to one side the moment Jake wasn’t supporting him any more.
“He’ll be out cold for a while.” Jake declared, glancing up to give Coyote a nod.
Coyote dropped his grip on Devin and let him crumple unceremoniously to the floor.
“Now,” Jake left Coyote to deal with Devin, stepping over the unconscious body on the floor as one might step over a puddle in the street. He ambled over to Rooster, whose presence had been more than enough to hold off Devin’s two buddies for the brief ten seconds of fighting, if it could even be categorized as a fight.
“Are you two,” Jake wagged a finger between Devin’s two friends as he came shoulder to shoulder with Rooster, “the ones she told me helped him out last week? Cause I gotta bone to pick with them too?”
“No, we didn’t!” The shorter of the two declared loudly. “Look, we don’t want any trouble.”
Jake’s head turned to glance back over his shoulder, and for the first time since Devin confronted you, you made eye contact with Jake.
His eyes were hard, cold, unfeeling. He wasn’t angry anymore. He wasn’t upset or worried or fearful or any of the other emotions you felt warring inside of you. The mask was back on, the unflappable exterior that only you had seen beneath before tonight. He wasn’t waiting for them; he was waiting for you. A good soldier, waiting for his orders.
Imperceptibly to everyone but Jake who was watching you like a hawk, you shook your head. This had gone on long enough already tonight. You just wanted it to be over.
“Well then,” Jake turned back to the two friends in tow. “Why don’t you take your buddy and get out of here?” Jake stepped close, towering over the shorter one as he added, “Tell him if he comes back round here to bother her again; I will spend the rest of my life making sure he’s too afraid to even look at another woman.”
Beside Jake, Rooster began casually cracking the knuckles of his fist one by one, presumably for emphasis.
There was a dull thud that drew the quad of men’s attention back towards Devin.
Payback was squatting over the unconscious man. He’d seemingly been rooting through the other man’s pockets. The sound of his wallet dropping back onto Devin’s back was the noise that drew the men’s eyes and everyone else’s watching as a result.
Payback was waving a credit card in the air in Jake’s general direction.
“Good idea,” Jake wandered over and snatched up the card. “Call it payback for disturbing the bar tonight.” Jake’s teasing smirk was back as he used Payback’s callsign. He abandoned the group to amble back towards Penny at the bar, and his absence seemed to break the tension.
The patrons, scattered around, all began slowly turning back to their tables. The conversation was quieter, hushed whispers that were no doubt mostly about the fight they’d just watched ensue, but their eyes seemed to have drank in their fill of the scene.
Under the watchful eye of Rooster, with Coyote and Payback standing by, Devin’s two friends draped their friend unceremoniously across their shoulders. Despite the struggle they were clearly having, not a soul offered to help as they stumbled under his weight out of the bar.
“I hope they have to drag him to the car.”
You jumped and turned your head to find that at some point in the chaos Phoenix and Bob had come up on the other side of the pool table as a last line of defense.
“Please, I hope they faceplant in the gravel.”
You let out a humorous laugh at Phoenix’s comment as your body finally slumped under the weight of the evening, resting back against the pool table with a huff of air.
“Are you…”
“Fritz, if you ask me if I’m okay, I will walk out of this bar right now.” You held up a finger to silence him.
You were not okay. You would be okay, one day; you knew that much. But that day was not today.
In the distance, like you were hearing an echo from the other end of a long tunnel, you registered the bell ringing for a free round. Your vision was tunneling too, but you could make out Jake was leaning across the bar, ringing the bell himself as he slammed Devin’s card on the bar in front of Penny.
Maverick, always present in front of Penny’s bar, slapped him on the back and whispered something in his ear, but Jake seemed, for once, thoroughly uninterested in his commanding officer.
His eyes, you thought, appeared to be focused on you. He left the bar before he even got his own free drink and headed straight back towards the pool tables.
Coyote and Rooster tried to talk to him, but he brushed him off. By the time he reached Fanboy, still awkwardly hovering in front of you, his destination was clear, and Fanboy slid right out of his way.
“Come on,” Jake held out a hand to you. “Penny won’t mind if you don’t finish out your shift.”
It wasn’t a tunnel you were looking through now so much as a camera, the lens zooming in and zooming out, narrowing and expanding your field of vision around Jake.
Jake, the only thing in the world right now that felt safe, that felt ok.
You numbly, clumsily, flung your hand out to grasp his, and as his fingers laced through yours you thought you might have a different answer to Fritz’s question, not that you’d ever voice it.
—————————————
“Thank you.”
It was about an hour after you and Jake had left the bar.
He’d walked you out the back door of the Hard Deck and down the beach for the better part of half an hour before the two of you wordlessly agreed to find a comfortable spot to sit down in the sand.
The silence had been more comfortable than you ever thought silence with Jake could be. Every time he’d driven you home from the Hard Deck, he’d felt the need to fill every available moment with some kind of noise, compulsively turning up the volume on the radio or making snarky, sarcastic commentary about anything that passed by the window. Silence was not Jake Seresin’s forte.
Yet the silence between the two of you had felt like a comforting blanket, wrapping you in understanding. He already knew what happened between you and Devin; the hard part of that explanation was over. He already knew why Devin was there that night, what must have prompted him to show up, what he was hinting at in front of the whole bar. He knew nothing else about you, but he knew this, knew every detail of the most painful moment of your life, and he accepted it without question, gave you what you needed without question, helped you without question.
“You don’t have to thank me for doing the right thing for once in my life, Hurricane.” Jake murmured. “It’s a nice change of pace.”
You wished you could deny that, say that Jake was a great guy, say that he always did the right thing or that he was a good man. But the truth was he often wasn’t. He was flawed, deeply so, rude when it was uncalled for, inappropriate when the moment was serious, lewd when he should have been respectful, confrontational when he should have been kind. He was as flawed as any other human being, maybe more so.
But when you needed him he was there. When no one else was there, he was there. And that, to you, forgave any multitude of sins.
“What did Mav say to you when you left?”
“What?” Jake did a quick double take, looking down at you beside him. “Oh,” He chuckled to himself. “He said, ‘Good man, no push-ups tomorrow when I shoot you down.’”
“Well,” you smiled, “I owe you a lot more than a few push ups.”
“You owe me nothing.”
You squeezed his hand, his fingers which had been laced in yours since he led you out of the Hard Deck, “How about a second chance? If I remember correctly we didn’t get off to the best start.”
Jake smirked, “Not a chance am I starting over. You’re still my Hurricane.”
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 10 months
Text
Three Four, That’s the Magic Number - Hangman
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin / Wife!Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog is 18+ Only!
Warnings: (Unplanned) Pregnancy; (Failed) Vasectomies; Humor; Suggestive Language; Marital Disagreements; Threats of Kicks to the Balls; Female Reader with No Description, No Y/N, Second Person POV, Use of "You"
Summary: You thought that three kids was it. But apparently your husband, Hangman, didn't have as successful of a vasectomy as you initially thought.
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Holding your head in your hand, you tried to quell your sudden nausea as your husband continued to drive you and your family across town to the Bradshaw family home for a Dagger pool day. Your head was pounding and you swore that your body was naturally swaying on its own and your kids fighting in the back seat was not helping your mood. 
“Hey!” Jake barked when your son kicked the back of your seat, causing all three of your kids to jump. “Sit down and apologize to your mama right now, Charlie.”
“Sorry, Mama,” Charlie mumbled out quietly.  
“Thank you, baby,” you replied softly, still feeling out of it. 
“If you three don’t stop fighting, we’re not going to the pool,” Jake warned your three kids. Coming to a stop at a red light, he turned around to shoot them the classic ‘do not test me today’ look that your kids knew to not test. “So, if you want to go to the pool and play with your friends, you’re going to stop fighting. Got it?”
“Yes, Daddy,” the three of them chorused together. 
Turning to shoot you a concerned look, since you hadn’t looked like yourself for what felt like days now, Jake started driving again when the light turned green. Pulling into the Bradshaw driveway, you slowly got out of your seat and moved to pull your kids out of the back. Jake grabbed the food and took Liam and set him on his hip so that you could walk in without any extra weight. 
The Bradshaw house was packed with the Daggers and their families. The years since the uranium facility mission had only made the Dagger relationships stronger and even though they didn’t all live near each other anymore, they made efforts to get together when they could. Especially with a lot of their kids being around the same age. 
Your three kids quickly joined in the activities with the other Dagger babies, letting you get a brief moment of peace. You and Jake stepped out into the backyard with Jake resting a concerned hand on your lower back, as if he was worried that you’d collapse on him. 
“Are you sure that you’re fine?” Jake asked worriedly.
“I’m fine,” you assured him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I probably just need to eat and drink some more water. That’s all.”
“Go sit down. I’ll grab you something.”
Jake reluctantly parted from your side and headed inside again while you made your way over to where Phoenix and Payback’s wife Dana were sitting by the pool. The direct sun caused your head to pound once again. 
“You look horrible,” Phoenix commented, causing you to sigh and drop onto a chair. 
“I feel horrible,” you muttered, shifting the umbrella over to block the sun. 
“Are you sick?” Dana asked, sitting up. 
“No. I don’t have a fever or anything like that. It’s probably just some stomach thing or just me being exhausted.”
“You’re nauseous?”
“Only sometimes,” you replied with a shrug, lying flat on your back. 
“Have you been sleeping well?”
“No,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes and blinking slowly. “Liam’s still sleeping in our bed most nights and he usually kicks one of us awake. Mostly Jake, actually.”
“Eh, Hangman probably deserved it,” Phoenix muttered, shrugging her shoulders. 
“Love you too, Phoenix,” Jake muttered, arriving on the scene. 
He offered you a plate of food and a cup of water. You took the offering from your husband and shot him a small smile. In return, Jake leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. 
“Thanks, baby,” you told him, smiling softly. 
