#told him to wait in the coyote but he wasn't coming back

[make-me-imagine]

Torture

Plot: Rooster makes a bet with Y/n that if he can beat Hangman's flight time on a new training course, he gets a kiss. Y/n agrees, but this means no kisses for Rooster until he wins.

Requested Prompt: "You owe me a kiss." Requested By: Anonymous

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x GN!Reader *Reader is referenced of having the call sign 'Caelus' (Roman God of the sky)

Warnings: Kissing, if that wasn't obvious from the description lol

Words: 1.3k

-

Your eyes glanced over the other pilots as they ran past, completing their workouts for the evening. You silently thanked yourself for having worked out earlier in the day rather than now after a long day of flying.

Hearing the padding of footsteps coming from behind you, you assumed it was just another student on a run, until you felt large arms wrap around your waist suddenly.

You let out a gasp as you were lifted off the ground, followed by a familiar laugh.

You held in a laugh as you groaned out "Put me down Bradley!"

As you were placed not so softly back down, you were spun around and pulled into Bradley's chest. He grinned down at you with a dopey smile that you couldn't help but smile at in return.

"Hey sunshine." He said softly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Still smiling, you pushed him away with a fake grimace "Ugh, So sweaty!"

He let out a soft laugh "Oh come on, it's not that bad."

You let out a soft giggle as he pulled you towards him again, his arm slung over yours shoulders. As you began waling towards the barracks, you wrapped your arm around his back.

"I hope you're going to the showers."

"I just happen to be, why, wanna come with?"

"You wish."

"Yes, I very much do." He replied quickly with a smile as he looked down at you and wiggled his eyebrows playfully. You rolled your eyes, but let out a soft giggle.

"Hey Rooster, Caelus!" You and Bradley both looked over as Coyote ran past "You hear that Hangman beat the record on the new training course?"

"What time did he get?!" Bradley called out.

"Three fourteen!" Coyote yelled back as he continued running.

You looked up and saw Roosters contemplative face. Looking down at you he nodded lightly "I can beat that, easy."

You squeezed his side "Sure you can big guy."

He looked down at you with a face akin to offence "You don't think I can?"

You let out a soft laugh "I know you could. And, I know you are going to try your hardest, but, not because you want to get a good time, but just because you want to beat Hangman."

"Yeah, and whats wrong with that?"

"You get flustered when you get competitive."

"So,I make mistakes?"

"I did not say that!"

He smiled teasingly before he nodded "I bet you, I can beat him."

Reaching the barracks you stopped at the door "Oh we're betting now are we?"

"Oh yeah." He took a step closer and leaned down a bit "I bet you a kiss I can beat him."

You shook your head as you smiled at him "And if you don't beat him?"

"You get to say I told you so."

You hummed "Nah, not good enough."

"Okay, I'll buy you dinner."

You let out a dramatic gasp as you placed your hand on your chest "He knows me!"

He chuckled as he stepped closer, pulling you towards him "So we got a deal?"

You eyed him, before an idea popped into your head. "Okay, you got a deal." You gently pushed him away "Now go shower before you attract the wildlife."

He let out a small bark of laughter "Okay, okay."

Before he left, he started pulling you closer again, leaning in for a kiss. Lifting up your hand you placed it on his lips, stopping him.

You saw his eyes dart from your hand to your eyes, his brow furrowing. Stepping away from him you repressed a grin, pulling open the door behind you.

"Sorry Roost, but no kiss until you win the bet."

You saw his lips start to curl into a smile before he paused and his face dropped. "Wait, seriously?"

As you stepped inside and let the door go you nodded "Seriously"

Seeing the look of offense and shock cross his face just as the door shut between you, you were unable to hold back the laugh that bubbled up. 'That should motivate him' you thought to yourself as you headed towards your quarters.

--- --- ---

You sat with Phoenix, Coyote, Hangman and a couple other students in the training room, eyes on the screen at the front of the room as Bradley began to start the training course.

You had gone earlier in the day, getting three minutes twenty three seconds, and scoring third in the class so far, only two seconds slower than Phoenix. You hoped for Bradley's sake you'd be fourth at the end of his turn, and that he'd be first.

Glancing over at Hangman, you saw a cocky grin on his face. Looking over, he locked eyes with you and winked. You rolled your eyes before looking back at the screen. You hoped Bradley would wipe that smug look off his face.

More than way through the course, you were hopeful, and Hangman was clearly nervous. Bradley was already three seconds ahead of Hangman's time, but you knew he could lose that lead quickly.

"Come on Brad." You whispered to yourself.

Another minute later and your cheering, Phoenix is clapping beside you, both of you relishing in the angry look on Hangman's face, as the time on the screen read three minutes and ten seconds.

"He got lucky." Hangman offered as he began to leave.

"If that's what helps you get to sleep at night Bagman." You said over your shoulder as you headed out the doors to meet Bradley.

As you walked across the tarmac, you could see the grin on Bradley's face from a mile away as he came out of the hangar. He spread out his arms before he spun around in celebration. You let out a soft laugh as you bowed jokingly.

"Now was I good or was I great?!" He called out.

You smiled and nodded your head, allowing him to gloat "You were great." He grinned as he stopped in front of you "I just wish you could have seen the look on Hangman's face when you beat his time."

He groaned "Oh God I bet that was great."

"His ego definitely took a hit."

"Eh, he'll shake it off, unfortunately." A grin spread across his face. "Now, if I am correct, which I know I am. You owe me a kiss. Actually, scratch that, you owe me four."

"Oh do I now?"

He nodded "Yeah you do. Since you decided no kisses until I won the bet. Last night, no good night kiss, that's one. This morning, no good morning kiss, that's two. Before I flew the course? No good luck kiss, that's three. And now, number four because I beat the course. And I think four works great, seeing as that's how many seconds-"

You let out a laugh before you leaned up quickly, grabbing his face and pressing a kiss to his lips. You felt him freeze for a second before he melted into the kiss. Pulling away you giggled softly as his soft eyes gazed at you.

His lips curled into a bright smile "It was torture not kissing you, you know."

You smiled up at him, your hands still holding his face "Was it?"

He nodded "Absolute torture. I live off those kisses."

"Then I'm sorry I deprived you of them."

He nodded "You should be."

Pulling his face down lightly, you kissed him again. His hands gently grabbed your waist, and as you pulled away he softly hummed. "Two."

Another kiss, this time his arms wrapped fully around you as he pulled you closer. When you pulled away he kept his forehead pressed against your own as he brought his hand up, caressing your face "Three." He muttered.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed again, the fourth owed kiss. He squeezed you closer as he deepened the kiss, briefly lifting your feet of the ground as he did so.

Finally pulling away, a little breathless, he cupped your face. "I love you sunshine."

"And I love you Bradley." Pressing another quick kiss to his lips before pulling away from him, you smiled "That one was for free."

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

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[writeforfandoms]

Vicious

Find my CoD masterlist

Looking to expand your territory, you find a military group in more or less the middle of nowhere, and spend a few days observing them. Of course, things are never easy, and soon you find yourself a permanent guest of one Commander Graves.

Coyote shifter f!reader x Phillip Graves

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, piv sex, teasing, biting, dirty talk, blood, injury, gunshot, emotional slow burn, enemies to lovers, eventual happy ending. PoV does shift.

Everybody thank @sprout-fics for literally plotting this out with me I don't even know how long ago. Thanks for infecting me with the Graves brainrot, love.

Word count: 11.5k (might wanna go grab a drink)

You approached the base with caution. You'd circled around the base for a few days before deciding to approach. You wanted to know what this was since it was in your territory. Well. Sort of. It was kind of right on the edge of your territory, but since there was a very rude pack of wolves pushing on your territory, you were looking to expand. 

Thus, investigating. 

The base was big and mostly flat, several buildings set up. You could vaguely see a hanger in the distance. Hmm. Interesting. 

Trotting along, you lifted your nose to sniff the air. Lots of scents - men and gunpowder and oil. Hmm. Not terrible, but not great. 

Maybe you should look elsewhere to expand.

There was a thunderous crack and a line of fire erupted across your back. You yelped, scrambling away, even as warm wetness seeped into your fur. You bolted, ignoring the pain, ignoring the blood. You needed to get somewhere safe to shift back and get medical attention. Or at least hide until you healed. 

If the wolves found you like this, they'd kill you. 

You made it away from the shooter, getting as far as an abandoned-looking building before you collapsed. Your legs gave out with a wobble and you whined softly to yourself. Your back hurt, a solid line of fire that pulsed steadily with your heart. 

That was probably bad. You must have gotten hurt worse than you thought. 

Jaws parted as you panted, you debated your options. You could try to sleep here, you could try to get somewhere safer, or you could shift back. 

Even the thought of shifting made you hurt, and you laid your head down. 

You needed medical attention. And liquids. And rest. 

But rest would have to come first, because your body refused to cooperate with you otherwise. 

As much as you knew it wasn't safe here, as much as you longed to get back to your own den… you closed your eyes. 

Just a nap. Just enough rest to get you back on your feet to get home. 

–

Graves had had a good day. Drills had gone well. One of his boys had shot at a coyote. All was well. He'd even authorized a couple boys to go find the coyote and put it out of its misery. 

The last thing he expected was to see those two boys come back with a woman bundled between them, passed out cold and wrapped in one of their jackets. Her legs were bare beneath the jacket. 

"What the fuck?" He muttered to himself, standing up straighter. 

"Found her out in the middle o' nowhere," one of them said, flagging Graves down. "She's bleeding." 

Graves frowned. Bleeding, unconscious, left in the middle of nowhere? Sounded like she'd run into some trouble. 

"Bring her to medical," Graves ordered, already striding over to pull the door open for them. "And for fuck's sake find her some clothes." He held the door for the two and his gaze dipped down to what he could see of her. Mmm. Nice legs. Nice ass, too. 

He resisted the urge to follow them to medical, trusting that they'd get her there. Instead he went to start on the necessary paperwork. 

Medical paged him once she was cleaned up and dressed, and he told them to alert him as soon as she woke. Fingerprints hadn't gotten any pings yet, which was a good thing. 

But still. He needed answers. 

Graves huffed softly and leaned back in his chair. Nothing he could do about her for now but wait. 

–

You woke slowly, warm and not sure why that felt wrong. Not at first. Then the smell registered. 

This was not home.

You sat up quickly and then groaned softly, clenching your teeth. Oh, ouch. Your back fucking hurt. 

"Oh good, you're awake." 

You jerked your head to look at the door, eyes wide. A good-looking man stood there, eyes raking over you. He looked military - the way he stood, the cut of his clothes, the subtle bulge of a gun tucked in the back of his waistband. Oh fuck. 

"How you feelin'?" His voice was mild as he grabbed a chair, pulling it over closer to your bed. 

"Back hurts," you answered carefully. "Where am I?" 

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, which remained cool. "Medical. I have a few questions for you." 

You noted he didn't ask if you were up for it. Clearly this man was used to getting his way. You swallowed. His scent wafted to you, warm and a little spicy and far too alluring. "Okay." 

"Do you know where my boys found you?" 

You narrowed your eyes a little, thinking. Right. You'd been shot and ran away, and had collapsed outside that abandoned building. "Sort of?"

"Do you remember how you got there?" His gaze was more intense now and he leaned forward. 

You had two options here that you could see. Make up some lie, or lie and say you didn't remember. 

"I… don't remember." You swallowed hard, shifting your weight. Your back hurt and tugged a little. "What happened to my back?"

"Nice long scratch. Had to put in some stitches to keep your skin together." He didn't even flinch at the description. Not that you did either. You'd spent enough time as a coyote to see your fair share of blood. 

"Thank you." You forced yourself to meet his gaze. His eyes were pretty. Alluring. Dammit. 

"You're welcome." His smile was all arrogance now. "I'd appreciate some information in return." 

"Like what?" Your gaze darted to the door nervously. This was bad. This was very bad. You needed to get out. 

"Where were you before this? How did you get hurt?" 

"I don't remember." You eyed him now carefully. You were injured, but maybe you could get the drop on him…

"Well. That's a damn shame, darlin'." He pushed to his feet, gaze fixed on you. "I'm afraid I need some answers before you can go." 

"You can't keep me," you immediately retorted, twisting to face him. "That's not legal." 

His smile turned condescending. "And who's gonna stop me?" He spread his hands out from his body, still smirking. 

You tensed, gauging, and then lunged at him. You couldn't shift, not here. But maybe you wouldn't need to. You slammed into him, pain lighting up your back, and tried to shove past him. He recovered fast, faster than you expected, grabbing you and hauling you back to him. You growled, low and angry, and bit his shoulder. Hard. 

He shouted, jerking under your teeth. But he didn't let you go. Just yanked your wrists behind your back, securing them with one hand before using his free hand to get a grip on your hair and yank. 

"Feisty, huh?" His grin showed far too many teeth. Even for a human that was a clear threat. "'S alright, sweet pea. I've got time. I'll have you singing before long." 

You whined when he tugged your hair again, forcing your head back, exposing your throat. He held you easily, not even breaking a sweat as he kept you contained. 

You'd miscalculated. Badly. 

The room he escorted you to was plain and not comfortable. Little more than a concrete box with a cot bolted down, the room lacked any warmth. 

"I'll give you some time to think about your answers," he told you before he pushed you into the room. You stumbled, off balance from the shove, and the door slammed shut. 

The lock clicked, loud and ominous in the room. 

You had really, really miscalculated. 

–

Graves walked back to his room before checking the bite, which was already blooming color on his skin. "Fuck," he muttered, half impressed and a little turned on. "Helluva bite." He sucked his teeth, fingers rising to press gently to his skin. The little bloom of pain made him groan softly, arousal rising. Damn but he liked that. 

He wanted to tame this one. 

"Damn, sweet pea," he muttered, pressing down again, ignoring the blood rushing down to his cock. For now. "Damn." 

–

You were brought food regularly, so at least they weren't starving you. That would be bad, on top of your injury. 

And the asshole came back at least once a day to ask you the same questions. What happened to you? Where had you been? How did you end up out here? Who hurt you? 

You, at least, stuck to your line. You didn't know. That was all he was getting out of you. Nothing else. 

You didn't try to bite him again. At least, not for the first few days. 

Then he got mean. 

"Y'know, sweet pea, I could make this so much nicer for you," he murmured. "Or so much worse. I've been generous, you know." 

"You call this generous?" You curled your upper lip, hands curling into loose fists. 

"Coulda left you to my boys." His smirk was downright nasty now, eyes glinting with mean amusement. "I'm sure they'd appreciate you." 

You stiffened, a low growl rumbling in your chest. Excitement sparked through his scent and his lips stretched wider. "Don't you fucking dare." 

"Then gimme what I want," he purred, leaning closer. "Or a good reason not to." 