“You’ll let me know if you need to go home, right?” Jake asked you, shooting that look that he always did whenever you over-exerted yourself. 
“Yes, Commander Seresin,” you replied sarcastically, shooting him an exasperated expression. 
“We don’t need to be here for your foreplay,” Phoenix stated from behind Jake, causing Dana to burst out into snickers. 
“Daddy!” Annie called, causing Jake to immediately spin around to see her standing on the steps of the pool with Bob right beside her. “Come play in the pool!”
“I’m coming, Princess!” 
Jake peeled off his shirt and handed it over to you. Shooting you one last concerned look, Jake headed over to join Annie in the pool. You folded his shirt up and set it beside you before reaching for your water. 
“How long have you been feeling ill?” Dana asked as you sipped at your water. “Jake seems pretty concerned.”
“About a week,” you replied quietly, reaching for the food that he brought you. 
“You made an appointment?”
“Not yet. But I’m worried that he’ll make one for me if I drag my feet anymore,” you stated honestly, popping a grape into your mouth. 
“Are you telling me that we’re in for another classic Hangman freak out?” Phoenix sighed, taking a long sip of her beer. “I haven’t had enough drinks to deal with that yet.”
“I think that Annie’s keeping him distracted for now,” you responded, smiling as Jake tossed Annie up in the air and caught her. Annie squealed as Jake pressed a kiss to her cheek and tossed her in the air again. “She’s got him wrapped around her finger at all times.”
You moved to eat some crackers and cheese, keeping everything lighter and stomach friendly. But when your caught a whiff of potato salad that all seemed to be for nothing. Plugging your nose, you quickly set down your food and sipped at your water to try and keep your stomach from rolling dangerously. 
“Do you need Jake?” Dana asked, sitting up.  
“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Phoenix added, sharing a look with Dana. 
“I’m fine. And stop looking at me like that or Jake is going to notice.”
“I’d make that appointment soon,” Phoenix told you honestly. “Not much gets by him. But don’t tell him I said that.”
“No, you’re right,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair. Staring up at the umbrella over your head, you sunk a bit more into your seat. “I’ll make the appointment.”
~~~~~
“Any allergies?” the nurse asked you. 
“No, none,” you replied, sitting up on the exam table of your doctor’s office. 
“Any changes to your medication?”
“Nope.”
“When was your last period?”
“I don’t know, probably three weeks ago or something like that,” you replied, not entirely sure. You hardly kept track of it anymore at this stage in your life. 
“And any chance that you could be pregnant?” she asked, causing you to shake your head. 
“My husband had a vasectomy.”
“But are you still sexually active?”
“Yes.”
“In the last few months?”
“Yes.”
“Then, we’ll need you to take a urine test,” the nurse assistant replied, pulling out a plastic cup from the cupboard. “It’s standard procedure.”
Reluctantly, you took the cup and headed down the hall to the bathroom. After what felt like twenty years, your doctor finally entered your exam room. 
“How are we doing today, Mrs. Seresin?”
“I’ve been better,” you replied, swinging your legs back and forth. 
“Yes, I understand that.”
Your doctor asked you a series of questions, did a quick physical exam, before returning to the computer in the corner of the room. Typing in your answers and some notes to herself, your doctor turned back to you. 
“Well, I think with all of your symptoms and your test results, there’s one clear cause of your illness—you’re pregnant.”
“That’s funny,” you laughed off, but your doctor remained serious. 
“Mrs. Seresin, you’re pregnant. Your urine test came back with clear results. Based on your hormone levels, I’d put you somewhere around six to eight weeks.”
“But my husband got a vasectomy,” you insisted, as if that changed anything. “There’s no way that I’m pregnant.”
“Do you use protection with him?”
“No,” you replied, as if it were obvious. 
“Might I suggest making an appointment with your obstetrician?” your doctor spoke softly, causing you to sink into your seat. 
~~~~~
Making dinner that night, you swore that you weren’t seeing or thinking straight. Your doctor’s words kept echoing around head and stole any smidge of sanity that you maintained. Your kids were running around causing a ruckus as they always were and Jake still wasn’t home, which only added to your inner turmoil. 
You hadn’t told Jake about what the doctor told you. It didn’t feel right breaking that kind of news over the phone or text. And frankly, you were torn between stressing about Jake’s reaction to your news and wanting to have the upper hand so that you could jump out strangle him the second that he got home. 
“Daddy’s home!” Charlie called, setting off a chain reaction. 
You looked up to see the kids run over to the door to greet Jake. Trying to not get too caught up in how excited the kids were to see their dad, you focused on getting the table set up for dinner. The door swung open and Jake stepped inside, immediately dropping his bag and holding out his arms. 
“You’re all here for me?” he teased, pulling your three kids in for a hug and kiss. “Well, aren’t I just the luckiest guy?”
Sniffling, you set down the plates full of food for the kids before turning back for the kitchen to get started on the dishes. Jake usually did them after dinner, but you just needed to do something to steady yourself. Jake released your kids, telling them to go and wash their hands, before turning to you. 
“Hey, Mama,” he greeted you, playfully tapping your ass. Wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you away from the dishes, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and then your neck. “How was your day?”
“Oh, I just found out some news,” you replied, seemingly calm. 
“What kind of news?” Jake asked curiously. 
“The kind that will have you sleeping on the couch tonight,” you stated, a bit more aggravation seeping into your tone. 
“What? What’s wrong?” Jake questioned, confused and looking a bit like a kicked puppy with your harsh tone. But that look wasn’t going to do him any favors today. 
“You didn’t keep up your end of the deal.”
“Honey, what deal?”
“The one where you promised to not knock me up with another one of your heavy, always late, big-headed children!”
“Wait, you—you’re pregnant?” Jake breathed out, inspecting you closer. “Really?”
“I could easily knee you in the balls right now,” you warned Jake, eyes narrowing. “Maybe I need to since your ‘vasectomy’ clearly didn’t work!”
“What’s with the air quotes?” Jake asked, grabbing your hands. “Honey, you were there.”
“Not in the operating room.”
“Were you supposed to be?”
“Jacob,” you warned him, shooting him a look to shut up. 
“Mommy, Liam was trying to eat the soap again,” Charlie complained, causing you to look away from Jake. 
“For the love of—Liam, what did I tell you about eating soap?”
“I got this,” Jake told you, turning to walk over to the bathroom. “Just . . . sit down and breathe.”
Jake walked off to grab Liam while you scrubbed away at the dishes again. Charlie sat down at the table, closely followed by Annie and then Jake carried out Liam and sat him in his chair. Turning to see you still erratically scrubbing at the same pot, Jake sighed and approached you. He called your name, but you didn’t look up. 
“Honey,” Jake tried again, “let’s just eat and I’m sure that you’re exhausted and probably just want to shower and go to bed.”
“I made an appointment with my obstetrician and with your urologist,” you replied, changing the subject on your husband. 
“My urologist?”
“About your ‘vasectomy’,” you stated, adding passive aggressive air quotes again around vasectomy. “It’s in a month.”
“When? I have a bunch of—”
“—I already called your secretary and picked a time that fits into your schedule.” Turning to shoot your husband a look, you wiped off your hands on a towel. “You’re going.”
You stormed past him, leaving no room for argument. Jake winced and watched you walk over to the dinner table with your three kids. And although you looked just about ready to rip his head off and could very possibly read his thoughts, Jake couldn’t help but think about how much better the dining table set would look with six chairs instead of five. 
But he wasn’t going to talk about that right now. He wanted to wake up tomorrow morning. 
~~~~~
Jake sat on the exam table while you paced around the room with your arms folded across your chest and your purse in the optimal position to swing it and whack your husband. You were already starting to show and your appointment with your obstetrician was the week before. You and the baby were perfectly healthy despite the fact that you were in ‘advanced maternal age.’ 
Your husband slept on the couch after that appointment too just because you were feeling spiteful about that. 
Jake was still dressed in his uniform, on a short break from work to attend this appointment. He met you at the doctor’s office while Dana Fitch invited your kids over for the afternoon. And although he tried to brighten your mood by promising to grab dinner on his way home and maybe something extra, you face was permanently screwed into a frown since you arrived at the office. 
A knock on the door caused you to stop pacing and turn as the urologist slowly stepped into the room with a kind smile. 
“Mr. and Mrs. Seresin. How are we?”
“Pregnant,” you stated bluntly. 
“Yes, I heard. Congratulations,” the urologist replied somewhat awkwardly before taking his seat. “Though I’m assuming you’re wondering how that’s possible.”
“You read my mind,” you responded calmly and not at all sarcastic. 
“Well, I should inform you that you’re not the first couple to have a pregnancy after a vasectomy. While it’s not common, it can still happen.”
“And in this case?”
“I’m not entirely sure without any additional tests,” the urologist replied honestly. “And in this case, I think that starting with a sample is the best course of action. Once we have those results, we can discuss whether or not another vasectomy is necessary.”
“Another one?” Jake asked quietly. 
But he instantly tried to bite back his words when he caught the way that your head snapped around to shoot him a glare. 
“Oh, that must be so inconvenient and painful for you to have to deal with,” you drawled sarcastically, causing Jake to wince. 
“Sorry.”
You left the room to let Jake talk with the urologist privately and to check in on the kids. Glancing at the door to make sure that you were in fact gone, the urologist turned to Jake. 
“I’m not trying to overstep and cause any trouble but we often ask men in this position if there is any possibility of them wanting a paternity test,” the urologist offered, causing Jake to chuckle. 
“Not necessary,” Jake replied, laughing off the absurdity of the urologist’s suggestion. “Just some strong swimmers. That’s all.”
~~~~~
Jake headed out to the parking lot to see you sitting on a bench in the shade of the building, furiously typing away at your phone. Approaching carefully, like he was approaching a wild animal, he slowly sat down beside you. 