You lunged. He was prepared this time, though you still got your teeth in his shoulder before he grabbed you and twisted. You yipped, startled, as he manhandled you face-down on the cot, pressed up tight to your back to keep you down. 

The hardness pressing into your ass made you jerk. 

"Told you," he growled into your ear, breath hot against your skin. "Give me a good reason not to." 

"Fuck off," you snarled, trying to buck him off, ignoring the hardness of him. 

"Rather fuck you." His teeth were sharp on your ear. 

You snarled, deep and rumbly, squirming under him. But you couldn't deny the thrill of arousal at how he held you down. He was strong. Very strong. 

"Fuck," he muttered, pressing his hips harder into yours. "Better hold still, sweet pea, unless you think you can take me." 

"I dunno, you think you can handle me?" You couldn't resist taunting him, baring your teeth. 

He huffed a little laugh and shoved one knee between your legs, leaning his weight onto you. "Oh I can handle you, sweet pea." He shifted, biting down on the back of your shoulder. You moaned, almost startled at how much you liked that, how good it felt. "Yeah? Pretty girl likes it a bit rough?" 

"You all mouth?" You shot back, managing to free one hand. You reached back to claw at him, not sure if you wanted him closer or wanted him off of you. 

He swore softly when your nails caught skin under the sleeve of his shirt, dragging down. "Feisty pretty girl," he growled. He grabbed your wrist again and shoved it back down to the bed, pushing you harder into the mattress, his chest to your back. One hand let up, but he compensated, keeping you trapped under him. "Guess you don't wanna get fucked tonight." His free hand slid slowly down your side to your hip, and he pulled you back and down onto his thigh. 

You gasped at the feel of his thigh firm between your legs, fanning your arousal. You squirmed, hands twisting, tilting your face to the side. "Mm, feels like you're all teasing and no follow through." 

"Good girls ask nicely." He lifted his hips away from yours, using his grip on you to push you further into the bed, away from the warmth of him. 

You snarled into the bedding, twisting harder. But he didn't budge, didn't give you an inch. He was absolutely infuriating. 

But he was also possibly going to fuck you, and you possibly wanted him to. 

"I don't do nice." You kicked out with one leg, and he grunted as you pushed him off balance enough to have him crashing back into you. You could admit to yourself that though he was an ass, you wanted more. 

"You will, sweet pea," he grunted, fingers tightening around you. "You'll beg me for it." He rocked his hips into yours and you arched, no longer trying to get him away or get him off. No. Now you wanted more. 

When he pulled back again, your lips parted in a snarl, and you almost asked what he was doing. 

Except you felt fingers at your back, pushing the shirt they'd given you up until it bunched under your arms. His fingers were warm and a little rough as they slid along the path of your injury, just to the side so he didn't actually hurt you. The nurse had insisted on leaving the bandages for another day, although you didn't really need them - you healed faster than a human. 

"One day you'll tell me," he murmured, low and promising. "And I'll be here for all your secrets." 

A shudder ran down your spine and you squirmed. "Keep it up and I'll think you're actually interested in me," you quipped. You needed his attention off your back, needed him to leave it alone. 

"Oh but I am," he purred, lowering himself again so you could feel the press of his shirt against your back, the flat plane of his stomach leaving you nowhere to go. "You're just too temptin', sweet pea. I can't resist." 

You sucked in a breath when he bit down on the back of your shoulder again, a little gentler this time. But the feeling of teeth in your skin, even with the shirt in the way, only made you want more. You bucked into him, struggling, a low whine escaping without permission. 

"Sound so sweet like that," he murmured, too pleased with himself. "Let's see what other pretty noises you can make for me." 

"Arrogant," you shot back, wiggling your ass back against the bulge of him. 

"Confident," he corrected, grinding into you. "Now, you gonna be a good girl if I let go?" 

"Define good." You grinned into the sheets, hiking one knee up to get leverage to push back into him. He only pressed you harder into the cot, pulling a groan out of you. 

"Guess that's a no," he huffed, nosing the side of your neck. "Shame. I'd love to take my time with a pretty thing like you." 

"Sure know how to make a girl feel special." You squirmed again, trying again to free your hands. 

"Baby, I'll make you feel so good," he promised, low and crooning. You shuddered hard, twisting one hand free and reaching back to pull his head closer, fingers scratching through his hair. He huffed against your neck, warm and damp. "Still gotta ask for it." 

You gritted your teeth, digging your nails into the back of his neck. "Make me." 

He groaned softly, pressing his bulge harder into you. He was a flurry of movement, pushing your shirt up over your head but leaving it tangled around your arms. "Such a little brat," he growled, teasing. "I can fix that." 

"Such an ass," you gasped as he yanked your sweatpants down, leaving them pooled on one ankle. 

"All you gotta do is ask, baby," he murmured, hand smoothing over your ask. "I'll fuck you real good if you ask." 

"Not on your life." You whined softly when his hand dipped down between your legs, teasing, testing. 

"Oh yeah?" He huffed an amused noise. "We'll see about that, sweet pea." One big finger slid into you and you gasped, legs shifting further apart to give him more room. "Knew you liked this," he muttered victoriously, his finger making a lewd noise as he moved it. "Fuckin' knew it." 

You opened your mouth to snipe back at him and ended up moaning instead at the stretch of a second finger. “Fucking tease,” you managed, tilting your hips to allow him deeper. 

He huffed. “Already told you what you have to do,” he murmured, pumping his fingers faster. The coil of pleasure in your belly grew tighter, and you rocked your hips back into his fingers. Not yet willing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you. But the scent of his arousal, his clear enjoyment of this, was near dizzying. 

You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood as you got close, eyes shuttered, determined not to give him satisfaction while getting your own. 

And his fingers slipped out of you. 

“What–?” You started to demand, pushing hard against him. 

“Told you,” he said, amused now, even as you heard his belt buckle clink. “Gotta ask, baby.” He nipped the shell of your ear and then groaned softly. There was a soft, wet noise. 

Your eyes blew wide and you froze. He was stroking himself, slow and rhythmic, his knuckles just brushing your ass. He was just going to leave you like this. 

Unless you asked. 

You clenched your jaw for a moment before you gave in with a little whimper, tilting your hips and ducking your head down against the cot. “Please,” you murmured. 

“What was that, sweet pea?” He sounded unbearably smug, even as he brushed his knuckles over your skin a little more firmly. 

“Please,” you repeated, pressing your forehead into the cot. The smell of him was intoxicating and a little addicting and utterly ruining your composure. 

He hummed, teasing, and the noise stopped. Still-damp fingers pressed to your ass and then curled around your hip, guiding you into a better position. “Please what?” 

You growled a little, debating kicking him off and taking care of yourself. But damn he’d gotten you riled up, and now you wanted him. “Please fuck me,” you ground out, tone far from pleading. 

But that must have been good enough for him. “Good girl,” he cooed, condescending and overly-sweet. You fought down the urge to bite him again, mostly because you could feel him beginning to press into you. 

He did not go slow, and he was not gentle. Which was fine - you didn’t want gentle. You didn’t want slow. You wanted him to fuck you hard enough that you saw stars. 

He was relentless, searching for your g-spot and then hitting it as often as possible. He released your hands to fist your hair, tugging your head to the side so he could kiss and nip at your neck. His groans vibrated against your skin, making you whimper. 

“Yeah? Feel good?” He nipped sharply at your skin and soothed the spot with his tongue. “Tell me, sweet pea.”

You resisted. For a moment. “Feels good,” you agreed with a gasp, getting one hand behind you to scratch through his hair, keeping him exactly where he was. “More.”

“More what?” The words were growled into your skin, his grip tightening on your hip until you thought you’d have bruises. 

“Need more,” you gasped, bucking your hips back into his. “Please.”

“Knew you could be so good for me,” he crooned, far too pleased. But he did move his hand to rub your clit, not giving you a chance to mouth off to him again. 

“Fuck!” Your fingers scrabbled at the sheets and fisted in them, shaking a little. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear now. “Come on, baby. Come for me. Come on, come on, baby.” 

Later, you’d be humiliated, but you did. You came with a shout, body tensing under his, hand in his hair clawing down the back of his neck. He hissed, shuddering hard against you, and roughly pumped into you a few more times before he spilled in you. 

“That’s it,” he murmured, almost dazed sounding. “Fuck you feel good.” He ground against you, probably just to hear you whine. 

He didn’t quite collapse on you, but it was close. Fortunately, you got to just melt into the cot, breathing hard. 

“Have fun, sweet pea?” He slid out of you smoothly and stood, fixing his clothing. You kind of hated him for that, even as you turned your head to glower at him over your shoulder. 

“Still an asshole,” you grumbled, stretching out. You needed to move, to wipe yourself off. But you couldn’t resist the moment of tormenting him with the sight of you on display. 

He chuckled, undeterred. “Better rest up, sweet pea,” he advised, smirk clear in his tone. “I’ll be back later.” 

The door locked behind him as always. 

Fine. You’d just bide your time. Someone would slip up eventually. 

It took another week. A week of acting more compliant, of not trying anything. Graves didn’t come back for that entire week, either. Why, you didn’t know, but you weren’t going to ask. 

Finally, the soldier that brought you food forgot to lock the door. 

You waited until you couldn’t hear him anymore before you crept to the door, cracking it open just the tiniest bit. Nothing. No sound near you. 

You had to sternly remind yourself not to just go tearing off, you had to do this smart. So you snuck out of your room, shutting the door again. Hopefully that would keep them from looking. 

Getting out of there was perhaps one of the most stressful things you’d ever done. You listened hard for people, and once had to duck into a cleaning closet to avoid a couple chatting soldiers. Your heart pounded against your ribs the entire time, so loud you had to focus to hear past the blood rushing through you. 

But you did it. You made it outside. The sun was setting, the land open around the base. You’d blend better if you shifted, and you’d be faster. 

A quick look around showed you were the only one in sight. Moving fast, you nearly threw your clothes off and shifted, landing on four paws. 

This was so much better. 

You left the clothes where they fell and started trotting off, away from base. You were more careful this time, darting between bushes and generally being stealthy. 

So when something tackled you from the side, you yelped, totally caught off guard. You struggled until a firm hand grabbed your scruff, holding tight and lifting you a little. You whined and went still. 

“Well, well, well,” Graves murmured, smirking down at you. “I’ll be damned.” 

You lifted your upper lip to growl at him, hoping he’d take the hint and back off. Instead, he fearlessly wrapped his free hand around your muzzle. 

“You’ve already bitten me before, sweet pea,” he said, looking over you again, awed and not at all scared. “Not gonna let you with bigger teeth.” 

You stared at him, fear a cold wash down your spine. You realized with perfect clarity in that moment that not only had he put together exactly what you were, but he was never going to let you go. 

Graves carried you back to your room, shutting the door behind the two of you before he released you. You skittered away, putting some distance between the two of you. “Go on, sweet pea. Show me.”

You were momentarily confused, ears twitching as you looked at him. But he didn’t move, didn’t step away. 

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he teased, smirking like the bastard he was. “Already seen all of you before.”

Understanding dawned, and you briefly pinned your ears back. But if there was one thing you knew about Graves, you knew that he was stubborn. 

So you shifted back. 

“There you are.” He grinned, wide and satisfied and distinctly smug. “Quite a trick you got there, sweet pea.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest, glowering at him. “Why did you grab me again?” 

“Can’t let such a fascinating little thing run off now can I?” He finally took a step closer to you, gaze fixed on your face. 

You clenched your jaw. “Sure you can, it’s easy.”

He chuckled, taking another step closer, until he was just outside your space. “Oh sweet pea, told you I’d be here for all your secrets, and I meant it.”

You swallowed, not sure how to react to that. He held all the power here, and you both knew it. But you didn’t want to yield, didn’t want to bare your neck to him. So you bared your teeth instead. 

“Mm, that too,” he purred, not at all deterred. On the contrary, he reached for you with one hand, licking his lips. 

You took a step back, eyeing him. “Do I get any say in this?” 

“I’m not a monster,” he told you amicably, allowing you some space. 

“No. You’ll just keep me here.” 

He shrugged. “You know too much,” he said easily. “And knowing what you are? I’d be a fool not to use all advantages I can get, and I ain’t a fool.” 

You puffed out a breath. “I think you overestimate how much I know.” 

He smirked. “Perhaps.” He took a step back finally. “Tell you what, sweet pea. You behave and I’ll get you a nicer room to stay in.” He didn’t give you a chance to answer (or object), just turned and left, locking the door again. 

You groaned softly and fell back on the cot. Well. Fuck. That had gone the opposite of how you’d wanted. Now not only were you stuck here, but Graves knew what you were. 

Hopefully he wouldn’t try to do anything awful. 

Graves visited you every day for the next several days. He never asked for anything. Just seemed to be enjoying the power he held over you. Sometimes the visits were short, mere minutes, more check ins than anything else. Sometimes he’d stay for longer, chatting, slowly getting to know you.

As you were getting to know him.

You didn’t pretend to understand his interest in you, but you didn’t exactly discourage him, either. You only snapped playfully at him. You didn’t try to kill him. You also didn’t spend more than a day or two feeling sorry for yourself and being sullen and mopey.

Coyotes were adaptable creatures. It’s how they’d become one of the most successful predators in North America.

So you adapted. 

“Brought you a little somethin’.” Graves was in a particularly good mood tonight, eyes bright, smirk firmly in place. 

“Oh?” You didn’t even bother to get up, staying seated with your back to the wall, book still in your lap. (He’d finally caved the fourth time you’d threatened to die of boredom.) 

He crouched in front of you, holding out a bracelet. It was simple metal beads, though just from looking at it you guessed not all of them were so simple. He looked far too smug, putting you a little on edge. 

“This has got a tracker in it,” he told you, letting it dangle from one finger, swinging gently and catching the light. “And a couple little surprises. Gimme your wrist.”

You huffed softly but held out one arm for him, watching him fasten it on you. “And what stops me from just taking it off?” 

“One of the surprises.” He smirked, thumb rubbing the soft underside of your wrist, pressing briefly against your pulse. “You can test it, but I wouldn’t recommend it, sweet pea.”

Curiosity warred with caution, and caution won. You puffed out a breath. “Alright, so you can, presumably, track all the time I spend sitting here reading. Wow. Fascinating.” 

He just grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that was absolutely not endearing. At all. Not even a little. “Well, I was thinking you could come on a walk with me.”

“Seriously? Not yanking my chain?” You raised both eyebrows at him. 

“Seriously.” He stood straight again, using his hold on you to tug you up with him. “C’mon. Lemme show you around properly.” 

Curiosity won out over caution, this time. You followed him. 

The base was larger than you’d initially guessed. Graves kept you close to his side as the two of you walked, which didn’t stop you from looking around. Several of his men saw the two of you, but none of them approached. Hm. Fine with you. 

Graves probably enjoyed showing off the base a little too much, although you realized he was also showing you off with a hand on your lower back. Conniving man.

You could respect that. Especially if he was less of an ass. 

“Wanna go explore?” 

You side-eyed him at the offer, and especially at the grin he shot your way. “Eager to see if your little gift works as promised?” you drawled. 

“Nah. You’re not a fool.” His eyes gleamed as he watched you.

You huffed softly, amused despite yourself. “Well, you’re not wrong.” Not giving him a chance to retort, you walked away. You heard his chuckle behind you, but he didn’t follow. 

Exploring by yourself was… interesting. But not in the way you expected. The men looked at you, yes, but none of them approached you. One or two even stepped out of your way. 

Very interesting. They were not exactly a pack, humans didn’t work that way, but they clearly had their own pecking order. 

You made your way towards the fence, looking up at the guard posts. Considering the way the land stretched out flat before you for miles, the base sticking up like a sore thumb, you were both surprised and not. Only one actual road in and out of this place, and you didn’t bother going towards that gate.

Instead you started towards the nearest guard post, determined to get up the ladder and see the view. 

“Uh, ma’am, you can’t go up there.” 

You looked at the young man in front of you - not as tall as Graves, definitely younger, a little uncertain. Adorable. He looked more like a pup than a man. 

“Graves told me to explore,” you drawled, dry as dust. “I’m exploring.” 

“You still can’t go up there.” He pulled back his shoulders, trying to intimidate you. Aw. Cute. His radio crackled, and very faintly you could hear Graves on the other end. Just his voice, not what he said. But the soldier nodded once and stepped aside. “He said it’s okay.”

“Thanks.” You kept your tone dry and purposefully made noise going up the ladder. The guard on duty glanced at you but didn’t say a word, allowing you to take your fill of the view. 

This area had been your home for a long time. Sure, not here exactly, but, well… You’d been wanting to expand your territory anyway, hadn’t you? This wasn’t a bad expansion. Especially if you could convince Graves to let you go hunting properly. 

You could come to see this as home. In time. 

Coyotes were adaptable. This would not break you. 

Graves’ hand at your back didn’t even startle you this time. You’d heard him coming, after all. 

You’d ask him about hunting some other time. No need to push too fast, after all. 

You had time to win him over. 

–

Graves was pleased - the tracker worked exactly as it should. And you behaved perfectly, exploring, poking your nose places. All without even trying to leave. 

He’d gentle you to him yet. 

Eventually, he’d be able to move you into his room. But not yet. 

For now, he contented himself with dinner with you, watching your barely restrained curiosity. He didn’t quite chuckle to see that curiosity mirrored in his men, but it was a close call. 

"Enjoying, sweet pea?" 

You scoffed softly. "Yes, well, meals in my room were rather dull." Your teeth flashed in a grin. 

He chuckled. “Don’t have to do that anymore,” he offered, watching you. “Long as you behave.”

You tipped your head, and he could see the predatory gleam in your eyes. But you nodded once. 

He’d definitely be keeping an eye on you. Not that he minded - you were a pretty little thing, after all. 

Maybe he’d get his hands on you after dinner. 

–

Days passed faster now that you were no longer confined to your room. Graves let you have free roam of the compound - nothing was off limits to you. 

Which is how you stumbled upon a training exercise. 

Graves beckoned you to join him without looking away, arms crossed loosely over his chest as he watched two teams with paintball guns attempting to get each other out. 

"Training?" You guessed, stopping next to him, observing the game closely. 

"Mmhm." He didn't look at you but his hand settled just above your ass, thumb stroking gently. "Paintballs only." 

You nodded. "Just trying to tag each other out?"

"Timed game," Graves told you with a flicker of a grin. "Team with most people left standing when the timer goes off wins. My boys are competitive." 

You hummed acknowledgement, watching them dart around. It looked like this entire section of compound was open - the terrain and buildings were all being used in the game. 

When the timer went off, Graves took you with him to see who had won. You only half paid attention, admittedly, busy examining the ones who'd been counted as out. 

"Looks like somethin's on your mind, sweet pea." Graves smirked down at you. 

"Let me play."

He blinked. That was clearly not what he'd expected you to say. "What?"

"Let me play." You bounced a little on your toes. "It looks like fun." 

Graves blinked, giving you a quick once-over over. You were smaller than most of his men, and untrained. But he knew your secret. "Alright, but don't cry when you get out first." 

You grinned, showing far too many teeth. "No tears," you promised, low and silky. 

It took no time to get outfitted with a vest and a paintball gun. Graves even graciously gave you a one minute head start. 

You darted away, finding a good hiding spot. Your aim was not the best, and you usually did your hunting with your teeth, but you'd make do. 

A timer went off, signaling the rest of the teams were being released onto the playing field. Graves hadn't actually told you which team you were on…

Guess that meant everyone was fair game. 

Your teeth showed in a grin as anticipation raced through your veins. Finally. A hunt. 

The first pair you spotted were clearly on the same team and patrolling together. You waited until they passed and got both of them in the back. (One shot went totally wild, but you elected to ignore that.) 

They both looked surprised to see who had shot them but moved off the playing field. 

After that, you slunk away to another good hiding spot. This time you managed to get four - another patrol of two, then a single man a few minutes later, and another single man passing close enough for you to get him. 

Your smaller stature served you well, letting you get into smaller spaces than they could. And you knew how to hunt, to wait, to be still and focused. 

By the time you'd gotten your tenth "kill", your heart was thrumming, easy confidence in your eyes. 

But you paused when a PA system flicked on with a crackle. 

"Change of plans, boys," Graves called. "First man to take her down gets a prize." 

Fuck! That wasn't the game! But you had to admit… the change thrilled you. 

Teeth showing in a grin again, you abandoned your current spot to climb. You needed to get up higher to see what you were up against. 

Roughly ten men remained, some having been knocked out by other teams. You could briefly see them as they split up. 

Good. Make this a real challenge. 

But you had one advantage they didn't. You could hear them coming. 

That was your only saving grace as one tried to corner you. You could hear him coming, and escaped around a corner before climbing to get away. 

He swore extensively when you managed to shoot him. 

Two of them got smart and tried to flush you towards a third. It might have worked, except that you spotted him up ahead, and threw yourself through a bush to get away. 

Unfortunately, that only worked until one of them got physical, tackling you to the ground. Your yelp was more surprise than pain, and you had to resist the urge to bite him. 

Graves would not be pleased if you made his men bleed.

"Caught, sir." The man who'd tackled you hauled you to your feet, and you narrowed your eyes at him. You were no misbehaving pup to scruff! 

Graves sauntered up to the two of you, smirking. "Well, well, well," he hummed. "You did better than I expected." 

You smirked right back at him. "Next time, you will not be so surprised." 

He laughed once, short and amused. "True," he agreed. "Now, for your reward."

The man released you and you turned to see who was left. Only eight. (Either you'd miscounted or there had been a bit of foul play among the remaining players.) You memorized their faces. 

You'd take them out first next time. 

You didn't bother to pay attention until Graves had a hand at your back, guiding you forward again. The training seemed to be over, as most everyone was putting away their gear. 

Graves didn't lead you back to put away your gear, though. He handed off the paintball gun to one of his men and pushed you back towards your room. 

Fully aware of what you were starting, you bit him for being pushy, growling low in your throat. He just swore, hands clenching around you, and bit you back. 

Honestly, you were a little amazed the two of you made it back to your room before the clothes came off. 

–

Graves had never expected you to do so well at paintball, but you did. You were light and fast, hard to hit when you were on the run, and clever. Not trained, but clever. 

He threw you in the paintball games as often as he could, now, just for the joy of watching you. 

And the fun afterwards. 

Finally, though, they got called out. He debated bringing you with, but… there was no easy way to explain your presence, and he wouldn't risk your life. 

You'd just have to stay and be good. 

You took the news better than expected, honestly. Only a little growling and biting. (And Graves really, really didn't mind the biting.) 

But then you did something very unexpected. 

You saw him off. 

You stopped in front of the group, eyeing them all. Graves noted with amusement how they all straightened - you'd gained a lot of respect by joining in training. 

"I expect I'll see you all again soon." The look you leveled at all of them made it clear that was an order, not a suggestion. 

The various noises of assent just made Graves hide his grin. 

You nodded once and looked at him, one eyebrow raised. But you did lower your voice, at least. "Bring me back something sweet." You winked and walked away. 

From this angle, it was easy to see that you were a predator, stalking through his base as confidently as if it were your own. 

Graves tried hard not to think about that too much, because if he did, he'd have to haul you back and fuck you on the plane. 

–

You kept yourself busy while Graves was gone. There were still people on base, so you weren’t alone. You thought briefly about going hunting, but you didn’t want to distract Graves at a potentially vital moment. 

So, you kept yourself entertained by poking your nose into every nook and cranny you could find. 

That lasted you a few days. Watching several movies lasted you a few more. And finally, just when you thought you’d risk giving Graves a heart attack just to go for a proper run, they returned. 

You did not rush them as they all disembarked the plane, standing back with your arms crossed over your chest. Some of them were injured as they got off the plane, but they were all back. You counted. Twice. 

And then there was Graves, directing his men, making sure everything got done. You met his gaze across the distance and couldn’t help but smile, just a little.

There was no sense of challenge in meeting his gaze. No fear. Just the visual confirmation that this asshole hadn’t gotten himself killed. 

He finished up quickly and made his way over to you, swagger uninterrupted, gaze fixed on you. 

He surprised you, though, grabbing your hand instead of your wrist to tow you back to his room. His, not yours. Not that he gave you time to look at much before he was kissing you like he was affirming he was alive. 

It wasn’t until much later, after you both lay sated and warm, that he grunted like he’d just remembered something.

“Brought you back something,” he murmured, moving away from you and ignoring your displeased huff. Not bothering to put any clothes on yet (something you very much agreed with), he stepped over to his duffel bag and bent over to grab a box. He smirked at you over his shoulder. “Close your eyes.”

“What?” You blinked at him, caught off guard.

“You heard me, sweet pea.”

You rolled your eyes pointedly and then closed them. This was silly. But you were willing to play along, for now. 

To your surprise, you heard the box open, heard Graves step closer. “Smell,” he ordered softly. 

You sniffed, head tipping in curiosity. You could smell the sugar, absolutely, and something floral. You huffed softly, amused at the little game. 

“Sugared flowers?” you guessed without opening your eyes, leaning a little closer. 

Graves chuckled softly, and the box rustled as he did something. “Open,” he murmured. 

You briefly made a face but you did as he asked. He put a single piece on your tongue, fingers brushing your skin as he retreated. The flavor was more intense than the smell, and you hummed in satisfaction, eyes fluttering open again. Graves licked his lips, watching you as he pulled another piece of sugared flower from the box. This time, you accepted it and sucked on his fingers, swiping your tongue over the tips to get every last bit of sugar from his skin. The scent of his arousal quickly overpowered the florals, and the box dropped to the pillow next to you. 

Somehow you both missed dinner. 

–

Graves had been considering how to tell his men about his coyote. Oh, sure, they all knew that you were his, but they didn’t know you were a shifter. And that could become dangerous, if he didn’t tell them. In case of emergency.

(The fact that he wanted to tell them had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that he wanted to show you off more. Not at all.) 

His timeline got pushed when you let yourself into his office, near bouncing on your toes. 

“I’m going hunting,” you said before he could ask. 

Graves leaned back slowly, giving you a thorough once-over. “Need to borrow some gear?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes, clearly exasperated. “No. I’m going hunting.” You showed your teeth to emphasize your point. 

Ah. That kind of hunting. “Alright,” he agreed slowly. He knew you still had the tracking bracelet on, and he had to admit some curiosity to see how well it held up after you shifted. “I’ll make sure nobody shoots at you.”

“Again,” you drawled. 

Graves didn’t feel bad about that, because nobody had known about shifters at that point. Besides, it was hard to feel bad about the thing that had brought you to him. But he would make damn sure you weren’t injured under his watch. “You shifting here or out there?” 

“Here,” you answered after a moment. “Easier to not deal with clothes.” 

Graves nodded again, still watching you. “Good hunting, then, sweet pea.”

Your teeth flashed again as you grinned. “I’ll bring you back something good.” And you were gone, bouncing back out of his office before he had a chance to properly respond to your words. 

You’d promised to bring him something back.

This was something new, and Graves was going to find out what that was about. 

His boys didn’t take the news about you being a shifter quietly, but they took it. He could see they didn’t believe him yet, but they would.

And they all knew he was a man of his word. So they knew he was not exaggerating when he threatened to kill anyone who breathed a word of this to anyone else. 

But Graves trusted his boys. He trusted they wouldn’t betray him. Or you, by extension. 

The day was mostly gone by the time he heard the commotion. The call to open the gate came first, then a chorus of whistling and clapping. That was enough to pull him outside to see what the commotion was all about. 

A coyote was dragging a whole ass white tail deer into the compound, jaw clamped tight around its throat. Graves felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise - the deer was considerably bigger than the coyote, but the coyote didn’t even slow down. 

Until you stopped in front of him, depositing your trophy and looking up at him. 

“Beautiful,” he murmured. Both the deer and you. “Dragged it back by yourself?”

You huffed at him, briefly showing your teeth.

“Course you did,” Graves chuckled, crouching in front of you. He debated for a moment before he held out one hand. It took only a moment before you shoved your head under his hand, and he stroked your fur, silently thrilled. His coyote. “Gonna let one of my guys fix it up?”

You stepped back and lifted your lip in a silent warning. 

Graves chuckled, holding his hands up in a pacifying manner. “Alright, sweet pea. You just let me know what you need, then, and I’ll let you handle it.”

Mollified, you grabbed the deer again and started dragging it away from the buildings, which he appreciated. He watched you maneuver your kill around without assistance, admiring your strength and determination. His men all kept out of the way, though he did hear a few compliment you on your kill. 

This was something he could get used to. 

–

You honestly hadn’t realized how much you missed shifting until you could, anywhere you wanted. The men got used to you quickly, opening the gate for you to come and go as you pleased. An unofficial new game had popped up - try to pet the coyote. You took great joy in evading their hands and occasional playful tackles. Honestly, it was fun. 

You didn’t expect to be approached by one of the men on his own while you were sitting outside. You blinked at him, head tipping to one side. 

“Do you have a moment?” He shuffled his feet a little, scent caught between shame and embarrassment. 

“Have a seat.” You turned a little to face him fully, on high alert now. 

He sat next to you, giving you a moment to find his name patch. Roberts. His sandy hair was nearly the same color as Graves’, though he was shorter and leaner. Roberts sighed softly before he looked at you, meeting your gaze. “I wanted to apologize.”

You blinked, caught totally by surprise. “For?”

“I shot you.” He made a vague motion towards your back. “I mean, I didn’t know it was you, I just shot at a coyote. But still.”