“They’ll call me back with the results in a few days,” Jake stated, causing you to nod and put away your phone. “Are you okay?”
“I still want to kick you in the balls,” you stated, shooting your husband a look. 
“Have I mentioned that I greatly appreciate your restraint?” Jake offered, causing you to scoff. “Honey, I can’t read your mind. Please just tell me what’s bothering you.”
“I just . . . I can’t believe we’re those people,” you sighed, holding a hand to your head. 
“What do you mean by those people?”
“You know, those people. Those couples who were dumb enough after having three kids to not know what birth control is. Those couples that can’t keep their hands off of each other and just fuck around like a bunch of animals and there’s evidence for all of it! I mean, who sets out planning to have four kids?”
“Baby, who gives a shit about what other people think about us?” Jake replied seriously, grabbing your hand. “It’s none of their business about how many kids we do or don’t have. And I’m not going to apologize to anyone for maintaining a healthy sex life with my wife after three kids. Are you?”
“No,” you huffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Of course not.” Pausing for a moment, you turned back to Jake. “I kind of rubbed it in stupid Gina Denison’s face that we’re still banging a few days ago.”
Gina Denison was one of the moms of Charlie’s friend group. Her husband was a tool and looked like he hated his life every time he showed up.  And Gina was always so flirty with Jake, grabbing his arm and complimenting him on everything, that you contemplated kicking your son’s soccer ball straight into her face. 
“She did look pretty glum actually,” Jake mused, rubbing your knee. 
“Good.”
“Then what’s there to worry about?” Jake asked, causing you to sigh. 
“There’s the whole bedroom situation first of all. Unless we want to turn the guest room into the nursery, the kids are going to have to share.”
“We’ll just convert the playroom upstairs. Easy fix. A new coat of paint and moving some things around and we’re fine.”
“And we can only fit three car seats into the back of your truck.”
“Then we’ll take the other car for family outings,” Jake pointed out softly, rubbing your knee again.
“And Liam’s still coming into our bed most nights. What happens when I’m eight months pregnant and there’s no room?”
“I’ll have a talk with him about it,” Jake offered, causing you to raise an eyebrow. 
“You’ve talked to him about it a hundred times already. What’s changed?”
“I have my ways.”
And by ‘his ways,’ Jake was quietly referring to the fact that when you were heavily pregnant, you snored. Loudly. And now Jake had never told you that when you were heavily pregnant you snored because he wasn’t an idiot. It was like complaining about how uncomfortable the chairs were in the delivery room. Only a fucking selfish pathetic loser complained about that stuff to his pregnant wife. 
And he already had a slip up with the whole second vasectomy thing in there and he was trying to quickly recover from that. 
Turning to you and gently cupping your cheek so that you turned to him, Jake leaned in and rested her forehead against your own. 
“Honey, you know that I’m here, right? You don’t have to go through this alone and you don’t have to hold all of the stress about it. We’re fine. We have the money. We have the space. We have the extra hands if we need babysitters. And for anything else, just tell me about it. I’m here for you and our four babies. Anything you want, you let me know, okay?”
“Okay,” you agreed softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. Smiling up at your husband through your eyelashes, you suddenly grew serious. “I want you to get another vasectomy.”
“Yeah, I thought you were going to say that,” Jake sighed, wincing a bit again. 
~~~~~
Jake was turning forty this year. The big 4-0. And it only seemed fitting to him that he got to have his four kids by his side for this birthday. But since it happened to fall on a random Tuesday that Jake had to work, you and the kids just put together a small party for him. You cooked him his favorite dinner and the kids gave him the card that they made for him. And then it was time for the cake. 
“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Daddy, Happy Birthday to you!” you and three of your kids sang along. 
But little baby Hazel, who was about a year and a half now, was more focused on trying to touch the cake with her finger than singing. Jake smiled and grabbed her hand, shaking it to distract her long enough for you to take a photo. 
“Alright, time to blow out the candles!” you called, holding up your phone to take the photo.
“On three,” Jake instructed your kids. “Ready? One . . . two . . . three.” 
Your four kids, who were all seated or standing next to Jake, blew out the candles with him. You snapped a few quick photos before putting your phone away. Jake started clapping, causing Hazel to giggle and clap along too. You quickly grabbed the cake and cut it up. Passing around the slices of cake, you smiled and pressed a loving kiss to your husband’s lips. 
“Happy Birthday, Jake.”
“Thank you, baby,” he returned, shooting you a wink. 
Your kids talked excitedly with Jake about the upcoming weekend. Jake’s parents were flying in for his birthday and you were going to take a short vacation as a family. Jake listened and talked intently with your children before it was time to start the bedtime routines. You and Jake worked together to get Hazel and then Liam and then Annie and Charlie all ready for bed. 
And once the kids were all asleep and tucked away for the night, you grabbed Jake by the hand and pulled him into your shared bedroom. In about three seconds flat, you had Jake on his back and straddled him. 
“Happy Birthday,” you grinned, pressing a set of needy kisses to his lips. 
“Are you my present?” Jake asked coyly, kneading your hips with his hands. 
“Sure am, Cowboy,” you replied, pulling off your shirt and tossing it onto the floor. But before you kissed him again, you quickly cursed and got up to lock the door to your bedroom. Smiling apologetically at Jake, you quickly hopped up onto the bed again. “Don’t want to risk the kids walking in on us.”
“It’s my birthday. Tonight, you’re mine. All mine,” Jake agreed, pulling you in for another kiss. 
And with assurance that his second vasectomy was successful, you happily started on your birthday gift for him.
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thewulf · 11 months
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Good News || Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Summary: So i saw somewhere where a woman got into trouble for "destruction of government property" but it's just her giving her military husband hickies, and i think this would be so hilarious with Jake Seresin.
A/N: This one came so quickly to me. It's just pure fluff. All the Jake Seresin fluff! Short but sweet. Hope you all enjoy :)
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N
Word Count: 2.3k +
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Your eyes flipped back to the calendar on the wall with a big red circle around today. You’d probably looked at that calendar a thousand times over the last six months as you waited. Waited agonizingly every single day praying you wouldn’t get a knock on your door or the dreaded phone call.
Jake had been deployed on a carrier off the coast of Israel in the Mediterranean Sea for the last six months. You knew it came with the territory when you started dating him all those years ago. It terrified you every single time he came to tell you he was off on a mission or going on orders overseas. You’d never show it, only your utmost support and confidence in the man. But you knew how dangerous it was. He told you about all the men and women he’s seen gone down and some never making it home in his short span as a pilot in the Navy. It didn’t just terrify you, it rocked you all the way down to your core. What if he didn’t make it home? He was a hell of a pilot, one of the best that was flying, but things didn’t always go your way. He knew that. You knew it. Everybody seemed to know it.
But today was the day. He was coming home. After the months of shitty less than communication and trying your best to stay distracted it was here. He was safe. He was alive. You’d talked to him just a few hours ago. Waiting.
Jake’s parents picked you up from your shared home just off base that’d been eerily quiet in his absence. They didn’t want you driving in your hyper-fixated state. They never wanted you driving when it came to these kinds of events. They knew how much it tore you up when he was gone on deployment. If you didn’t fly down to Texas they made sure to fly to you. Just to keep you company. You hadn’t a clue how you’d gotten so lucky to have them in your life. And hopefully in the future as family. You never pushed it though. You didn’t want him to panic and ran. And truth be told you’d be fine never marrying him so long as he was like this in your life. Your best friend and love wrapped up in one.
“Are you excited?” His mom asked seeing you nearly bouncing out of the backseat once the car rolled onto base.
“Oh Nancy,” you could only nod your head in confirmation, “I’m more than excited.” Your cheeks were starting to burn from the big cheesy grin you were wearing.
His dad, David, spoke up, “I know Jake is just as excited.” He smiled just feeling the excitement in the air. These days were truly the best. Six months was a long time to be away. The longest deployment he’d been on in years.
The three of you made small talk as David drove to the base. Once parked, you happily led the older couple over to where the sailors would stand before they waited to be dismissed. You watched as the hundred or so men and women aboard the ship departed to their designated formation. Your eyes scanned for your loved one. Your Jake.
Finally spotting him you waited anxiously as the rest of the crew lined up. You just had to wait it out another ten minutes or so. They had to officially be dismissed before they could break for the family reunions. These last few minutes always seemed to draw on for decades trying to be as patient as possible.
You kept your eyes on him as he kept his forward. You hadn’t a clue that he already spotted you moments before you did him. But he had to keep his attention forward. No matter how anxious he was to see his favorite girl again.
They second they were dismissed Jake made a beeline right for you. Your face lit up in surprise as he headed right at you. Your body responding by moving forward you jumped right into his arms once he got close enough. He was more than ready. He wrapped his arms right around you securing you tightly to his chest while your feet locked behind him.
“Jakey.” You grinned hugging him tightly, afraid he’d be gone from your arms again you cherished every second like this. It made you realize how much you really did love the man you were holding so tightly. How much you craved him, everything about him. You’d rather not have had him gone for six months though. That was far too long for your liking. As if you had any say.
“Honey.” He cooed gently rocking you side to side. One arm snaked around your waist, one arm gently cradling your head in his hands, “You’re so fucking pretty. How’d you get even more beautiful? God I missed your face.” Jake leaned down capturing your lips in his. As gentle as he normally was with you this was hungrier. He really had missed you. Giving your hip as squeeze you felt him smile into the kiss as you squirmed away from his grasp.
Once you stopped giggling you looked right into his eyes smiling dopily, “And I missed yours, handsome man.” You gave him a wicked smirk before doing the unthinkable. Jake had warned you time and time again how he couldn’t show visible marks on the skin, or the Navy could have his ass. And maybe even yours if they were angry enough. You’d known they were empty threats, but you’d never dreamed of potentially hurting his flying in anyway. So, you’d never leave any marks.