You shook your head with a little smile. “Don’t fuss over it,” you advised. “It’s long in the past now, and I healed.” 

He frowned at you, disapproving. “Anyway, a few of us were out last week, and, well…” He rolled up his sleeve to show off a still healing tattoo. A coyote in front of the Shadows symbol. 

He had simultaneously claimed you as pack, and put himself under you. And he’d sort of spoken for the rest of the Shadows, too. 

At least, your coyote brain was trying to convince you that you now had the biggest pack ever to protect and provide for. 

You grabbed him, pulling him into a hug and rubbing your cheek over the top of his head. He held himself stiff for a few long moments before he awkwardly patted your back, looking absolutely bewildered when you pulled back. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, breathing in deep. “That’s… it means more than you know.” 

He smiled tentatively and nodded. “Sure,” he mumbled. “So, not mad at me?”

You huffed a little laugh. “Not at all.” You shook your head, gaze drifting down to the tattoo again. “May I?”

He held his arm out for inspection, and you looked over the line work and the details of it. That was definitely a coyote, and definitely the insignia of the group. 

Well. Your pack had just grown. Quite a bit.

“I love it.” You sat back and smiled. 

He puffed up a little, clearly proud of himself. “Did the line art myself.”

“Good to know.” You smiled slowly. “I might ask you to do something for me at some point, then.”

“Would be my pleasure.” He puffed up even more, resembling a fluffy rooster. “Anyway. Just wanted to show you that.”

“Appreciated.” You nodded to him and watched him go, still puffed up with pride. You, on the other hand, were wrestling with your instincts to provide for your pack. 

Dammit. Fine. You’d make a couple loaves of bread, that would satisfy the itch for now. 

The bread was a huge success. As were the next four loaves. (Graves grumbled about sending a few men for supplies, because apparently the demand for fresh bread was quite high.) 

You didn’t expect to see more of the tattoos. But you did. 

Over the next two weeks, nearly a dozen of them approached you, usually individually, to show off their own tats. Most of them got the tat on a forearm, but one got his on his back, and one got it on his calf. You couldn’t help it - you hugged every one of them. 

You never would have predicted this would happen when you’d been shot those months ago. 

“You’re not tired of that damn thing yet?” Graves asked, clearly grumbling, after the most recent soldier had jogged off again. 

“The tat?” You grinned, looking back down at your bread dough. “Nah. I like it. Might get one for myself.” 

Graves grumbled wordlessly, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your middle, teeth digging into the back of your shoulder through your shirt. “Won’t find one on me.”

“No?” Your breath hitched at the brief pain of his bite. This had become a habit between the two of you. “Too bad. I was thinking of offering an exchange.” 

“Exchange?” His head peeked up over your shoulder. “Of what?” 

You hid your smile, amused. “Marks,” you said blandly. “Thought you might like the idea of me wearing something of yours on my skin.” 

The quickly-stifled groan against the skin of your neck proved you right, and your smile turned victorious. “Not that,” he mumbled, lips moving against your skin, making you shiver. “Something unique.” 

You hummed softly, poking the dough one more time before tossing a towel over it to let it rise. “Well…” You trailed off, taunting, leaving the bait for him to take or ignore. 

He, of course, took the bait. “Well?” 

“Family tradition is a bite,” you mused, pushing your hips back into his. “But I don’t think that will work here. Don’t think you want a big scar.” You smirked teasingly back at him. 

“Could just get it tattooed,” he pointed out, hands settling on your hips, pulling you back into him. 

“Get a tattoo of your teeth marks?” You could feel the way he responded to that, an involuntary little jerk of his hips. “I could wear that, easy.” 

“Yeah? Wanna show off that you’re mine?” Graves tightened his grip on you, scraping his teeth lightly on the skin behind your ear. 

“More like have a permanent reminder,” you mumbled, tipping your head. “Pack already knows I’m yours, and you’re mine.” 

He bit down on the back of your neck with a groan, hands nearly fumbling as he rucked your clothes up and out of the way to get at your skin. 

It took only a few days to make the arrangements for your corresponding marks.

–

Graves normally didn't mind Shepherd. He was a demanding ass sometimes, but overall not bad.

Until right this very moment. 

"Didn't catch that, sir," Graves ground out, working hard to keep his temper. He didn't want to go flying off the handle, not now. 

"Don't play coy with me, son," Shepherd said, firm and a little condescending. "I know you've got a shifter there." 

"Don't know what you mean." Graves dug the nails on his free hand into his skin, the pain helping ground him and keep him from doing something monumentally stupid. 

"No? Then the coyote shifter isn't yours? She's a pretty thing, figured she's your type." The smirk in the general's voice was clear. 

Graves didn't respond, torn between demanding to know how Shepherd knew about her, and denying her existence. 

"I'll have a couple of my men there in a few days to bring her in."

"Bring her in?" Graves repeated, sharp and serious. 

"I'm taking her. She could be a valuable asset to me." 

Graves hit his limit. That? Was unacceptable. "No, sir."

Shepherd paused for a moment. "No?" 

"No. She stays here." Graves knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if he handed you over to Shepherd, you’d never be seen again. The general was a merciless man. He’d break you, or dissect you. Or possibly both. And that was something Graves found he couldn’t live with. 

Shepherd let the silence grow between them before he snorted softly. "You sure you wanna do this?" He asked, soft and threatening. 

“I am.” Graves clenched his jaw. He was willing to let a lot of shit slide, hell, he’d done a lot of shit himself. But this? No. He’d never admit it aloud, but he was too attached to you. 

He’d never hand you over to anyone. But especially not Shepherd. 

“This won’t end well for you,” Shepherd promised. And hung up, not giving Graves a chance to respond.

Graves breathed out slowly, putting his phone down. He knew Shepherd, knew the general wouldn’t give up so easily. 

This would come down to a fight. One he was determined not to lose. 

Graves started planning. 

–

When Graves first insisted you learn how to use a gun, you rolled your eyes. Why did you need a gun? You had teeth. But he didn’t let up, going so far as to ask while balls deep inside of you, holding you still under his weight and refusing to move until you gave in. That earned him a few days of nasty looks.

But you did learn.

The worst part about it for you was the noise. Even with the headset to muffle the sound, it was jarring and took some getting used to. 

You noticed the changes on base slowly. The guards seemed more alert, constantly watching the horizon. One of the Shadows was always nearby, though they always made it seem coincidental. Graves held you tighter at night (he’d moved you into his room shortly after you both got tattooed). 

But any time you tried to ask, Graves evaded. Stricter training. Upcoming op. Refreshing their skills. All were excuses he tried. 

You didn’t quite believe any of them. 

But he clearly didn’t want you to know, so you didn’t push. You just grew restless, often walking the perimeter of base. 

He was keeping something from you and you wanted to know what. 

None of the Shadows would tell you. Apparently Graves had given them orders not to, because when you cornered one younger man he outright panicked, gaze darting all over the place, hands shaking. You left him with a snarl of discontent, stalking away. 

Not that you had to wait long, after all. 

A shout went up from one of the guards that night, well after dark. You could hear radios going off around base too, just caught a few words: vehicles, armed, Shepherd. 

You had very little idea what it meant, but the way the rec room emptied hinted that it was nothing good. 

“Come with me,” Graves demanded, hand fastening around your wrist. 

“What–?” You didn’t get a chance to finish your question as he pulled you along with him. He got a vest on you first, then handed you the rifle you’d been practicing with and ammo. 

“Stay with me, sweet pea,” he ordered. And it was very clearly an order. “Okay?” 

“Okay,” you agreed, confused but rapidly realizing how serious this was. 

Graves got his own gear on with practiced motions, clicking his comm. “How far out?” he asked briskly. You could just hear the voice on the other end, but not the words. “Copy.” Graves started moving, and you stuck close to him. 

Outside the building was nearly unrecognizable. Shadows were running around prepping, putting up barriers and hides. Graves strode through the organized chaos, right up to the gate. 

You could see vehicles approaching, four of them. The rumble of engines grew steadily louder, though the gates remained closed. 

The vehicles stopped, people piling out of them, guns down for the moment. You didn’t recognize any of them. Not that that was truly a surprise - you knew few humans. 

“Graves,” one of them called in the kind of tone of one used to being obeyed. “Last chance to hand her over.” 

Graves clenched his jaw and didn’t look back at you, though you realized with sudden startling clarity that this was all about you. Because somehow that man out there knew you were a shifter. 

And Graves had apparently refused to hand you over.

It was an interesting feeling, warmth suffusing you from Graves’s actions while dread tried to remind you of how very bad this could be. 

“Not a chance, Shepherd,” Graves called back. He nudged you back just a little, hands gripping his gun securely. 

“I’m sorry it came to this. If you hadn’t been such a fool…” Shepherd trailed off. 

You only had a moment to wonder what he meant before the shooting started. You ducked back behind cover, Graves right behind you. 

“I want them all dead,” Graves said into his comm, eyes utterly cold. You realized with a start you hadn’t seen him like this since the very beginning of your stay here. “Let’s get it done.” 

You were not ashamed to admit that you were not much help. You didn’t have the experience of these men, and this was not a fun game of paintballs. Besides, your movements were restricted to keeping with Graves. 

But you did surprise yourself when you spotted one attempting to flank around the barriers, and you shot him. He fell silently. 

For a bare moment, you wondered if you should feel bad. Not that you did - you’d killed your fair share of prey before. But prey had never been human before.

Then again, humans had never attempted to infiltrate your territory nor threatened your pack before. Not like this. 

“Good shot, sweet pea,” Graves said, speaking up over the din around you. 

You had just enough time to see his faint grin before the world exploded around you. 

You blinked at the dirt under you, ears ringing, head aching. Hands grabbed you and you growled, disoriented, at least until you heard the familiar sounds of your pack shouting. Pulling you back, away from danger. Presumably. Your hearing was still fucked, and you couldn’t smell anything through the gunpowder and smoke. 

One of them fell with a shout, something you just barely heard. You stumbled as his support vanished, falling to your knees. The other Shadow tried to haul you to your feet before he was shoved away, much harsher hands grabbing you. You yelped, the sound too canine to come from a human throat, still disoriented enough that you couldn’t properly resist. 

You almost got your feet under you, except a harsh yank from one of the two pulling you along sent you right back off-balance. You swore, clumsily grabbing for something to hold on to. Your hearing was coming back, slower than you liked but enough. 

They were dragging you off base. To Shepherd. 

If they got you that far, Graves wouldn’t be able to get you back. 

You twisted hard, managing to get a hand on one of them. He tried to yank you off balance, muttering curses. 

But you took advantage of the bare skin of his wrist that you could see and lunged, jaw locking and teeth clamping into his skin. The hot taste of blood filled your mouth but you refused to let go, even as one of them hit you in the back, hard. 

It wasn’t until you heard two gunshots, closer than expected, followed by the dead weight of the soldier dragging both of you down that you released your grip. You spat blood out of your mouth, swaying a little. 

“Sweet pea!” Graves hit the ground next to you, one hand immediately going to your cheek. Blood matted down his hair on his right side, and he seemed to be favoring that side in general, right arm kept tight to his side. Shadows surrounded the two of you, keeping Shepherd’s forces back. 

“I’m okay,” you managed, still a little dizzy. But you latched on to Graves’s vest, because he was right there and comforting. 

Graves let out a relieved sigh, giving you a quick visual once-over. His thumb smeared the blood on your chin. 

“Not mine,” you reminded him, paying no mind to the two bodies around you now. 

He nodded, tugging you closer. “Marry me.”

“What?” You blinked at him rapidly, sure you’d misheard him.

But he grinned, bright and a little mischievous, totally disregarding the active battlefield you were on. “Marry me.”

“Let’s finish this first,” you pointed out, lips twitching in response to his humor. “Kill Shepherd first. And then I expect a proper proposal.”

“Anything you want.” He pressed a hard kiss to your lips, uncaring of the blood, before he got to his feet. You followed him, swaying only for a moment before you caught your balance. 

Shepherd’s force had been decimated, only four remaining, huddled behind the protection of the armored vehicles. One tried to put down his weapon and back away from the fight, only for Shepherd to turn on him and shoot him. 

“You can end this,” Graves yelled to Shepherd in open mockery of Shepherd’s earlier offer. “Nobody else has to die.”

Shepherd didn’t respond, gaze flitting between the Shadows and Graves and you. “You really think you can get away with this?” he asked, voice absolutely venomous. “I’m a general!”

“Shouldn’t have tried to take my coyote, then.” Graves backed up, gently pushing you back as well. You were confused for a moment, trying to figure out what the plan was. There was no way he was just letting Shepherd live, was he? 

The Shadows all swarmed back behind cover, still keeping you surrounded. Something rolled under the vehicle Shepherd hid behind, and the whole thing blew up. You ducked a little, reflexively, before popping back up with wide eyes to watch. The other vehicles were also quickly destroyed. 

You followed Graves over to check the bodies. All dead. You tipped your head, looking down at Shepherd, silently wondering if he’d really been willing to die to get his hands on you. 

“Let’s clean up this mess,” Graves ordered, and Shadows immediately jumped to obey. But grief hid in his eyes as he looked at his base. You leaned into him, silently offering support. You’d help count the losses. 

“You still owe me a proper answer,” Graves murmured, his hand settling low on your back. 

“You still owe me a proper proposal.” You smiled, leaning harder into him. “Even though you’re already mine.”

He huffed. “Bold of you,” he mumbled, head dipping closer to yours. “I like it.”

“You always have.” You smirked, tipping your head enough to bare your teeth at him and watch as his pupils dilated. 

“Trouble.” But Graves just grinned at you. 

–

The base was a mess. Graves helped as much as he could, contacted families and next of kin as necessary. 

The general was disposed of quietly, their trail covered. His Shadows wouldn’t face the fallout of this. 

You held up better than Graves had expected, supporting his men when needed, doing whatever you could to help with cleanup and disposal. Honestly, he was impressed. 

He also hadn’t forgotten his promise to you. 

Once he was sure the danger had passed, he made some arrangements. Flight plans, necessary permits, a few phone calls. Everything was set and arranged exactly how he wanted. 

He had basically everything. The last thing was something he needed to pick up himself. He snuck out while you were hunting, knowing you’d more than likely pout but he’d be back soon. 

“How do you feel about goin’ on a little trip, sweet pea?” He asked a few days later, so as not to arouse suspicion. 

You shrugged from your place in his lap, idly watching a few of the younger Shadows playing a video game. “Never done much of it,” you admitted easily. “Never had a chance.”

He hummed, one hand squeezing your hip gently. “You interested?” 

“Sure, if you want.” You shot him a little smile over your shoulder, relaxed still. That told Graves everything he needed to know.

He didn’t quite pick out your clothes for you, but he did insist on a few things. Like something nice to wear. (And if he snuck in a brand new set of lingerie for you, well, he liked seeing you in pretty things.) 

You didn’t like the plane trip, that much was obvious. Tension pulled your shoulders tight, and it took you a long time to get comfortable and settle down. Graves kept one hand on you to help where he could, and was finally rewarded when you fell asleep against his shoulder. 

Watching your awe looking around somewhere new warmed him in unexpected ways. (Maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. He did ask you to marry him, after all.) 

He gave the two of you three days to adjust to the timezone change and do some touristy things. Not that he much cared - he’d been all over the world by now. People were people everywhere. But giving you this experience? So much better. 

You eyed the Eiffel tower with distrust when he led you to it, and he couldn’t help but smirk. 

“Don’t worry, sweet pea,” he drawled, extra sweet. “You’ll be fine.”

You immediately scowled at him (just as he’d hoped) and stalked up to the lifts. He followed a little more leisurely, knowing everything was taken care of. 

He caught your expression as the sun set, the wind whipping against the two of you, the city sounds all but gone. You looked awed again, hands gripping the railing as you looked over the city. Graves smiled, pleased with his timing, and settled next to you for a minute, just letting you look your fill. The softer light on your skin filled him with a kind of warmth he’d never thought he’d experience. 

“Hey, sweet pea. Got a question for you.” 

You turned to him and blinked, totally unsuspecting. Graves took a knee in front of you, pulling the ring box out of his pocket, and your eyes went wide, one hand flying up to your mouth. 

“I promised I’d do this proper,” he murmured, looking up at you, blind to everything else. (There were at least two of his Shadows in the crowd, you were safe, that’s all he cared about.) “Never thought I’d be here, but you’ve been a surprise from the beginning. I want you to keep surprising me, sweet pea. Will you marry me?”

You nodded and then huffed a soft almost-laugh. “Yes,” you managed, hands settling on his cheeks before you kissed him. The crowd around the two of you clapped, a few whistles coming from his boys. Graves grinned at you, honestly ridiculously happy, and slid the ring on your finger. 

Standing there with you in his arms, the stars slowly emerging even as his boys put on a hell of a fireworks show for the two of them, Graves knew one thing for certain. 

He’d gentled his coyote, but you’d gentled him every bit as much. And he was just fine with that. 

#shifter au #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x you #f!reader

[hangmanssunnies]

Double Tap

House We Share: Double Tap, Sfumato, Good Comes In 3

Summary: You were hesitant when your friends told you about their other friend who needed a roommate. Living with a man, let alone a Naval aviator, isn't your ideal living situation. However, you are desperate to get out of your current house. So, you will have to suck it up and make a deal with Jake "Hangman" Seresin. Now you just wish he would stop doing things that make you fall in love with him.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman Seresin x Fem! Civilian! Reader, minor Javy "Coyote" Machado x OC

Word count: 19k

AO3 LINK

Warnings: Abuse (Implied and mentioned), confrontation with Abuser, Child abuse (mentioned), Slow burn, Implied calorie counting, routines and compulsions, Jigsaw puzzles, taxes, Neurodivergent coded! Hangman, Fiscally responsible!Hangman, Protective!Hangman. Please let me know if I missed any for this part, I know it is a long one.

Authors Note: This got so completely out of hand. It started as one scene and then grew a mind of its own. Part two is written, just not edited, I'm planning on having that done later this week. Hangman Coyote BFF supremacy.  I apologize for writing the most hyper-specific!Jake you have probably ever read. 85% of his personality is just things I find attractive in men.

Thank you so much if you take a chance to read this work. I hope you enjoy it. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

You had been at your friend Marlee's house for almost an hour before she couldn't stop herself from confronting you. She had at least let you get settled and offered you a drink while pretending to be distracted by the lasagna she was making. She had spun towards you expectantly when it was in the oven, having reached her limit on waiting. 

"What happened?" Marlee asks. 

"It's nothing." You respond. 

"It is something. I don't want to reread your texts back to you, babes."

"Marls," you sigh, briefly closing your eyes, trying to fight the exhaustion you feel. 

"You can't live there anymore. We need to get you out."

"Yeah, let me just move and find a place to live. It's not that easy, Marlee." 

She sighs heavily. "I know, babes, but at least stay here with Javy and me. If he touches you like that again."

"It was just a one-time thing," you quickly cut her off. But, from the pitying look in her eyes, she knows it hasn't been just this one time. 

"If something happened."

"Nothing is going to happen." Marlee was too bright and too good of a friend. She knew something had already happened, and she knew things had been happening. Her frown and eyebrow raise say it all. 

"I can't just crash here," you say. 

"You are always, always welcome."

"You are," a voice pops up, and you both look over to the couch. You thought Marlee's husband, Javy, was thoroughly invested in the game he was playing on his Xbox, but it turns out he had an ear on your conversation. 

It wasn't something that bothered you. You loved Javy, he had been an excellent partner to Marlee, and you considered him a friend. He was fun and easygoing, something you hadn't expected from a Navy man. You also weren't bothered because everyone knew they were the type of couple that told each other absolutely everything. So, Javy would have found out one way or another.

"I know that. Thanks, you two." You tell them, trying to get them off your back. 

"Marlee is right. We can't have anything happening to you."

"Nothing is going to happen to me, Javy," you say, now trying to reassure them and stop this unnecessary worrying. 

"You know. I have a friend who has actually been looking for a roommate." Javy says. 

"You do?" you ask, surprised you hadn't heard about this sooner. 

"Yeah, I mean, he can be a lot. But he is a good guy and a great roommate."

"Who ?" Marlee cuts in. 

"Jake."

"Hangman?"

"Yeah, Hangman." The two of them stare at each other, and you can see that they are having one of those conversations of glances and small expressions you weren't entirely privy to understanding. 

Marlee then shrugs, nodding, and looks back at you, "It would be a nice safe place." 

"I mean, it's an option and would be a nicer place to stay than anything else you'll find. Plus, someone who is not a total stranger as a roommate." Javy tells you. He pulls off his headset and makes his way to the kitchen. He sets his hand on your shoulder and gives you a kind smile. 

"I'm not sure about living with a man."

"If you don't want to live with Jake or you aren't interested, we will find somewhere else. Or you stay here with us, but you can't stay there anymore." The seriousness behind Javy's smile isn't lost on you. So you start to slowly nod. 

"I guess I could at least chat with your friend if y'all think it's a decent option." 

"Yeah, for sure," Javy said with a grin. "I'll ask him about it, then maybe y'all can meet this weekend. We are still having a big bonfire on the beach. I'm sure he will be there."

"Oh, I wasn't planning on going to the bonfire." You start to say, which makes both Javy and Marlee frown.

"Why aren't you coming to the bonfire?"

You tried to think of a valid excuse beyond that being in open public spaces was terrifying to you right now. An excuse past the fact that you knew your bruises wouldn't be gone by Saturday. 

"I've just been stressed about finding a place to live, you know." You gave them both a weak smile, but neither of your friends seemed appeased. 

"Well, now you have a reason to come," Marlee says. 

"Yeah, exactly, and I'll talk to Jake." Javy presses a kiss to your forehead and then a lingering one to Marlee's lips. He returns to the couch, but not before looking at you seriously. "You know if you ever need anything, you call us?"

"Sir, yes sir," you tell him with a laugh, making Marlee giggle too. 

Even with Javy's reassurances, you are unsure about this whole idea. However, whoever this friend Jake is, you know he had to be better than your current living situation. After dinner, Marlee and Javy both reiterate their feelings on the whole issue before you leave their house. You did your best to wave them off and tell them you would see them in a few days.  

When Saturday rolls around, you head to the pin Marlee sent you for the bonfire. You are thankful it is a cooler day and will only be colder once the sun sets. It allows you to not look so out of place in your conservative clothes, ensuring all your bruises are covered. 

You arrive purposefully late and park far from the beach. By the time you make it to the group of people, you have sufficiently hyped yourself up to interact with the others. You decide to ease yourself into the party. You walk around the different coolers, opening them and investigating the available drink options. 

You are in the middle of shuffling through one when you hear a voice behind you.

"Anything specific I can help you find, sweetheart?" You turn around and are met with one of the most attractive men you have ever met. He is tall, with dirty blonde hair and a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose. 

"I'm just browsing," You tell the man with a shrug, proud of yourself for being able to put together a sentence. 

"I think I know what would be perfect for you, sweetheart.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah," He says, flashing you a grin. His smile makes something in your stomach swoop a tiny bit. 

"And, what would that be?" you say, raising an eyebrow. 

"Me, of course."

You can't help the shocked laugh that falls out of your throat. Which just makes his handsome smile widen. 

"I was thinking something a bit stronger, actually."

"I know I look like a tall glass of water but let me tell you, I won't disappoint you."  

"Well, looks certainly can be deceptive."

"That's true. Are you really as sweet as you look?" 

Before you can answer, you hear Javy's voice to your right. "Oh good, you two already met." 

You turn your head to see Javy jogging over. He stops next to you with a smile on his face. You process his words and feel your stomach drop. The incredibly handsome man you were trying to flirt with was Javy's friend. Javy's friend he thought you could live with. 

"There haven't been any formal introductions," you say. 

"Jake Seresin," he says. He sticks out his hand, waiting for you to shake it. You take his hand, give it a firm shake, and share your name. He repeated it softly, giving your hand an extra squeeze before letting go. 

"Javy said you are looking to move," Jake says casually. Your voice seems stuck in your throat. You examine Jake's handsome face again and know you can't do this.

"Yeah, she is. Soon, too." Javy says after you haven't said anything leaving an awkward pause. 

"I have lots of space."

"Oh well, you know." You say, trying to figure out what to say by saying nothing at all. Jake nods along with you, but his eyebrows pull close together while his eyes narrow. 

"Plus, Jake is really clean," Javy adds. 

"That is good to know. Maybe Jake and I can talk about it later?" You say, giving both of them a smile. You turn back to the coolers and grab the first drink you see. 

"Yeah, we can talk about it later. Javy owes me a spike ball game anyways," Jake says. He flashes you another smile while grabbing a High Noon out of the cooler, gesturing for Javy to do the same. You leave them to find Marlee and chat with some other people at the party. 

You are considering how to best say goodbye and leave the party while sitting next to the fire later. You stare into the flames hoping they might provide you answers. 

"You would actually be doing me a huge favor by moving in, "Jake says to you casually. You are startled by his sudden presence, and you look over at him, quirking an eyebrow in response.

"Oh really?" 

"Yeah. I haven't had a roommate for a while, and I would prefer someone who isn't in the military. I don't want to bring work and ranks home. You know?"

"Oh yeah, sure, that makes sense," you say, following his line of logic. 

"Also, rent these days is," Jake doesn't finish the sentence, instead just whistling quietly.

"Yeah, rent is expensive," you laugh. You find it much easier to talk to Jake if you don't have to look directly out at him. 

"You don't have to let me know right now, but I don't have any issues with it."

"We haven't talked about it much," you tell him, surprised he had decided so quickly.

"There is this saying that beggars can't be choosers."

"I would want a roommate contract. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that would be fine by me, Sugar."

"Okay, cool, but we should think about it."

"Tonight is a party, and we are supposed to be having fun. Not doing business. So, why don't you text me, and we will hash out the details this week. Plus you can see the place, which you would probably want. Maybe you could move in next weekend if we can work it all out?"

Part of you thought you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, so you decided to text Jake throughout the week to hash out the details. And the next thing you know, Javy, Marlee, and Jake are helping you move your stuff. 

Living with Jake wasn't as hard as you worried it would be. In fact, it was much easier than you were anticipating. Jake led his life with strict regiment and routine. It was something that stretched beyond that he was in the military. 

Jake would wake up in the mornings and go on a run before coming home, making breakfast, showering, and going to work. Then he would come home, change and go to the gym, come home, shower again because he needed to, and then eat dinner. Every night if you were home while he was cooking, Jake would always offer you some. That leads you to find out he is a phenomenal chef. 

Then Jake would read in the large armchair in the living room and half-watch whatever you put on the TV to watch yourself. He only requested to use the TV when one of his sports teams was playing or on Wednesday nights, where he would spend an hour and a half playing Animal Crossing with his niece while they facetime. 

You had told Jake that the TV was his, and he didn't have to ask you to use it. Jake just laughed and shrugged before telling you he wasn't the biggest TV guy. Jake had been telling the truth when he said that. You realized that Jake was more interested in his books. If he wasn't reading a book, he sat silently with one of his sudoku puzzles and country music playing on vinyl. Then Jake would go to bed after whatever chores he deemed he should do. 

It was a strictly followed pattern, only differing on Fridays when he would sometimes go out to a bar with the guys or sometimes Saturdays. However, even on the weekends, he would follow the schedule closely. Regardless if he had gone to the bar, he would still wake up outrageously early in the morning, work out, do chores, and then go to the gym again. Sometimes Jake would venture out of the house to see his friends, but more often than not, he was reading or in the workshop in the garage with some project. 

Marlee had not prepared you for how amazingly hot Jake was. When you moved in, he had been very polite, if a bit curt. Never venturing to flirt with you again like when you first met. As the weeks living with Jake passed, though, he definitely warmed up to you. But still never pushed the roommate line between you. 

You worked hard to push your attraction for Jake to the side or shove it into a safe in the back of your mind. That was a challenging task to accomplish because, just like Javy said, Jake was very clean. It wasn't that he was a clean freak per se, but he was definitely an orderly and well-kept person. Everything in the house had a place it belonged. 

Jake always did his dishes and tidied up after himself in your common areas. He also never leaves any of his laundry waiting around. You had watched in a mix of awe and horror the first time he pulled out clothes from the dryer within five minutes of the machine going off. Then Jake started folding, halfway through the laundry, stoping to pull out an iron and ironing board. 

The sight was all so attractive that you had to excuse yourself upstairs. That was something that you often had to do. Anytime you felt heat build in you towards your roommate, you would quickly excuse yourself. You knew giving into your attraction for Jake in any shape or form would not lead anywhere good. You needed a place to live, and this place you had with Jake was way too good to risk anything. 

Given his career choice, it was not entirely surprising how regimented Jake is. However, what did surprise you was when he started to incorporate you into his routines in small ways. Jake would automatically set out an extra plate for you when cooking, and picks up snacks you like from the store. One day you come home and find a second shoe rack by the door just for you. On the days you had to be up for work, you would find that Jake had already put your morning drink together for you when he returned from the gym and was making his own breakfast. You like the steady rhythm and consistency that living with Hangman provides you. It's seamless and easy to fall into step with him. 

You had been living with Jake for a few months, and things were going really well, almost too well you sometimes felt like it was too good to be true. Your nightmares weren't as frequent. You get full nights sleep and feel comfortable here with Jake. The only times you don't feel content are the times that you think about how hot Jake is. Or when Jake does something that makes it hard not to try and smash your lips against his in a heated, passionate kiss. 