Sliding his collar to the side you decided to throw caution to the wind seeing everybody lost in their own world with their own families. Jake’s parents were even admiring all the reunions around them instead of having their eyes fixated on the two of you. They loved watching all the joy every time. Nancy always made sure that every sailor was feeling the love. That was just one of the reasons you’d fallen in love not only with Jake but his entire family. His mom was as sweet as they came. His dad just as caring but even more tough. It was no wonder Jake was the way he was. Albeit a little more of an asshole than either of them even combined.
“Ma’am. That is abhorrent.” A vaguely familiar voice made you focus on your surroundings once more, “This is Destruction of Government Property.” You heard a cough from behind Jake drawing you away from your boyfriends neck. The look you sent could’ve killed him if it were at all possible. Bradley fucking Bradshaw. Was he actually serious right now?
You felt Jake’s laughter in his chest before you heard it. Flicking your eyes up momentarily at him you kissed him on his cheek before flipping Bradley off, “I don’t care Bradley.” You continued flipping him off while Jake held you tightly to his chest.
“Sweetheart…” Jake tried to warn you. The government really did own his ass. But his Commanding Officer was cool. He wasn’t expected to be back on base for another few weeks… what did a few hickies hurt? You knew the drill, but it didn’t seem to matter as you clung to him like he was about to vanish at any second. He looked down at your doe eyed expression, “I missed you.” He finished realizing just how hard deployment really was on you. The two of you were going on year five together. He’d been a pilot for all of them. He’d flown his hardest missions during that time. Your support never wavered. But seeing you like this? Like you’d never see him again… it hurt him. It hurt knowing you were feeling like that.
“You’ll care when there are Naval Officers on your doorstep.” Bradley tried. He really did. But you really didn’t care. You missed him more than anything. You didn’t care that his parents were there watching. You just missed him. Missed his corny ass jokes and the soft touches he always threw your way. You missed the sweet smiles and laughter that came with being around him. 
“So be it. Worth it.” You giggled as Jake pinched your sides again bringing your attention back to the man you’d dreamed about every day.
“Eyes over here darling.” He made sure to flip Bradley off before holding you back in his arms once again. He wouldn’t let you drop your hold on him. He wanted you close. He didn’t care either. He’d craved you for those months. He’d forgotten just how bad deployment got. Bradley mumbled some incoherent words before disappearing off into the crowd.
Kissing his cheek once more you nodded, “Sorry Jakey.” Brushing your hands through his hair it felt like it really was just the two of you there. Like nobody else was around.
“No need to apologize.” He whispered in your ear sending immediate chills down your spine, “You didn’t answer my question though. How’d you seem to get even more beautiful while I was gone?”
You truly felt like a little schoolgirl was a nasty crush on a boy way out of your league. He was so sweet to you and only you. Not having a clue why. You loved watching him interact with everyone else. He was so different than the man who came home to you every night. But that was Jake. Tough as they come. Sweet as can be. The biggest fight the two of you had was when he came home and told you about the six month long deployment a year ago. You didn’t even fight you were just sad. Sad that he volunteered to go. Volunteered and didn’t tell you. The two of you worked through it though. You always did.
“Shush. You’ve just been trapped on a big boat for so long I’d be offended if you didn’t think I was pretty.” You wanted to kiss him so bad. You didn’t even remember the kiss you gave him once you spotted him walk off the ship. You blacked out, truly.
“Never ever.” He grinned, “I’ll never stop complementing my beautiful girl.”
You squeezed your arms around him pulling him so much closer. You’d melt into him if you could, “You’re too sweet to me Mr. Seresin.”
He shook his head, “Not enough, I’d say.” He took the lead this time leaning down to give you a soft, sweet kiss that was far too short for your liking.
“I love you.” You whispered to him feeling oh so happy. So beyond excited he was holding you in his arms once again. You tried to step away to give his parents a chance to say hello, but he only held you tighter. Shaking his head.
“Love you too, gorgeous girl.” He hummed placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “That was it, by the way.”
You scrunched your eyes together in confusion, “What?”
He nodded his head with that larger than life smile on his face, “You’re looking at Captain Jake Seresin. Command Ground Officer.” He emphasized ground with wide eyes.
“Jake! Congrats. You didn’t tell me! Does this mean you’re here? Permanently?” Looking at him expectedly. It hit you just how good it could really get once you knew he’d be sleeping by your side every night.
He nodded his head in excitement, “At least for this job. I’ll still be flying but more on the leadership side. Training. Preparing them.”
You didn’t think your heart could swell any larger in love. But there it went. Only Jake could do that. You knew it. He knew it, “You’re not kidding right? Like you’re being serious?”
“Yes sweetheart. So serious.” He kissed your nose this time. He missed you more than you could’ve imagined. It was an impossible six months. He didn’t want to do that anymore. He couldn’t be away from you anymore. Lucky for him he had options. They let him choose. He choose to ground himself from missions. It was time to grow up and move on. He’d accomplished everything he sought out to and more already in the air. Now he was on a mission to rise to the top. Admiral Jake Seresin had a ring to it. 
You wanted to squeal but knew you had eyes all over you. Anybody could’ve been watching, “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a while J.”
“Just you wait.” He grinned ear to ear leaning down once more, whispering into your ear, “Won’t even be the best news you’ve heard all day.” Leaning all the way down he kissed you with a little bit more but keeping it PG. His parents were standing there a little annoyed that he’d chosen to be with you for so long before he even acknowledged them. But they knew. They knew the raw power of love. How much it could sway and dissuade. How deeply Jake was in love with you and how much you were with him.
“Oh? Do tell.” You pulled away looking at him curiously.
“You’ll see.” He wiggled his eyebrows just to egg you on.
You narrowed your eyebrows in on the man you loved so dearly, “You know how much I hate surprises.”
He laughed gleefully, “Oh darling, I know.” He pulled you back into him momentarily, “Promise, it’ll be worth the wait.”
“Promise?” You knew he’d keep true to his word, but you wanted to hear him confirm it.
“I promise you darling. Just you wait.” Squeezing your hand, he finally walked over to his parents bringing you right along with him. Only dropping your hand as he went in for the hug with his mom.
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Taglist: @stuffingbuttsandshit @genius2050
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ddejavvu · 2 years
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Trick or treat: Vampire! Hangman. Because just yes yes yes
“Oh, come on sweetheart. You’re delicious in more ways than one.”
trick or treat!
this post is 18+, minors dni. cw period sex with a vampire
"C'mon, darlin'," He pleads, face already burrowed into the cotton of your panties, "Please? I swear it'll help the both of us! I'll make you feel good, 'n take away some of those cramps," He promises, his large hands sliding up your thighs and gently massaging the flesh there. He inhales, nose pressed hard into your clit beneath your panties, "And I'll get to feed."
The shaky exhale that leaves him reminds you of just how starved he's been lately. Feeding off of you isn't easy, he has to ration himself so that he doesn't drain you out of pure excitement. The last time he'd fed was weeks ago, and the red in his eyes is starting to show through again.
“Oh, come on sweetheart," He begs, voice weak against your core, "You’re delicious in more ways than one.”
You suppose it couldn't hurt; after all, it's not like he'd have to bite you to drink your blood this time. It's pooling between your thighs of your body's own doing, and you're sure the smell is torture for him.
"Okay," You reach down, smoothing a hand through his hair. He's already eagerly tugging at the leg hole of your panties when you curl your fingers into his hair, "But no teeth!"
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topherwrites · 8 months
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- start of a silver fox
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summary - back from deployment, you notice a change in your boyfriend's appearance. pairing - jake seresin x (fem!)reader word count - 1.4k rating - no smut, but 18+ anyways, mdni! content warnings & tags - age gap (reader is in her early twenties, jake is in his early thirties) / fwb to lovers / no use of (y/n) / vague allusions to sex / mentions of nudes / mentions of masturbation / no actual smut / mentions of death (sorta) / lmk if i missed anything! a/n: saw these recent photos of glen ➙ became possessed ➙ wrote this. reblogs, comments, and likes super appreciated!
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Jake is back after three long months on deployment, a fourth of your relationship — not counting the first couple months when you were ‘just hooking up’. This is your first welcome back. Having texted extensively with Nat’s girlfriend, Sasha, you were given a pretty good lay of the land by her, informed of what to expect.
Homecoming day has arrived, and excitement has consumed your entire body, making your limbs buzz. 
Awaiting his arrival on the pier, your foot tapping out a nervous rhythm, you stand in the back, allowing spouses and children to be the first in line. You’re just the girlfriend, the one almost a decade younger than him, the one you know his friends assumed wouldn't be around long. You assumed you wouldn't be around long. Jake is a charmer, and when he set his sights on you, you assumed it would be a one-night stand, a fling at most. 
But one night turned into two and then three, which turned into nearly three months of falling asleep and waking up next to him. Most days you’d get a text the second he was done with training, the buzz of your phone always kicking up your heartbeat. 
At first, you’d just meet him at The Hard Deck for drinks, then dinner at sit-down restaurants — the preambles to him fucking the shit out of you growing longer and decidedly less casual. Post-coital, he’d sling an arm around your waist in an attempt to keep you from slipping out, waking up with that same soothing weight on you. Eventually, he casually mentioned that you could keep some of your stuff at his place — for convenience, he said. He tried slipping the suggestion under the radar, pre-coffee on a Saturday morning. Bleary-eyed and half-asleep, you barely processed his words, absent-mindedly humming in response. 
Then you saw the half-cleared-out drawer — which you later learned was a measure in order not to spook you. Like a full drawer would make you wise to his intentions, like he was trying to acclimate you to the idea of commitment, to a relationship with him.
You remember the feeling of placing spare clothes in that drawer; a spare bra and sweatshirt. Jake watching you from the doorway, trying to not act too pleased in response.
You liked him, his company and his laugh and his baffling love of Taylor Swift that he blamed on his nieces. The man under the bravado wormed his way into your brain. 