Then one day, you get home from work, and worry suddenly sweeps over you as you glance at your phone and realize what time it is. The house is completely dark and quiet. Jake should have been home several hours ago and on his way to the gym already. In fact, right about now was when he should have been getting home from the gym.  

You resist the urge to call Jake and check that he is okay. You know that action would be overstepping the roommate boundaries that exist clearly between you. You tell yourself it's silly to worry all because he wasn't following the schedule you made up for him in your head. It's not like Jake had ever written down his routine and given it to you. Maybe today was a special anniversary, or maybe he had after-work plans you didn't know about. 

Your worry is eased about twenty minutes later when you hear Jake's truck pull into the driveway, followed by the garage door rumbling open. You find yourself easing further into the couch, some of the tension you weren't wholly conscious of easing out of your body.  

Jake comes in, and you cut your eyes over to see him still in his flight suit. He doesn't say anything to you as he unlaces and kicks off his shoes. He passes you while walking to the stairs and manages a short but gruff hello. Then, without another word, he is gone. You stare after his back in shock. Something is definitely not right with Jake. 

He left his shoes sprawled on the ground by the door. It was not a sight you had ever seen in the house, not even the times Jake had stumbled home drunk and giggly. Jake always pulled off his boots, neatly tucking the laces in and then setting them up on his small shoe rack by the door. 

You get up from the couch and walk over to fix his shoes, tucking in the laces. You tell yourself it is so no one will trip over them, not for any other reason. Then you hear Jake's shower turn on, and the water runs much longer than the twenty-minute showers you are used to him taking. It all feels so odd and out of place. You decide to make some pasta for dinner, convinced Jake is planning on not eating at all with how far he is off his schedule. 

You are just finishing dinner when the water in his bathroom finally shuts off. Then fifteen more minutes later, Jake comes downstairs in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a thread-bare Annapolis shirt. He appears to be looking around downstairs, almost a bit dazed and lost. 

"I made dinner. How about you have some?" You call out to him from the kitchen. Jake follows your voice to the kitchen and looks at the food you have made and dishes up. Hesitantly he sits down at the table. 

"If you don't mind."

"Of course not. I know this may shock you since you normally cook, but I can do it too." 

"I've never thought that you couldn't cook." Jake quickly responds. 

"I know, Jake. I'm just teasing you. Now eat up." 

Jake follows orders and takes a bite of the pasta, letting out a small groan. "So good," he mumbles before taking another bite. 

"Do you want the macros?" You ask him conversationally after eating in silence for a few minutes. 

"Oh. No, thank you. I appreciate you making something and sharing. No need for you to put in extra work. I will be fine not tracking my macros for one meal," Jake says. 

"Okay," you say and give him the kindest smile you can think of. You don't want to push him on why he isn't okay. However, you can't stop yourself from sliding the piece of paper you wrote the macros on across the table to him anyways. 

Jake stares at the note card for a long moment and then looks up at you. It's not a look you have ever seen on your roommate's face before. You aren't entirely sure how to decipher the way his green sea-glass eyes are gleaming back at you. He folds the paper once before putting it in his pocket. 

Jake clears his throat, and the edges of his lips quirk up. "Thank you."

"Of course, anytime, Jake," you say back. He puts away his plate a few minutes later after finishing his food. Then packs up the leftovers into some tupperware. 

"I'm going to bed," Jake tells you. Jake doesn't even stop to grab the current book he is in the middle of from where it is placed next to his chair in the living room. 

The moment Jake disappears up the stairs, you are frowning again, considering his behavior. It bugged you, something clearly was off, but you weren't in the position to ask him what it was. As you start to settle down for the evening, you notice that Jake had put it in the laundry basket next to the washer that morning. Seeing that you knew he originally had every intention of starting it before going to the gym that night something that never happened.

You briefly considered that maybe it isn't normal how you have memorized his routine, but also maybe that was just part of living with Jake. You didn't even think before you were throwing his laundry in the washer for him. You stay up to put the clothes in the dryer. Then you find yourself folding items and hanging some of them, not confident that you could iron them correctly. About halfway through the chore, you stop realizing just what you are doing but finish it out, imagining the look on Jake's face when he sees his laundry done. You are in too deep to back out at this point. 

🏡🧩🏡

You knew it wasn't the best idea that morning when you had left to go pick up some of your remaining stuff and random mail from where you used to live. However, you didn't expect it to go as badly as it had. You were still shaking from the interaction you had when you got home. Every moment of the interaction repeats over and over in your head. You hazardously throw your keys into your little key bowl, not caring to notice Jake's there as well. 

You were still trying to take calming breaths and push away the tears streaming down your face. Standing at the entrance to the living room frozen, you aren't sure if you are actually at home or back there with him. 

You startle and jump, letting out a small shriek, hearing a sound in the kitchen. You turn slowly, shocked to see Jake staring at you dressed in his NWUs instead of his flight suit. You are equally surprised by the sight of him home in the middle of the day, in a uniform you rarely see him wear. 

The adrenaline of being scared forces your brain into letting go of the nerves and panic you had barely been keeping in check. Tears spring freely from your eyes as you take gasping breaths. J ake sets down the knife he is holding and takes long strides across the room to quickly reach your side. His hands hover near you but don't actually touch. 

"What's wrong?" Jake asks in a deep voice. 

You just shake your head at him, unable to respond, instead focusing on getting air into your lungs. 

"Can I touch you?" Jake asks then, and that does seem okay, so you jerkily nod your head yes. 

First, his hands settle lightly on your shoulders. Once it seems like you are okay and comfortable with that. Jake goes a step further and wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest. You press your face into the material of his shirt. Your hands come up to bunch it slightly on his chest as you find purchase to clutch him closer. 

He makes gentle shushing noises but otherwise doesn't say anything while holding you. He is so warm, and his arms feel strong around you. Jake's hold on you doesn't waiver once while you cry. Only relaxing slightly when your sniffles and crying start to level out and you let go of his shirt. 

You take one more deep breath of him. Jake smells of a pleasant mix of his body wash, y'all's fabric softener, and his cologne. Letting the calming effect of the smell flood your system before letting go of your hold on him completely, only then does Jake let his arms slip away. 

Pulling away from the hug, you shyly look to see Jake's face. You find that he is already looking at you. For one of the first times since you met him, you don't like how Jake's face looks. There is a soft and sad demeanor that you see in his eyes. His eyebrows crease and his lips are pressed into a flat line. You feel embarrassment and shame flood you. The way that you just broke down and cried on your roommate, fully processing in your muddled tired head. 

"You're home," you eventually say, trying to break the ice and put a brave face back on. 

"Yeah, I'm not flying today. So, I had the time to come home for lunch."

"Sorry to interrupt." You say, looking down to examine your feet. 

"You didn't interrupt anything," Jake reassures you. He goes back to the kitchen, and you watch as he continues to cut ingredients for his salad.

"Do you want me to make you anything?" He asks.

"No, thank you. "You say not feeling even a little hungry. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jake asks next. 

"No, thank you," you say again and settle at the kitchen island to watch Jake cut the veggies and toss them in a big bowl. 

"Okay," he says. You like that Jake doesn't push you for things. He respects the boundaries you set and doesn't even try to toe up against them. 

"Am I allowed to know why you aren't flying today? I thought someone had broken in. Plus, I hardly recognize you out of a flight suit."

"You don't like these?" Jake asks, looking at the Navy camo print he is wearing as if this uniform suddenly offended him. 

"I didn't say that," you tell him, giving a small laugh. Obviously, Jake could make anything look good, even things that shouldn't. 

"Can't fly every day." He says with a shrug. "Also, I'm going through some maintenance stuff and checks with my sailors." 

You hum, but otherwise, don't comment watching Jake wash the knife and cutting board he had been using then. Then, after he drys them and puts them away, he turns back to you. 

"There isn't anything to be embarrassed about," he tries to venture lightly. 

"You don't come home and cry on me," you say, frowning. 

"You sure about that one?" He asks, shoving a mouthful of salad into his mouth. 

"Pretty sure that I would remember such an occasion." 

Jake just hums. One of those sounds that makes you feel like he doesn't actually agree. A few bites of his food later, he sets his bowl down. His green gaze is trialed on you, but then he glances at his watch, huffing in annoyance. 

There is a slight caving feeling inside you. You feel bad. How much of Jake's lunch have you taken up? You had never actually seen him come home for lunch before, so he must not get a long time. 

"I do all the time. Maybe just a bit less of the wet physical crying." Jake tells you, putting a container lid on his bowl.

"You could," you utter to him, a little embarrassed. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, wouldn't bother me if you ever needed to. You know. I'm here for you."

"Thank you, Darlin," Jake says. Then glances at his watch again. "I got ten minutes before I have to go. What would you like to do?"

"I'm fine," you tell him. "You should use that time to eat." 

"I'll munch while I'm doing some paperwork later."

That was a lie. You knew that Jake would never eat around paperwork. However, it was the kind of lie that settles warmly. It was one of those lies born with good intentions and made to be soothing. You could never be upset that he is even trying to comfort you at his own expense. 

"I don't want to talk about it, Jake." You reiterate again.  

"I know, and you don't have to. I won't ask again. However, if you ever decide that you do. I'm here for you too. Always." 

"Thank you, Jake. You're a really good roommate."

"I hope you can consider me a friend too?" 

"Of course, we are friends too," you reassure him. Jake's lips quirk upwards, his dimples flashing upon hearing that. 

"Now, I can't go back to work without seeing at least one smile." 

"That's a pretty tall order." 

"Well, they don't call me the best for nothing."

"Do they really call you the best or is that something you just tell people?" You ask him, mostly joking. Jake pretends to take offense, pressing his hand dramatically to his chest. 

"Ma'am, you wound me," Jake says, pouting. 

"I don't know. I think it is a pretty legitimate question." 

"I am the best." 

"And how do they determine that exactly? Who the best is." 

"Well, there are a lot of ways. Many different factors to consider." 

"Oh really?" 

"Yup. Also sorts of stuff, but they get us all together once a year, and we have a competition." 

"What kind of competition?"

"Only the elite members of the Navy participate. We all take turns sliding." 

"Sliding?" 

"Yup," Jake confirms, sounding one hundred percent serious. "We set up a huge slip and slide on the carrier runway. You only get three tries, and then we add them for scoring. I may have ripped off all the skin on my chest last year, but it was worth it to win." 

You can't help but let out a laugh. You picture Hangman competitively sliding down a yellow tarp that doesn't have enough water on it. It's such a silly concept you aren't sure where he came up with it. 

"Ahh there she is," Jake says with a broad smile. 

"I never would have thought that was a skill the Navy values." 

"Yes, Ma'am. It's actually the second part of the Naval academy mission," Jake tells you, still maintaining a serious tone despite his smile. Then Jake stands up straight to his full height in parade rest. 

"To develop Midshipmen morally, mentally and physically and to imbue them with the highest ideals of duty, honor and loyalty in order to graduate leaders who are dedicated to a career of naval service and have potential for future development in mind and character to assume the highest responsibilities of command, citizenship and government." Jake repeats dutifully and then adds. "In addition to putting these ideals to the test by hosting the world's most competitive slip and slide competition. Weirdly, people don't talk about that second part much." 

You only laugh harder, shaking your head at him. "Yeah, an absolute mystery. I can't believe that isn't common knowledge." 

Jake chuckles along with you. Then you two are interrupted by a timer going off from Jake's phone. He sighs and silents it. 

"I'm sorry. I've got to go, sugar. Are you going to be okay?" 

"Yeah. I promise I'm okay. Thank you, Jake." 

He bites his lip and nods at you going to put in his shoes and lace them back up. "Are you going to be home later?" 

"Yeah, I'll be home." 

"We could do something if you're feeling up for it. Or I can pick up takeout." 

"That's sweet, Jake, but you really don't have to." 

"I want to," he says with a shrug. Then checks his reflection in the mirror, making sure he is presentable to go back to work. After that, he turns back to you. 

"I'll think about it." You tell him before playfully shoving him out the door so he isn't late. You try not to melt when Jake gives you another hug. You catch his hand just before he is too out of reach.  

"Thank you, Jake. For making me smile."

"It's the prettiest thing I've seen all day," Jake says, squeezing your hand with his own. His words muddle your brain a little bit. You don't get to say anything else before he heads off to his truck, waving at you one more time and driving off. 

You also pretend you aren't screaming on the inside when Jake comes home from work that night with your favorite food and ice cream. The night feels easy and warm, sitting and eating with Jake. The events of that morning can't cross your mind while Jake tells you all about some of the weird contraband he found in the junior sailors' barracks that day. He is no less than spellbinding. 

🏡🧩🏡

Jake is sitting at the kitchen table when you get home from work. He is surrounded by neatly organized papers spread all along the table in various piles. Jake is wearing a button-down, tie, and slacks that make you do a triple-take on him.

"Welcome home," he says, glancing up from his laptop that is open in front of him. That's when you see he also has a pair of glasses on. 

"Thank you," you say, slowly making your way to the kitchen but still looking at him. 

"What are you working on there?" You ask. 

"Oh, I'm doing my taxes," Jake says while giving you one of his winning smiles. 

"Taxes?"

"Yes, Ma'am"

"I guess that makes sense," you say while looking around the kitchen for a snack. 

After a few minutes of silence, you decide to ask another question. "Do you have a date later?" 

You knew Jake dated. A man who looks like that has to date. However, you had yet to see him ever bring someone home, which felt odd considering everything about Jake, and the persona he liked to put on as Hangman.  

"No. What makes you ask that?" Jake asks you. 

"Oh. I don't know. You're dressed like you are going on a date."

"No, I'm not," he says, looking down at himself. 

You laugh at him and shrug. "If you say so."

"I would never wear this on a date," Jake mutters, clearly offended. 

"Well, then, why are you wearing it?"

"I'm doing taxes," he says again. 

"Yeah, we have covered that. What does that have to do with your clothes?"

"I'm dressed like an accountant," Jake tells you. You can't hold back your giggles at his phrasing and bring a hand up to your mouth to try and stifle them before giving up entirely. 

"What? What's so funny?" 

"Two things," you say, holding up two fingers, finally biting back your giggles. 

"One, the fact that you got dressed up to do your taxes. The second is that being an accountant is a euphemism for being a sex worker." Jake chuckles at your explanation but shrugs. 

"Well, Mrs. Celeste said I should always dress for the day. It helps you present your best self. If you dress the part, it helps you act that part." Jake says that like a well memorized and treasured quote. A saying he clearly remembered with much fondness.  

"And today is my tax day, so I am dressing like a tax professional. I will have you know. Since I started doing them myself, I have never had one problem with my taxes."

You couldn't help but chuckle more at his explanation and give him a fond smile. Sometimes the way Jake was so perfectly built and attuned for the military was endearing. Of course, a career Naval man would think a uniform was essential for each different activity. 

"So, are the glasses part of your tax uniform too?"  

He made a show of pushing the said glasses further up his nose. "Yes, Ma'am. They also are blue light blocking, which helps prevent migraines."

You nod along to his explanation. You finish putting together your snack and lean against the kitchen counter while munching on it. "Who is Mrs. Celeste? A teacher?"

Jake's lips flatten slightly before the expression relaxes just as quickly. "No, Mrs. Celeste is my Babula." 

"Your Grandmother?" You guess. 

"Yeah, sorry. My grandma, but she was strictly Mrs. Celeste growing up, only Babula occasionally." 

"I don't think I've met someone who calls their grandparent by their first name."

"Well, not really her first name. You have to be respectful and throw the Miss in there with it. She is a very particular lady."

"Is it a southern thing?"

"Yeah, maybe," he says with a small laugh. The edges of his lips quirk up, and you have to look away from Jake to distract yourself. It is easy to fall into the trap of how beautiful he is, with the sparkle he can get in his eyes. Or how even the smallest of his smiles makes you want to grin back. 

"So, how are the taxes?" 

"Oh, it's good. I'm almost finished up."

"Awesome, congrats Jake."

"Have you done yours?" He asks you. 

You shake your head and roll your eyes at the idea. "No, I definitely haven't."

"But you got your W2s in the mail last week."

"Jake, are you snooping through my mail?"

He raises both his hands up in defense. "No, I'm not! W2s just have a very particular look." 

"I'm just kidding. I know you wouldn't snoop through my mail. Yeah, I got them, but I've been busy. I guess I should make a Tax Masters appointment or something."

That crease in between Jake's eyebrows appears, the one that haunts you, that you pretend you don't obsess over. Followed by a small frown.

"Tax Master?" He asks, clearly appalled. You shrug back at him, not entirely seeing the issue. 

"I could do them for you," Jake says, then quickly adds on. "I mean, I can help you do them. If you have the time. I'm already dressed for it, and I won't charge you or anything."

"Oh no, Jake, that is so sweet, but I can't ask you to do that."

"No, really, I wouldn't mind. I think it would be fun. Plus, then you will have it done, and you won't have to worry about it." 

"Really, thank you so much, but it's fine." 

Jake's frown deepens at your answer, and he seems almost genuinely upset at your denial of his help. The warm feeling in your chest likes to flip over and grow a little bit more each time he is too sweet in moments like these. 

"You know Javy warned me that you were an asshole when I was going to move in. However, you have not once lived up to that. You could stand to be less nice to me, Jake." You tell him. You mean it to come off as almost flirty and a bit of a joke. However, it doesn't seem to land with him that way. 

The change that comes over Jake isn't something entirely tangible. It is almost like a shift in the air around him rather than anything physical. The way Jake looks at you just feels heavier and more charged. The confidence he always exudes seems to double with how he sits up just the smallest bit straighter but then leans back against his chair casually. 

"Go get your W2s." He tells you in a perfectly level tone, but it has a demanding edge. 

"Jake," you start to say and roll your eyes at him. 

"Nope," Jake says, popping the p. His voice takes on a lower candace, leaving no room for arguments. "I'm not giving you a choice. We are going to do your taxes." 

"No, we aren't doing my taxes." 

"Yes, I am. I can't be caught not living up to my reputation. So, I'm not going to be nice and accept that you don't want to. This is one of the few situations I won't take no for an answer." 

"It was just a joke." 

"No, it wasn't," Jake says, giving you a small shrug. You can't tell if he is actually hurt by how he is acting, but you suspect some part of him was twinged at his best friend's description. 

"It really was, Jake. Javy adores and trusts you. I'm sure he never would have suggested me moving in with you if he actually thought you were an asshole." 

"I know I'm an asshole. It's fine, sugar, don't worry. I'm not going to tattle on you telling me that to Coyote."

"You aren't an ass, though. That was my whole point."

Jake just shook his head at your answer. "I am one, and I don't want that to be a surprise when you inevitably witness it." 

You aren't sure how to respond to that, so you are relieved when Jake changes the topic. "Now, get your tax stuff, so it doesn't take us all night."

"Okay," you sigh, giving in to defeat. Jake gives you a mega-watt smile, and looks back at his computer screen. 

As you are walking up the stairs, you hear him yell across the house. "Dress like your best accountant self!"

"I won't be doing that," you yell back. 

"Please! It's important." Jake yells back.

When you are in your room getting all your stuff and paperwork pilled together. You find yourself opening your closet and pulling out an outfit that you could imagine wearing if you were an accountant.

You also spend several minutes too long wondering what would happen if you went back downstairs in the most provocative lingerie you own. After all, Jake didn't specify which type of accountant to dress up as. You wondered if it would be tempting to Jake. Could you provoke him into falling into lust with you? Tempt him enough that he took you on the dining room table on top of all the Tax paperwork? Jake has expressed attraction to women before, so there must be at least some part of him that is at least a little attracted to you. 

You smash down your thirsty thoughts and try to screw your head back on straight before it can drift too much off on track. When you get back downstairs, Jake is still at the table. You dump all your stuff on an empty spot there. 

Jake looks up from his computer and smiles at you, quirking an eyebrow. Then, Jake speaks to you teasingly, "And here I thought you might dress up as the other type of accountant you were telling me about." 

Your brain has no choice but to start short-circuiting, and you open and close your mouth twice. Jake starts shuffling through your paperwork, looking at what you have brought him. 

"I ordered us some pizza too," he says before you get out a proper response or say anything teasing back to him. 

"Yum. I'm excited," you tell him sliding into a seat and opening up your own laptop. 

He stops his shuffling and examination of the papers to level you with a serious look. "Thank you for indulging me, by the way." 

"Anything for you, Jake," you tell him and mean it. Unfortunately, the way you feel about your roommate is rapidly spiraling out of the tight control you tried to keep it in. 

"I like when we do fun things like this together," Jake says to you, grinning. 

"Me too," you tell him. Then add, "Only you would find taxes fun, though, Hangman."

"I am about to show you just how fun taxes can be and how you can get a great return," Jake says, taking your words in stride. 

Jake does your taxes almost entirely by himself, only asking occasional questions. He also then organizes all of your paperwork in an extra accordion binder he has. The taxes aren't fun, but spending time with Jake is.  

"Thank you," you say to Jake daring to press a soft, affectionate kiss to his cheek. You linger for a moment, the prickle of his end-of-day stubble ticking your lips, but you don't mind it.  When you pull back to gauge his reaction, Jake looks almost pained and upset. You worry for a moment that even just a cheek kiss could make him react this way. You briefly thank god you didn't actually try to seduce him earlier. 

"Always, anytime." He finally says. However, Jake is now glaring down at his keyboard and not looking at you. 

"I hope it wasn't too much trouble," you venture, confused by this mood shift. 

"Sugar?"

"Yes, Jake?" 

"I don't think you should pay so much rent." 

"What?"

"Listen," he runs a hand through his hair, pushing it all out of sorts. "I just don't think it's fair for you to pay so much."

"Of course, it's fair. I live here," you explain. 

"Yeah, but no. I get BAH, and I don't have any student loans from school. Plus, the Navy pays me plenty as an officer. I was paying for this place all alone before you moved in anyways."

"I'm not going to pay less rent because you saw my financials and feel bad." You tell Jake quietly, trying not to actively become upset. 

"Please don't be so stubborn," he pleads with you. 

You cross your arms over your chest, "Take your own advice."

"I'm the one being stubborn?" 

"Yes! You are. You are the most stubborn man I have ever met."

Jake's frown deepens, and that sad look in his eyes at your words starts to break through to you. Then he responds, "I'm sorry. I guess I'll try and work on that." 

Jake starts meticulously putting things away into different folders. He moves through each of his piles on the table and doesn't spare you a second glance. It leaves a crushing feeling in your chest. 

"I'm sorry for snapping at you." 

"There is no need to apologize. I'm the one who is sorry." Jake says, shrugging off your apology. 

"No, you don't need to apologize. I understand why you said what you did. I know you were trying to be sweet." You start to say but are cut off. 

"I wasn't trying to be sweet."

"Oh my god. Okay, fine, trying to be nice, then," you say, rolling your eyes. 

Jake sets down the folder he is currently holding, and it thumps a little bit on the table. The force and loud sound make you flinch. 

"I'm not sweet, nice, good, or kind. Okay? I'm not any of those things. I call things how I see them. I look at facts, figures, and numbers. Then I run calculations and act accordingly."

"And how is it mathematically possible that me paying less rent possibly works out for you, Jake? You will be losing money." As he shakes his head, he huffs at your words a little bit like they are funny. 

"You could do a lot and make a lot of gains if you paid less rent, and I don't mind picking up the extra amount. You might be one of the few people I haven't hated living with. I don't want you figuring out you need to live somewhere cheaper and moving out on me. So, I'm not being nice. I'm being a selfish asshole." Jake clenches his fists hard, and you see his knuckles start to turn paler. With a deep breath, he relaxes and shrugs. Loosening the tight coil of his muscles, Jake gives you a curt tight lipped smile with a nod. "I'm just a selfish asshole, okay?"

"Please stop. Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true," he says, rolling those beautiful eyes at you. 

"It's not true. Also, I would prefer if you don't use the word selfish around me, please." You say in a surprisingly steady voice. You don't really want to get triggered right now, and you could only hope that you wouldn't have to explain triggers to Jake. It takes him one moment to think and another to process before he says anything. 

"Oh fuck. I'm so sorry. I won't use it again." Jake promises, no questions asked. His words blow up a balloon in your diaphragm, making it feel like your breath is about to catch. Then he adds on, "If there are any other words…" He looks around and grabs a loose pen and one of his notebooks. Jake slides them across the table to you. "Write them down. Maybe? If you can." 

The warmth Jake inspires in your chest is unparalleled and drowns out anything you can think of aside from how endearing he can be and how fond you are of him. Jake doesn't take the lack of response from you well.  

"I'm sorry," he apologizes again. You spring from where you had been sitting, walking slowly and deliberately toward him. You make sure to give him plenty of time to protest and say something. 

Jake looks steadily back at you. However, he looks like he is preparing himself to be slapped or punished, holding perfectly still. Instead, though, you wrap Jake in a tight hug. He is stiff as a board beneath you. After a long moment, as you consider pulling away, Jake relaxes and wraps his arms around you. They are wrapped loosely at first but then tighten in small intervals until Jake is practically clinging to you. 

"You are so good," you whisper to him, a little dazed. You are almost stunned by how desperately Jake tries to pretend otherwise. 

"Don't say that," Jake whispers in a broken voice, hugging you a bit tighter. 

"Too good." You left the words for me unsaid, but you felt them. 

"I'm really not."

"It's okay if you don't see it. I see it for you. I'll make sure everyone else sees, too," you tell Jake curling your hands into a fist in his shirt. 

He doesn't say anything but keeps holding you tightly. You don't know how long the two of you stay embraced like that until Jake finally eases his grip on you, and you reluctantly pull away from him as well. 

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. "Please stop paying so much in rent," he requests again. 

"That will not be happening, Hangman."

"So stubborn." He sighs. Jake kisses your forehead again. He leaves his lips lingering, and you start to count the breaths memorizing how warm his lips are. Three breaths later, he is pulling away. Jake grabs his laptop and a stack of folders heading upstairs without another word to you. 

You stare after him for a while, trying to parse out the mystery Jake presents, and coming up a bit short, just like you always did. He is one of the most outwardly confident men you have ever met. Yet, other times, Jake is the first person to make a self-deprecating comment about himself. You swallow down how much you desire more from him, wishing for more, knowing you can't and shouldn't have it.  

🏡🧩🏡

You and Jake were lounging on the couch. He was scrolling on his phone, avoiding going to the gym, half-heartedly trying to convince you to go with him. You were also scrolling your phone while deflecting Jake’s offers. 

That was when your doorbell rang, followed by heavy knocking. You and Jake both look up at each other. He raises his eyebrows, and you just shrug, having no idea who could be at the door. Jake looks back to his phone, clearly ready to ignore it, when the doorbell rings twice more, and the pounding on the door gets louder. Jake sighs and gets up, walking across the house towards the noise. 

“Hold your horses out there!” Jake yells towards the door before opening it. 

You wait for a moment, trying to hear who it is, curious about who would be so rude and what they needed. However, you don’t hear anything from where you are on the couch. So you stand and follow Jake into the entry hallway. 

“Sir, I am going to have to ask you to leave.” You hear Jake say. He is standing at his full height in the door frame. 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” You hear from on the other side of the door. 

Nervousness shoots through your whole body hearing that voice. Anxiety immediately pops up, and your stomach drops. You know that voice. You have heard it a thousand times before. Why was he here? How was he here? 

“I asked you to leave, Sir.”

“Just tell that little bitch that —”

Jake steps further forward onto the front porch. “Now, we don’t speak about ladies like that where I am from. And I’m going to ask that you act accordingly while at my home, Sir.” Jake cuts him off with that well mannered southern military niceness. 

“I don’t give a fuck where you are from.”

You flinch at his tone of voice, feeling bile rise up in your throat. You lean against the wall slapping your hand over your mouth, trying to prevent yourself from throwing up. 

“I asked you politely to leave. I won’t ask again. I can call you a taxi or an uber. But don’t you dare take one more step on my front porch.” Jake says in a deep tone. You are hit with the sudden, horrifying realization that he is going to hurt Jake, and that is something you just won’t let happen. 

You are trying to go through possibilities in your head. Anyway, this could shake out; it would be bad for Jake. Jake would either get hurt and get in trouble, or he would kick ass and gets in worse trouble. This would end badly; either way, Jake is going to get in trouble, and it would be your fault. You would be responsible because you caused this situation. Jake was going to pay the consequences all because he was trying to protect you. You were roommates, so Jake must think he has some obligation to protect you. 

You feel swamped in stress knowing how easily Jake can escalate a situation and provoke someone; sometimes, all it takes for him is one well-placed smile. That stress is finally what unfreezes you, and you stumble towards the front door. 

Jake’s large, broad form still mostly hides your view of the other side, but you cautiously approach and set your hand gently on the back of his shoulder. You feel how tense Jake’s muscles are under your hand and can see it in the line of the back of his neck. 

“Sugar, I’m not going to tell you what to do,” Jake says in a deep voice. He doesn’t budge an inch or look back toward you. “But I would like to suggest that you go back inside. I have this handled.” 

You want to cry. You want to cry for so many reasons: cry because you are in this situation, that you have to deal with this again, that you feel so small. However, you mostly want to cry because Jake “Hangman” Seresin is such a good man. It’s startling sometimes, not because it’s really unexpected, but rather that it is so completely and bluntly genuine. 