Though, you could appreciate how he looked puffed-chest and cocksure. Near equally competitive as you are. The first game night you spent with his friends meant you both were banned from ever being on the same team again. Pictionary, trivia, One-Night Ultimate Werewolf — you mopped the floor with them. The rule wasn't entirely the case of sore losers, you can acknowledge the fact that you two were immediately, freakishly in sync. Ultimate Werewolf may have ended in tears of betrayal being shed.
And that's how things progressed for a while, falling deeper while avoiding acknowledging the fact that you were in a relationship. Afraid to say the words and make things complicated. Near everyone in both your and his life were trying to push you both to just trust it. Have a little faith in one another.
One minute you were his girlfriend in all but name, and then you were just his girlfriend. A confession on his couch in the midst of rewatching Veep, ‘Relax, cow eyes’ the soundtrack to everything falling into place.
────────────────────────
Once officers start filtering off the ship, your mind blanks in anxiety. Around you, tears are shed, and poster board is ditched in favor of tight hugs. Laughter and children squealing background noise. You scan the crowd, the sun beating down on you, searching for the handsome shape of Jake Seresin. People come and go, giving you a better view of the naval officers, till you finally spot yours moving towards you. He weaves through the throng with ease, standing before you in a matter of seconds. 
A smile stretches your face, eyes squinting from both happiness and the sun. You scan him, categorizing any minute change. Gray. A small streak above his right ear. Your nerve endings light up like a Christmas tree, the sensation doubling at the slight hint of age. Reaching out, your fingers run across his scalp, nails tracing back, playing with the hair that has decided in his relatively brief absence to go gray. 
He doesn't shy from your touch, his lashes fluttering at the sensation, an intimate moment playing out in public. Though no one is probably taking notice, wrapped up in their own reunion. He does seem to be a hint abashed at your attention. 
He breaks the quiet, “Hey, sweetheart.”
The sound of his voice, clear and unobstructed by distance, rushes through you. Fuck. You're trying to suppress the blatant arousal coursing through your system, keep it out of your voice. Words startled, voice pitched, “You've gone gray.”
Despite your age gap, it’s never been your thing, your Tinder age range has only ever been set 3 years older — but seeing Jake in the flesh, and with a few more grays, is making you muster every ounce of self-control so you don't fuck him in the parking lot, ride him in the backseat of his truck. He probably wouldn't enjoy getting dishonorably discharged.
He hefts his duffle over his shoulder, free hand taking your own to lead you to the car — his truck that he handed the keys over to, something in his gaze when he told you to not let the battery die. Maybe a way for him to feel connected to you, maybe a reassurance that you'd be around when he got back. Your board is still in the bed, having taken up surfing in the mornings since your time was no longer being occupied by Jake slowly fucking you into the mattress.
“I already had grays, I'm just… grayer now.” His pace is quick. It's clear that he's itching to get home. Your boots stamp on the pavement as you practically skip behind him, content with his hand in yours. He looks at you out of the side of his eye, eyebrow raised, “And I wonder why that is.”
“That suspiciously sounds like an accusation.”
“Those photos…” He stops at the teal-striped Ford, throwing his duffle next to your surfboard. Crowding you against the side of it.​, his​​ voice dropping, “​I was opening my mail in the mess, ‘bout gave me a heart attack.”
You’d sent them on a whim — a well-researched whim, ​​you didn't need some random desk jockey finding out your taste in lingerie. But you had missed Jake and wanted him to miss you in return. And what better way to make the heart grow fonder than with scantily clad pictures of your body?
“Well? Did you like them?” You know he liked them, it was a whole production to take them, but even if it wasn't — he’s a man, and you were in lingerie. You looked hot, are hot, present tense. An indisputable fact. And he’s not reserved with telling you and showing you that, but you can't pass up a moment to hear it voiced to you, not after how long he’s been gone.
“I think I have carpal tunnel.” 
You snort out a laugh as he exaggeratedly shakes out his hand, clenching and unclenching his fist for your amusement. Eyes skating along your features, he huffs, “Add that to the long list of ailments you've inflicted.”
Letting your fingers lightly trace down his biceps, you press your body even closer to his, perhaps a touch too scandalous for a parking lot in broad daylight. A coy reply rolls off your tongue, “I keep you young.”
“You're going to send me to an early grave.”
Rising to your toes, you brush your lips against his, holding back from full contact. You feel his breath stall in his chest, desperate for it. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing, his face awash in anticipation. He’s beautiful.
Your palm stroking the side of his head, you brush the hair away from his face, pinky skimming the top of his ear. You single out the silver strands between your fingers, silky soft as ever. He’s real and yours — home. 
“Ditto. Might as well invest in matching plots, right?”
Broad shoulders shaking with laughter, he brushes his nose against yours. Palms cupping the side of your face, thumbs sweeping across your cheeks, he stops waiting. A long-awaited kiss pressed to your lips, neither one of you able to keep the smiles off your faces.
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e/n: thank you for reading!
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roosterforme · 4 months
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Sundays Are for the Boys | Hangman x Reader
Summary: Football Sundays are a sacred tradition amongst Jake and his friends, and he's quick to make sure you know that. But when the boys discover your favorite drink in the refrigerator, Jake makes an exception to his rule.
Warnings: Fluff, language, a tiny bit of smut, 18+
Length: 2600 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Written for Pick Your Poison! Banner by @thedroneranger
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Dating Jake came with one firm rule: Sundays were for watching football with the guys. 
"I mean it," he'd told you months ago when you first started dating him. "I host every week. They come over around ten when the games start, and they don't leave until after the last game ends. No wives. No girlfriends. Just a cooler filled with cheap beer. Sundays are for the boys."
At the time, you thought it was cute that he wanted to spend the day with his friends. "That's adorable," you told him, kissing his cheek. But by the time football season arrived, Jake was already in his Dallas Cowboys jersey, shaking you awake on Sunday morning at nine.
"It's almost game time, Baby. The guys will be here soon."
You looked up at him from his bed with a little smirk. "You're really into this, huh?" 
He kissed your forehead and started to pull you to your feet as you laughed. "It's a thing. I told you this months ago." He patted your bare butt as you looked around for your clothes from the night before. "It's week one, and the Cowboys play the Eagles in the early game. I love putting Payback in a bad mood."
You kissed him before you slipped your underwear on. "I know you do."
He was antsy, and you knew he wanted you to leave, but you also knew he didn't want to say it as he kissed you over and over again. "Baby, you gotta go," he finally whispered as you smiled against his lips. 
"I know, I know," you replied, still amused as you finished getting dressed and packed up your stuff. "Go Cowboys."
Each week, your relationship progressed, but this little routine stayed the same. Jake would inevitably wake you up by nine if you weren't already up. He would be wearing one of his many Dallas Cowboys jerseys. He would walk you out to your car and tell you how much he loved you before you left him to entertain his friends. 
But one Sunday, you woke him up with a blowjob on his birthday. And you took your time with it. Did you have a bit of an ulterior motive? Sure. But it didn't detract from the fact that you wanted him to enjoy himself, and you certainly made sure he did. He was coming hard at exactly 9:42 with his hand on the back of your head and his cock tapping your throat. 
"Oh, fuck!" he groaned. "Fuck!" 
You licked him clean and grinned up at him before kissing his hip and whispering, "I love you, birthday boy." Then you climbed out of bed, kissed his lips and started to get dressed. "It's almost ten. I'll head out."
You saw him waver a bit before he nodded. Then his doorbell rang, and you just knew it would be the guys starting to arrive. He kissed you deeply one more time before pulling on his blue and gray jersey and some gym shorts. "Take your time getting dressed. I'll go let them in."
"Sounds good," you replied. And twenty minutes later, after you'd fixed your hair and put on the tiniest bit of makeup, you waltzed out into the living room where there were now six guys spread out on Jake's sectional couch with an open cooler of beer on ice in the middle of the floor and bags of chips seemingly everywhere. 
It was kind of fascinating, getting to catch a glimpse of this carefully curated world that he worked so hard to keep private. Your plan was to quietly sneak out the front door, but you had to stifle your laughter as you heard Bradley tell your boyfriend, "Your Cowboys look like a bunch of fucking pussies this week."
"You're one to talk, dipshit," Jake replied without missing a beat. "The Steelers are 2 and 4." He went back to sipping his beer.
"Both of you are delusional," Coyote told them as he cracked open a can and shoved a fistful of chips into his mouth. 
You skirted around the outside of the room as you eyed them in their various colorful jerseys while you thought they were completely focused on the game. Then you heard Fanboy call your name. "You're leaving?" he asked, looking at you as he ate some beef jerky.
"Yeah," you said with a little laugh as Jake got up to peck you on the cheek. "You know, Sundays are for the boys and all that."
Just then, the Cowboys scored a touchdown, and Jake hoisted you up in the air as you screeched in surprise. Half of the guys groaned, and half of them cheered, but your boyfriend held you tight as he tossed aside his empty beer can and said, "You can't leave until they kick the extra point." So you just stayed there, your feet not even touching the ground as Jake held his breath, and then the Cowboys went up by one more point. Then Jake walked you to your car, nipping at your neck the entire way.
"Don't you have to get back inside?" you whispered as he filthy kissed you, pressing you against the driver's side door. 
"I will," he grunted. "Feel like you're my lucky charm right now."
He kissed away all your lip gloss and messed up your makeup, but when you finally drove away, you had a smile on your face.
------------------------
"What are these things?" Reuben called from the kitchen. Jake turned to see what he was holding up.
"High Noons," he replied before focusing back on the game. "My girl's obsessed with them. It's like a fancy hard seltzer."
"Can I try one?"
"Yeah," Jake told him, knowing he'd just replace them later for you. 
Javy was currently sitting on the floor, practically in tears as the Saints gave up another touchdown to the Dolphins. Mickey's loud cheering had everyone else laughing. "Dude, you'll lose your voice again like last week," Bradley told him as he accidentally spilled potato chips all over the floor before picking them up and eating them anyway. 
"It'll be worth it if the Saints lose!" Mickey cheered. 
"Hey, what's that?" Bradley asked Reuben as he chugged the High Noon can and belched. "Some sort of girly shit?"
"Yeah, it's fucking good."
A minute later, everyone was drinking them, including Jake. "This is delicious," Bob muttered.
"For real," Reuben agreed. "Your girl has good taste."
Bradley snorted as he opened another can. "Not in guys." He and Reuben started cracking up at Jake's expense while he rolled his eyes. 
Then Javy was on his hands and knees crawling toward the TV and shouting, "Get him! Get him! That's a fucking sack! Fuck you, Fanboy! Fuck you, dude!"
The room was in chaos as Javy ground the potato chip crumbs into the carpet. When Jake's phone vibrated, he saw it was a text from you and realized he kind of wished you were here right now.
I miss you. Are you having fun with the boys?
He smiled as he checked the time. The Cowboys game would be starting in less than an hour, and they always seemed to play better whenever you were in the room for those fleeting few minutes before you left him to his Sunday tradition. He tapped his fingers on his thigh and contemplated texting you back. 
"Hey, Jake, are there any more of these things?" Bob asked, holding up his empty High Noon can. It was a testament to how good they tasted that Bob was even drinking one in the first place. He absolutely hated beer.
"I don't think so," Jake muttered, almost to himself as he read your text again. "Let me check." He started his response to you and then finished it after he looked in his nearly empty fridge.
I miss you too, Baby. Where did you get those High Noons? The boys drank them all, and they loved them. I'm going to need to stock up.
When he looked up from his phone, Javy was on his back, kicking his feet in the air, because the Dolphins had scored another touchdown. "No!"
"Hey, Hangman, you're out of chips," Bradley complained, shaking the empty bag into his open mouth before frowning. 
Now Mickey was dancing around Javy on the floor as the final score of the game flashed across the bottom of the screen. His Dolphins had beat Javy's Saints, and Reuben was already changing the channel for the next game that was about to start. But you had texted back again.
Why is that so adorable? I'm just about on my way home from lunch with the girls. Want me to stop and get another case or two? Maybe some snacks? I can drop them off.
Jake grinned; even the idea of you stopping by for a few seconds made him smile. He texted you back letting you know that he loved that idea, and then he stepped over the chaos on his floor and dropped down next to Reuben. Just as the intro to the Cowboys and Steelers was starting up, Jake said, "My girl's stopping by with more of those drinks and some snacks, so please behave while she's here."
"We will," they all replied in unison, though he highly doubted that would actually be the case. 
Then the game started, and they were all distracted, because it was Jake's team against Bradley's team. "Your precious Cowgirls are going down," Bradley muttered, practically licking the inside of the chip bag.
Jake realized he was hungry too as he flipped him off, and he could hear Reuben's stomach growling. The Cowboys were looking terrible in the first quarter, and now Bradley was sitting on the edge of his seat as the Steelers were poised to score a touchdown.
But then, just when you walked in carrying some fresh High Noons and a platter of hot wings, the Steelers threw an interception, and the Cowboys ran it back all the way for a touchdown. "Fuck yes!" Jake shouted, practically ripping the food and drinks out of your hands to get to you. "Come here, Baby. Come sit on my lap."
"Seriously?" you asked, clearly surprised as Jake pulled you along with him while the other guys tore into the seltzers and chicken wings like they were wild animals. Well, everyone except for Bradley who was on his knees on the floor, staring at the TV in shock.
"Thank you for the food and the High Noons," Jake drawled, grinning against your neck as he held you close. "You're the best." 
"You're welcome," you replied, really getting into the game now. "Cowboys are already up?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Bradley groaned. And it just kept getting better from there. Jake got to have you snuggled up on the couch with him while he ate wings and drank seltzers all afternoon. 
When you tried to leave at halftime, the guys whined for you to stay, and Jake pulled you closer to him. "Baby, no. The Cowboys have done nothing but get touchdown after touchdown since you got here. I need you to stay."
You laughed and opened a High Noon for yourself with an amused look on your face. "Alright, Jake. Whatever you need."
-----------------------
When you woke up on Sunday with Jake kissing your neck and whispering, "Time to get up," you groaned. You were still exhausted from working all week, but you stretched and slowly got out of bed. "Where are you going?" he asked, reaching for you as you stood and looked at him.
"Home?"
He shook his head like he couldn't be more confused. "Why? Baby, the Cowboys play at ten. The boys will be here soon."
"Yeah...." you replied, reaching for your clothes. "That's why I'm leaving. Sundays are for the boys."
Now he was honest to god pouting. "But, I don't want you to leave. I love watching the games with you, and the guys keep my place cleaner when you're here. They actually belch less too. Really, overall, they are much less insufferable. And besides..." he whispered, grabbing your hand and pulling you back into bed. "I think you're my lucky charm."
"Really?" you asked as he pinned your hands above your head on the pillow. 
"Mmhmm," he hummed as he kissed you. "You make my team do better, and you make me happy. Stay."
You were melting at his touch. "Well, how could I say no?"
The following week, Jake was opening a seltzer for you, and when you looked around, all of the guys were drinking them. Mickey tapped his can to yours. "These are delicious. I feel so sophisticated. You're a genius."
The week after that, Javy ordered pizza only after discreetly asking what your favorite topping was. "The rest of them would eat cardboard with red sauce on top of it, but I want to make sure you get the kind you like."
The week after that, Reuben and Bob both jumped up to get you a new can when yours was empty, and Bradley begrudgingly said, "I still like you even though Jake fucking ruined you by turning you into a Cowboys fan."
You started staying later and later, and you noticed that Jake filled the cooler with fewer beers and more seltzers each week. And on the last Sunday of the regular season, the guys showed up with a sad looking, half crumpled up gift bag and handed it to you as you rearranged the pretty charcuterie board you'd been working on for them. 
"What's this?" you asked, peeking into the bag at some pink fabric.
"It's for you," Javy said. "You're one of the guys now." 
Jake grinned at you from the open refrigerator where he handed out High Noon cans to everyone. "You knew about this?" you asked him as you reached into the bag and pulled out a pink Dallas Cowboys jersey with your own name on the back. 
"Of course I knew about it, Baby. I had to tell them your size."
"Thank you," you whispered as you looked at it, tears filling your eyes and blurring your vision. "I love it." When you looked up at them, they raised their seltzer cans in a toast to you, and you ran to Jake's bedroom to get changed.
You had your own jersey color now amongst the rainbow of teams everyone rooted for, and Jake kept you close as the Cowboys played. The cooler of slowly melting ice offered up High Noons to you and the boys, and by the time it was getting dark outside, you were standing next to the TV with your hands in the air. 
"Ready?" you asked them a little loudly as you giggled, but you weren't the only one who was tipsy and silly. "Here we go!" You led them in a hideous, off-key rendition of I've been waiting all day for Sunday night. After weeks of watching football, everyone had all of the ridiculous lyrics memorized, and it ended in laughter as you curled up next to Jake on the couch.
"I love Sundays," he said, his arm slung around your shoulders. "And I love you, Baby."
You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Sundays are for seltzer drinkers."
------------------------------
You slowly infiltrated, and now Sundays are yours. Thanks @thedroneranger for making pretty mood boards like this one and letting us write about them. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
Don't forget to read the second part! This Sunday Is for My Girl!
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@daggerspare-standingby
@je-suis-prest-rachel
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@whatislovevavy
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@mygyn
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honkytonk-hangman · 3 months
Text
When Jake Met Polly
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
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Summary: Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.
Warnings: Not much, fluff, flirting and refs to sex.
Note: This is just a short little idea i've had for agesss... reader has a 'name' but it's just her callsign, Polly, as in, short for Polaris. Ty to @hangmanssunnies i wuv u <3
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“Hangman to Tower, I am coming in hot.”
You roll your eyes at the all too familiar voice that crackles through your radio, a smile pulling at your lips as you adjust your microphone and briefly throw a glance over your shoulder, just to make sure your commanding officer wasn’t lingering.
“Tower to Hangman. We are appalled at the gross lack of radio etiquette on display,” you respond. Barely a few seconds pass before you receive a reply.
“Come on, Polly, we've been working together for over a year now, what’s a little informality between colleagues?” Hangman says, and despite his jet only being a blip on your horizon still, you know he’s grinning.
“A commercial airline, Lieutenant.” You deadpan, your own smile growing as his laughter comes down the line. “You are cleared for landing, proceed to runway B,” you continue, not wanting him to have to ask again seeing as his approach was cutting it close already.
“Polly, have I ever told you that you’re my favourite Controller?” He asks as you watch him enter the pattern, and click your pen.
“Only every day we work together, Lieutenant.” There’s a beat of quiet as he expertly manoeuvres his jet toward the correct runway.
“And how sexy your voice is?” He goes on, sounding vaguely distracted.
“Once again, Lieutenant, this is not a commercial airline.” You respond, twirling your hair around your finger at his compliment anyway.
He doesn’t reply, and a shock of horror flickers through you as you watch the jet touch down once, something happening with his landing gear that makes the jet shudder, then seem to bounce momentarily before it drops back onto the tarmac and skids to a stop.
“Hangman, do you require the emergency crew?!” You ask quickly, eyes scanning the aircraft as it powers down fully. You wait tensely as the canopy pops up, and a broad figure jumps out, scrambling down the ladder, and once on the ground, he bends low to get a look at the problem.
“No, Polly, thank you. Seems the landing gear malfunctioned, must’ve been in a position to sustain damage once I landed…” his voice trails off, and you watch him straighten, and greet the ground crew who’d raced over to help.
“Glad you’re safe, Lieutenant. Tower out.” You say as he begins discussing with the crew, but briefly turns up toward the tower and raises a hand.
You let out a sigh of relief and settle back in your seat.
Around lunch time you make your way down to the tarmac. Hangman’s jet had been cleared off some time ago, and by now you know reports would have been filed, including your own, and his aircraft will have been taken in for inspection and repairs. You’re milling around the ‘crash’ site, inspecting the scrape marks left behind when you hear footsteps from behind approaching you.
“Can I help you ma’am?”
You know his voice immediately, but you know his face too, and when you at last turn back to him you’re graced by the sight of it, bright and unworried, despite the accident he’d had earlier.
“Oh, don’t mind me! I just watched someone bounce their jet off my tarmac earlier, just checking for potholes,” you tell him wrly. It takes a moment, but his face flashes with recognition and soon he’s taking a step towards you.
“Polly?!” Hangman asks, sounding surprised. You hum in response, then round on him.
“Where is it that you found your qualifications, Liuetenant? We should probably return them,” you tease him. Hangman only takes up a stance and stretches his arms out, his flight suit stretching desperately around his biceps as he does.
“Oh, Polly, if I’d known that was all it took to get you down here, I’d have started chipping bits off months ago,” he flirts shamelessly. You smile at him but don’t speak and after a moment, he drops his arms again, crossing them over his chest instead and blinking at you curiously. “What?” he asks.
Your smile grows, and you shake your head at him.
“Your terrible lines work better when I can see you, that's all,” you inform him, making him uncross his arms and laugh.
“I would say that’s generally the case, even if a guy ain’t me,” he replies coolly. You only shake your head again, and look back out at the expanse of tarmac ahead of you.
“Thanks to you getting your pilots lisence off the back of a cereal box, we’ve ruined our Sleepless in Seattle thing,” you say with a forlorn sigh.
When you look back at Hangman he’s frowning at you in confusion.
“Our what?” he asks. You roll your eyes and turn to face him fully at last, waving your hand as you speak.
“You know, our Sleepless in Seattle thing. We talk all this time, but never meet, and if we cross paths, we don’t realise it? It’s ruined now,” you accuse him lightly. Hangman hums, and seems to think for a moment.
“I get to be Meg Ryan in this situation, right?” he says, making you chortle.
“Well you’d have to be. No way I’d leave 90s Bill Pullman!”
“Well, what if we’re not Sleepless in Seattle? What if we’re more… When Harry Met Sally?” he suggests. You squint at him.
“Have you seen that film? I’m not sure that’s the implication you want to go for…” you ask him, making him falter for a moment.
“That’s the one with the emails right?” he responds unsurely. You laugh again, and shake your head.
“No, that’s You’ve Got Mail.”
“What the hell did I just suggest, then?” 
You stare at him for a moment, and can’t stop yourself from grinning up at him.
“More or less not speaking for like ten years, but on the rare occasion we do meet up, we argue,” you tell him, watching him frown even deeper, and shake his own head this time.
“That would be kinda hard, considering you’re the voice in my head,” he says.
“Oh, so we’re doing Her now!”
Hangman fixes you with a deadpan expression and a slightly smirk.
“I don’t even want to know.”
You laugh at him, and begin walking, unsurprised when he immediately joins you, falling into step at your side. “So,” he begins again after a moment, peering down at you. “Despite playing hacky sack on your tarmac, you still gonna let me take you out?”
You falter briefly, but keep walking, this time glancing up at him.
“I didn’t think you were being serious all those times you asked me out,” you don’t bother hiding your surprise. Hangman looks back at you, squinting, and cocks his head.
“At this point I think you’ve shot me down more than Dagger combined, why would I not be serious?” he asks you, sounding oddly serious. You chuckle.
“Right, so, say if, I don’t know, Rooster got a few more hits on you, you wouldn’t leave me hangin’ would you?” you know you’ll say yes, but you can’t help but tease him a little longer.
Hangman raises an eyebrow at you and grins wide and beautiful.
“You? Never,” he says. “Mostly because I’m legally obligated to respond when you speak to me.”
You lift your own eyebrow and fix him with a wry smile.
“I like that in a man.”
Hangman laughs.
“I mean it, your voice is sexy,” Jake tells you once he’s sat back down from replacing your drinks. You can’t help but chortle and stir your cocktail with the straw.
“Really? Me telling you to line up and wait in the pattern gets you going?” you ask. Jake grins, but nods very seriously as he takes a short sip of his beer.
“Absolutely. I also like when you tell me about the weather and conditions, and direct me to land.”
Leaning forward with your elbows on the table between you, you put your chin in your hands.
“I liek when you flirt with me,” you begin, waiting for him to smirk at you before continuing on. “And you don’t realise my boss is in the room, so I just have to respond ‘roger’ and ‘acknowledged’ whenever you say something stupid,” you finish. Jake rolls his eyes and leans forward to meet you.
“To be fair, I’d probably be saying something stupid anyway,” he tells you.
You have to let out a laugh at that and finally lean back again.
“Oh yeah, that reminds me, are you ever gonna tell us all how to ‘bury a fossil’? You know, those things that you famously dig up and do not bury?” you tease, earning another eyeroll. Jake shrugs and copies your movements.
“I foretold Mav’s career comeback, didn’t I?”
You laugh again, but this time, get a good look at him sitting casually across from you, out of uniform and seemingly more relaxed than you’ve ever seen, or heard.
“I like your voice too,” you tell him at last, smiling a little at how he seems to preen at your praise. “Your accent is more pronounced face-to-face though, and you don’t sound like you’re performing all the time.”
Jake takes a sip of his beer and shrugs again.
“Can’t be Hangman all the time,” he says. You make a face.
“I like Hangman. He entertains me at work… but I think I like the guy who hasn’t seen When Harry Met Sally, and has a Fisher-Price pilot's lisence even more.”
Jake laughs and nods at you.
“Splash one,” he says before he leans in to you again. “Toddler’s generally have pretty good taste, in my opinion, they’re all about shapes and colours and boobs… can’t fault ‘em!”
You have to laugh and concede that at least, the two of you clinking drinks before you continue to flirt and chat for the rest of the evening.
When Jake drops you back at yours, you invite him inside, under the guise of lending him your DVD copy of When Harry Met Sally, but when he simply lingers in your living room, you start to consider other tactics.
“Jake?” you say, standing up from ‘searching’ your stack of DVD’s and facing him. “This is the part where you save me from admitting I don’t really own a physical copy of the film by having sex with me,” you inform him dutifully, watching as he straightens up and blinks at you. Then, he’s shaking his head, smiling, and taking a step closer toward you.
“I guess every good rom-com does have an earth shattering lie at its core, doesn’t it?” he steps closer, and this time, anchors his hands at your waist, tugging you into him a little more.
“Let's skip the conflict part and go straight to the happy ending, shall we?”
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tongue-like-a-razor · 6 months
Text
Brother's Best Friend - Part 9
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
A/N: I just wanted to let y'all know how much your enthusiasm and encouragement means to me. Your support, whether it's in the form of comments, reblogs, or asks, literally inspires me to keep writing and I just wanted to say thank you for your kind words! You guys seriously rock!
Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.
CW: Uhh.. you're gonna love it
WC: ~2500
Part 1 | Masterlist
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“What’re you up to tonight?” Jake asks casually, about five minutes after you’ve entered the kitchen.
You glance up from your still steeping tea hesitantly; you haven’t spoken to Jake since the pervious night at the club and you’ve all but resolved never to make eye contact with him again. “Uh,” you begin shakily, the stress of the situation resulting in a minor mental shutdown.
You watch as your brother tries on a third Hawaiian shirt and walks over to the mirror in the front hall to check himself out.
You gulp uneasily, your eyes meeting Jake’s as Bradley leaves the kitchen. “Just studying,” you finish, finally remembering your plans for the evening.
“Studying, huh?” Bradley calls from the foyer. A second later, he reemerges with a smirk on his face. “I know what that means.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and then shoots Jake a knowing grin.
Jake appears, at the very least, unimpressed with Bradley’s insinuation and, quite possibly, even critical of it. He gives him an irked look and proceeds to flip more aggressively through an old National Geographic magazine, one from the stack currently sitting on the living room coffee table. “You look like a douche in that shirt,” Jake grumbles.
Bradley’s eyebrows converge as he stares at his friend with a mixture of shock and disappointment. “Is that true?” he asks, turning to you for support as if you’re there to mediate.
You shrug. “I don’t think the shirt has anything to do with it,” you say.
Jake snorts out a laugh while Bradley’s mouth falls open in outrage. He looks between you and Jake and shakes his head. “That’s how it’s gonna be?”
“Maybe wear a t-shirt,” you suggest. “Borrow one of Jake’s.”
Jake gives you an amused look. “You think I’m just handing out band tees?”
Bradley narrows his eyes. “I feel like I’m missing something.”
“I just finished a load of laundry and I’ve got a Pantera shirt you can wear,” you continue, already smiling in anticipation of Jake’s reaction.
Jake lifts his eyebrows with a grin. “I thought that wasn’t appropriate dating attire. Too many skulls or some shit?”
Bradley places his hands on his hips and tilts his head suspiciously. “I…” he begins. “I have questions,” he concludes, still glancing between you and Jake. His knotted eyebrows indeed confirm just how perplexed he is. “But I’m already late. So, I guess douche shirt’s gonna have to do.” He grabs his jacket off the back of a kitchen chair and heads back out into the hall.
“Have fun!” Jake calls, leaning into the table so that his voice carries through to the front door.
“You sure you don’t want to come?” Bradley calls back. “We’ll be meeting up with her friends later tonight. They’re female.”
You roll your eyes, removing the tea bag from your mug. You look up to see that Jake’s gaze is trained on you.
“I’m good,” Jake calls back, finally breaking eye contact with you. He reverts his attention to the article before him detailing the mating rituals of various species of primates.
“See you tomorrow, then!” Bradley calls, and then the door shuts behind him.
A predictable, but still awkward, silence follows Bradley's departure. You finish preparing your tea while your heart batters relentlessly against your ribcage, daring you to say something – anything­ – about the previous night’s affairs. Naturally, you ignore this sensible impulse, starting for the staircase mutely after shooting Jake a quick, rigid smile.
Jake’s eyes follow you as you cross the room. “You got a date with ‘study group’ guy?” he asks pointedly, using air quotes to emphasize study group as though your evening is sure to consist of anything but that.
You pause, holding your mug close to your chest. “It’s not a date,” you say, although, at this point, you kind of wish that it were.
Jake raises his eyebrows like your response has only served to reinforce his skepticism. “Why do you even need to study?” he says with a cringe. “You’re already smart.”
You purse your lips to suppress a grin. “Funny,” you comment, continuing toward the stairs.
“I could help,” Jake offers.
You glance at him over your shoulder in surprise. “What?”
Jake closes the magazine and straightens his back. “I could help you study.”
You stare at him, trying to imagine how that might go down. “What do you know about psychology?” you ask, having already decided that, despite his noblest intentions, Jake’s assistance would be absolutely useless.
Jake scoffs. “I don’t need to know anything about it to help you cram for a test. You got flash cards?”
You give him a flat look. “It’s an oral exam.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Say what, now?”
You close your eyes and massage your temple irritably. “It’s worth fifty percent of my grade.”
Jake grimaces. “How good are you at oral?”
You let out an indignant cry, wishing you had something in your hands to throw at him other than a ceramic mug full of scalding liquid. “And this is why I’m studying with ‘study group’ guy,” you retort, stomping up the stairs.
“I’m joking!” Jake laughs, getting to his feet. “Come back!”
But you’re already on the second floor and you shut your bedroom door before he can say anything else.
Twenty minutes later, you return with your book bag, your empty mug, and a disparaging look on your face as Jake approaches the bottom of the stairs to greet you with a sheepish grin.
“Come on, Baby B,” he says as you set your bag down and glide by him with an eyeroll, heading for the sink. “It was a joke.” He follows you through the kitchen and leans into the counter as you start to wash your mug.
You bite into the inside of your cheek to keep a straight face. It’s not every day that Jake takes responsibility for his actions, and you’re sort of enjoying the groveling. “I’m not mad, I just think you’re an idiot.”
“See? I told you you’re smart,” Jake says.
You sigh, glancing up at him wearily. “Unfortunately, my extensive knowledge of Jake Seresin isn’t going to help me pass my midterm.”
“Shame,” he responds with a slight grin. “’Cause you’d ace that.”
You chuckle. “You think?”
Jake’s smile falters and he leans his back into the refrigerator. His eyes scan your face like he’s searching for something. You wonder if he’s finally going to address the elephant in the room, but he just exhales moodily and drops his gaze. “Well, have fun,” he mumbles to the floor.
You narrow your eyes and let out a somewhat resentful scoff. It’s just like Jake to lead a girl on, and you should have known that – after all, you’re apparently the leading expert on Jake Seresin. “Oh yes,” you say. “Studying’s a blast.”
Jake lifts his eyes solemnly. “Come on, you’re not that naïve.”
“What are you talking about?” you ask, picking your book bag back up.
Jake’s gaze slips briefly to your bare abdomen, framed by the hem of your crop top and the band of your baggy joggers. “This dude only wants one thing,” he says. “And it’s not to help you prepare for midterms.”
You let out a cackle and head out of the kitchen. “Seresin, please!” you exclaim. “Not every guy in the world is a total pig.”
“How many people are you meeting tonight?” he asks, trailing behind you.
You pause at the door before putting on your shoes. “He couldn’t get a hold of anyone else,” you respond innocently, trying not to cringe at the – now that you think about it – ridiculous excuse ‘study group’ guy has given you.
“Right,” Jake mutters, taking the bag off your shoulder when you bend down to put on your sneakers.
You stand back up and your eyes meet his for a moment. He looks like he’s got more to say but you have a feeling he isn’t going to say it. “I can handle myself,” you reassure him.
Jake watches you with a dubious expression. “As long as you know what you’re walking into,” he says.
You laugh, taking a step back to ease some of the tension that’s got your back muscles seizing up. “And even if he does have an ulterior motive – which I seriously doubt – would it really be so terrible?”
Jake doesn’t seem as amused at this prospect as you. “It would be manipulative,” he responds levelly.
You shrug nonchalantly. “I don’t think it’s a big deal.”
He squints slightly and you feel like he’s judging your answer. “I thought you needed to study.”
“I do!” you respond defensively. “And I’m not going with the intention of engaging in any…” you pause, thinking of a way to put what you’re about to say more delicately. “… other activities,” you finish with a minor wince. “But, if an opportunity happens to present itself –”
Jake raises his eyebrows. “An opportunity,” he echoes in the same disapproving tone.
“What, like you’ve never taken advantage of an opportunity.”
Jake juts out his jaw in a sulking manner, pondering over your allegation without disputing it. He looks a fair bit guilty but that may very well be your personal interpretation. Finally, he reaches for the door and opens it resignedly. “Call me if you need me,” he says.
You sigh, standing in front of the open door. “You don’t have any plans?” you ask, almost cautiously because you probably don’t want to know the answer.
Jake purses his lips and shakes his head.
This gives you pause, but you try not to let the defeated look on his face sway you. You aren’t sure what he stands to gain from this particular transaction, but you doubt his motive for offering to help is entirely altruistic.
Perhaps he’s gunning for a clean slate. Trying to be a friend. Trying to eclipse recent, reprehensible behavior with an act of goodwill. Maybe he’s worried that you’re mad, or that he might lose you.
The fact of the matter is, you could speculate till the cows come home, but you won’t know unless you ask. So, in a move not even you could have predicted, you do just that. “Why would you even want to waste your evening studying?” you probe.
Jake tilts his head to the side and squints his eyes at you in confusion. “Just tryin’ to help,” he responds.
You look down at your feet uncomfortably and shrug, but continue prodding, nonetheless. “I mean, you could be out with my brother.” What you really want to say is that he could be hooking up with a new chick within the hour if he feels like it; it wouldn’t even be a challenge.
“Didn’t wanna crash his date.”
You glance up at him sharply, wondering if that is, indeed, the only reason he chose to stay behind. His eyes slide slowly over your face as though he’s trying to guess what you’re going to say next. You gulp uneasily; being scrutinized by the guy of your dreams is hardly an enjoyable pastime. At the same time, it’s wildly thrilling to have his undivided attention. “No other reason?” you ask with a slight break in your voice, your throat decidedly too dry to pose any further questions.
Jake glances pointedly at the open door he's still holding and then back at you. He doesn’t respond, nor does he inquire why you’ve still not left. Instead, he starts to slowly close the door, his eyes boring into yours so intently you think the weight of his gaze might vaporize you.
You feel a warmth wash over you – no; a heat. It’s a distressingly abrupt sensation, like you’ve been shoved into an oven set to broil. But it’s nothing new. You’ve experienced this kind of nauseating high before and you’re just as unamused with this bodily reaction now as you’ve been in the past.
Jake stands very still, his back to the door he’s just shut, stalling. And despite the very persistent voice in the back of your head telling you he can’t possibly be interested in pursuing anything remotely romantic with his best friend’s little sister, the hesitation on his face is telling quite a different tale. Jake is torn.
You can relate. You’ve been simultaneously longing for and avoiding direct contact with him for ages. “You, uh” – you take a shallow breath and nervously lick your lips. “You think I’ll get more studying done if I stay?” you ask faintly.
Jake watches you carefully, as though he’s giving himself a minute to consider your question. He takes a step toward you, lowering his face to maintain eye contact. And, while his expression remains mostly impassive, you swear that you notice a brief flicker of exhilaration pass over his features right before he says, “I can’t promise that.”
You stare at him, frozen in place as he takes your chin in his hand and lifts it ever so slightly, as if he knows that you’re in no condition to elevate it on your own. Then, just as you’re about to say something completely irrelevant to fill the silence, Jake’s lips pass softly over yours.
And that’s when you come entirely apart. Your book bag crashes to the floor as your arm drops limply at your side. Your legs vibrate feebly, fighting to keep you standing. But you ignore the – indeed concerning – widespread weakness sweeping through your body. Because the only matter worth attending to is Jake’s hand as it slides purposely down to your throat, his thumb curling around as though he means to choke you.
Admittedly, you’d let him.
But his fingers don’t commit to a firm grasp by any means, instead, they glide up and down, intermittently applying a gentle pressure to your neck as his tongue curves boldly into your open mouth.
Jake Seresin is kissing you.
In a way that no one’s ever kissed you before. In a way that rattles you. Because it’s hungry and unreserved. Because it’s dangerously intimate. Because it’s Jake Seresin.
He’s kissing you like he already knows just how you like to be kissed. Or… the way you like to be kissed just happens to be the way he kisses. He’s had plenty of practice, after all.
Whatever the case may be, there’s a fire at the tip of every one of his fingers, and it follows the length of your collarbone in their wake. There’s a spark in the friction of every touch, at every point of contact.
It’s in the sweet burn of your bottom lip when he catches it between his teeth. It’s in the way he nudges your face with the tip of his nose in between kisses. It’s in his eyes when he finally releases your lips and meets your gaze; it’s in the silence.
You swallow, looking up at him anxiously, unsure how it’s even possible that you’re still standing. Jake is watching you with an unsettling blend of affection and alarm. He sighs finally and tugs on your elbow, pulling you in to rest his forehead over yours. “Fuck,” he mutters, closing his eyes and releasing a heavy – and noticeably unsteady – breath. “Your brother’s gonna kill me.”
Read Part 10
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