Having Jake here defending you, trying to protect you from the person who has probably scared you most in your life, it feels so silly to pretend like you don’t have feelings for him, to pretend that you aren’t more in love with him than you ought to be.

The realization doesn’t really feel shocking; it is closer to acceptance. A given truth that is part of your life now. An empowering truth that swells in your bones like a swift tide, filling up the spaces that have been empty for so long. 

You love Jake more than you are scared. The warmth of affection towards him is so hot it burns out the freezing ice in your veins and the numbness in your fingers. You love him, and you will be damned if you let Jake be hurt, touched, tainted, or affected by this man who has hurt you. It seems cliché that loving someone like this is enough for you to finally break through the barrier of fear you have lived your whole life in. However, now it just feels so simple. 

Your heart is beating hard. The adrenaline is pumping through you so strongly that you can hear it echoing in your ears. Your hand slides up Jake’s back to his bicep, and you give him a gentle push. Jake shifts with the movement. He slides to the right so you can finally fully see the front porch. However, he doesn’t move enough that you are fully exposed. Jake’s body is still partially concealing you from view. 

Then you hear your name, and your attention snaps away from its hyper-focus on Jake. You turn it forward and brace yourself. You drift your eyes to the ground, landing on the feet of your visitor, staying there for a minute before meeting his burning eyes. 

“Hello, Dad.” 

“Ah, so she is here,” your father says, throwing his hands up and glaring at Jake. You can smell the booze on him from the doorway. It makes your stomach turn. You resist the urge to wretch, squeezing your hand, which is still on Jake’s bicep. He flexes, and his bicep digs into his shirt as your nails also dig in. You don’t like those angry, hateful eyes on your Jake. Jake doesn’t budge an inch or react to your nails on his skin.

“What are you doing here, Dad?” You ask him. Your hold on Jake acting like an anchor point for you. 

“You don’t bother to answer my texts or anyone else’s calls and texts. Just because you moved out doesn’t mean you get to be a selfish bitch” your dad spits out. 

“I’ve been pretty busy,” you defend yourself in a small voice.  

“Oh, I bet you have been so busy. What are you doing these days?” He growls at you. “You know it doesn’t really count as moving out if you are spreading your legs to pay for it.” 

You flinch, your hand falling from Jake’s arm and balling into a tight fist at your side. You hate how easily he can make you feel small, even when you are angry. 

“Watch your mouth,” Jake hisses, rejoining the conversation. You glance at him, and Hangman is shaking with contained rage. You know this is not a good situation; anytime, someone could blow up. 

“You should go inside, Hangman,” you tell him gently. 

“Absolutely not,” Jake responds instantly. 

“So you are playing the part of a pathetic little whore wife for this pretty boy.” Your dad says, cutting in. 

You grit your teeth as he continues on. “Come on. I thought you gave up pussies after our talk when you were in high school.” 

With the reminder of just what he is referring to, You are overcome with anger, and you finally can’t take it anymore. You recognize his words for what they are, a direct bait at Jake and undercutting you. It makes you so angry you start shaking. Tears burst from your eyes, trying to let off some steam bubbling inside you. It boils up, so you can’t take it anymore, and you whisper, “Shut up.” 

“What?” Your dad asks, clearly shocked. You take a step forward fueled by your anger. 

“Shut the fuck up.” You pronounce each word slowly. Then continue on, “I’m tired of this. You don’t get to be mean to me and still expect a relationship with me. You don’t get to hit me, yell at me, and abuse me just to show up at my house on your bullshit. And you sure as fuck don’t get to say anything about Jake.” You suck in a rapid breath, the words fueling the fire in you. Your angerburning brighter with every word. 

“You made me think that kind, decent men didn’t exist, Dad, but Jake is good. He isn’t a pretty boy. He is smart, sweet, strong, and kind. I will not hear you say one more thing about him. Ever.” You punctuate the sentence with a jab of your index finger at him. He looks like he might be cowed, and before you can even finish a prayer that he will be done, the fire in his eyes lits again. 

“You could have at least found someone who stands up for you. A real man.” Your dad isn’t even looking at you when he says it. Instead, he is staring at Jake. 

“That’s a rather rude thing to say about an active duty Naval Officer,” you hiss. Your dad takes a step back, his eyebrows raising, reexamining Jake. He shifts his weight between his feet nervously. 

“You aren’t welcome at our home. So leave and crawl back into the bottle you drank before coming here. Don’t come back, Dad. I don’t want to see you.” 

You try to force your body to relax, but the adrenaline is still pumping hard in your veins. So, you start to walk backward back into the house. Jake still hasn’t taken his eyes off your dad, and he makes no move to come with you back into the house. 

“Jake?” You ask. 

“Just give me a minute, sweetheart. I need to have a talk with your old man here and make sure that he makes it home.”

“I don’t want him near you.” 

Your dad still looks blown away by this turn of events. Like he is scrambling to put words together. He keeps looking back and forth between you and Jake. 

Jake breathes out heavily through his nose. He turns his head enough to glance at you. Whatever he sees on your face must break his resolve. Jake clenches his jaw, and you watch the muscle flex once, then twice. After that, he rolls his shoulders, and it’s like Hangman is physically able to just shrug the tension of the situation off. 

“Get home safe, Sir. I suggest doing so soon. MAs are known to drive down our street.” Jake says it in a light, easygoing tone, border lining on cheery. Then, plastering that practiced, perfect smile on his face, Jake nods his head toward your dad and comes back into the house. 

Jake closes the door but doesn’t move, staring out the frosted window on the front door. His body is tense again, standing rigidly at his full height. You are still shaking from anger. You slump against Jake’s back, letting your body weight shift into his. One of his arms bends backward a bit awkwardly, sitting on your waist. His large palm is burning hot. You can feel it through the fabric of your clothes. Then Jake’s fingers flex to give you a small squeeze of reassurance. 

When Jake finally does move, it is just to turn away from the door and wrap you tightly in his arms. You enjoy the warmth of his strong embrace, feeling exhausted as the adrenaline starts to fade. Jake is still shaking, though. 

“He’s gone,” Jake says into the crown of your head. You let a little sigh escape you, feeling a bit more of the tension release. 

“Good,” you manage to tell him. 

“I wanted to defend you. I wanted to slam his face so hard into the porch that he wouldn’t ever be able to open his mouth again. Wanted to tell him how you are—”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you cut Jake off before he can continue. You don’t want to know what he thinks about you right now. You can’t handle whatever words could spill out of his mouth next. 

“I’ll make sure he never comes back here,” Jake says, his voice dropping, and you feel the rage contained in him, the subtle shake and heat coming from how tense he is. 

“I don’t want him near you. If something happened to you because of him….” you trail off. Your hands wander the expanse of Jake’s back in an almost soothing motion. However, you don’t know who it is soothing more, you or him. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

He takes a deep breath and then releases it in a heavy sigh. “What if you just give me his full name and social security number? You wouldn’t have to know about anything else.”

“Jake,” you whisper in a tone that is almost reminiscent of amusement. 

Jake sighs again. He draws back from your hug and cups your face. He swipes his thumb across your cheekbone, wiping away the tears that have been lingering. 

“You are the kindest, most compassionate person I have ever met,” Jake whispers. Considering how he is looking at you with a glimmer in his eyes, it’s clear the emotions of the situation are still running rampant. That look, paired with how he is holding you, makes you think Jake might be about to kiss you.  

“No, No. Stop.” You don’t know if you are trying to ask him not to kiss you or to stop talking. Either way, you feel like you might explode if this interaction isn’t over soon. 

“Yes,” Jake says. “Let me, please.” 

His thumb is still tracing along your cheek, and you can’t help yourself from leaning a tiny bit into his palm. An action that momentarily freezes his thumb before it picks up steadily again. Not hearing an explicit no from you again, Jake continues on. 

“That man has no say over you. Who you are is so stunning. You never deserved to be treated the way you were. I am so sorry you ever had to go through that. I am so sorry he showed up here. You don’t owe him a single second of your time or attention. You are valuable. You are amazing. He is trying to make you small because he sees how good you are.” 

A shudder racks through your body, hearing Jake’s words, and fresh tears start to fall unprompted from your eyes. As soon as they do, though, Jake pushes them away. “I am so proud of you for getting away from him. You are so strong and brave. It makes me awed. I’m so glad that you moved in here. You are…” Jake doesn’t finish the sentence, he seems to lose his train of thought. His mouth parts a little bit, and his eyes flash down to glance at your lips. 

Jake is going to kiss you, and it might possibly be the worst thing that could happen. If he kisses you right now because of your dad, you know you might break into a million different pieces. You don’t want Jake to kiss you for any reason but pure desire and affection. You don’t want him to kiss you in comfort, or pity, or convenience, or as an outlet. You don’t want him to kiss you just because emotions are running high from the incident that just happened. Most of all, you don’t want Jake to kiss you and not mean it. You don’t want him to kiss you without the intention of kissing you again. 

So, even though you are desperate to feel his lips, and memorize their shape, how they feel against yours. Desperate to discover what he tastes like, curl your fingers in his hair and take comfort in the form of his body. You know you can’t, it has the power to break you, and you already feel so broken and exhausted. 

You cover the hand Jake has on your face with your own and pull it away. However, you don’t immediately let go holding his large palm. Hangman takes your hint and steps backward, giving you a little space so that he is pressed against the door again. You decide to thread your fingers with his. Jake’s skin is still almost hot to the touch in your hand.

“Thank you, Jake,” You finally say, meeting his piercing green eyes again. You squeeze the hand you are holding. He gives you a tight nod and then tips his head upwards, so he is looking at the ceiling. Jake rests his head against the door as well and closes his eyes. 

You observe him for a moment, then you go to release the hand you are holding. Jake stops you, though, his hand tightening as yours loosens, and you try to pull away. You give a little tug, and he tightens his fingers even more. Jake’s head is still tipped, and you hear him sucking in a deep breath before blowing it out.

 “Please don’t let go,” he begs you. Jake’s eyes flash open again, and he is looking down his nose at you. “I just, I need you.”

You inhale sharply at his phrasing, and he sighs heavily. “I might do something terrible if you let go of me. If you don’t need me here, there won’t be anything to stop me.” 

“You’re not going to do anything terrible,” You say, retangling your fingers with his. Jake’s hand flexes in yours, and he takes another big breath. 

“I’ll make sure he loses our address and forgets it too. Make sure he doesn’t remember anything at all anymore. I’ll—”

“You’ll stay right here, Jake.”

He lifts his head so it isn’t tilted against the door anymore and stares down at you. He looks like he is holding on to every word you are saying to keep his sanity. His skin is flushed from anger, and his palm shakes slightly in yours. You were in awe he was able to hold back this reaction so long, remaining calm and collected throughout the entire encounter. 

“You will stay here with me, Jake. I need you.” 

“Yeah?” He asks shakily. 

“Yeah. Need your help, Jake.”

There is a low rumble in his chest, almost resembling the hum it was probably supposed to be. You step closer to Jake, once again closing the gap between you.

“Tell me what you need.” It comes out as a demand, and he seems to realize that when he adds on a small quick “Please.”

You look at him then, trying to read his face and those eyes that haunt your dreams. You examine the creases and lines his face makes with the severe angry look he has plastered on. You take the time to observe how his hair is hazardously falling out of place for how many times he has run his hand through it. You don’t really find any of the answers you are looking for. You just find Jake. And Jake is an oh-so-wondrous thing to find. 

You step closer to him and tug the hold he has on your hand again. His nose scrunches for a moment, and his frown tightens. His eyes lift upwards towards the ceiling again as his jaw clenches; he lets go of your hand. Jake’s hand falls heavily back until it hits the door making a smacking sound. You flinch at the sound but take another step forward, crowding Jake against the door. You lift your hand up to trace over his neck and then settle on his face, encouraging him to adjust his gaze back to you. He follows direction and leans into your hold, just like you leaned into his earlier. 

“Need you to stay with me,” you start slowly, encouraged as Jake nods his head in a small jerk. 

“I need you to leave the front door.” 

He considers your words for a moment, then shakes his head. “I don’t think I can do that. I’m sorry, sugar. I need to protect you.” 

“There is no one in the world I feel safer with than you, Jake.” He squeezes his eyes tightly closed at those words and pulls in a ragged breath. “So, you can’t leave me alone here.”

He nods again but still has his eyes closed. “Ain’t leaving. You need me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Can I hold you?” Jake asks, then once again remembers his manners throwing out another small, please. 

“Yes, please,” you whisper. Jake doesn’t waste a moment before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you snuggly against him. The change of angle causes your hand to slip from his face, so you wrap it around his neck instead, your fingers drifting against the short hairs there. You go to wrap your other arm around his waist but instead awkwardly hit the front door. You hiss out a small breath at the momentary pain. 

Jake responds to the sound. He starts walking forward, making you walk backward. Walking while he is wrapped around you proves to be difficult, and you stumble a little. That seems to be all Jake needs; he wraps his arms under your ass and lifts you. 

You are terrified at the concept that Jake is going to try to carry you, and you open your mouth to protest. However, with only one small grunt that honestly sounded more like pure sex with how low and husky it is, Jake is carrying you down the hallway. You wrap your arm around his neck more securely, adding a second one for more leverage. 

Jake doesn’t stop to set you on the couch like you had expected. Instead, he continues up the stairs and right into his room. He sets you on his bed gently, and you unwrap your arms from his neck, letting him pull away. Jake goes back to the door of his room, closes it, and clicks the lock into place. You raise an eyebrow at his action.

"That’s rather presumptuous, Hangman.” 

“What?” He looks at you confused before he looks back at his door. “Oh no, I’m sorry. I wasn’t, I’m not.”

You shush him motioning towards yourself to try and get him to come closer again. “I know.” 

Jake comes back to your side. Now that you have been given the temporary clearance to freely touch him, you cannot stop yourself. Jake sits next to you on the bed, and you are scooting closer so that your thighs are flush side by side. Jake throws an arm across your shoulder, pulling you even closer to him. 

“Do you need to talk about it?” He asks you softly. You let a hollow dry laugh at his question, your laughter starts to devolve until it’s nearly hysteric giggling. Jake takes it in stride, holding you close and his thumb drawing small soothing back-and-forth shapes. After you are almost breathless and heaving, you finally start to recover. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, but I definitely need to. Not with you, though, Jake.”

“Why not me?”

“Because it’s the kind of fucked you talk to a therapist about.”

“I’m a great listener.”

“I know you are, but this isn’t your baggage to pack around and deal with, Jake.”

“Baggage? Sugar, that’s why we have the attic. If that isn’t enough space, or you fill it up. I’ll build a shed in the backyard.”

“What if that’s not enough room?”

“Then we have the garage. We’ll just park in the driveway.”

“You would give up your shop?” You ask, thinking of Jake’s favorite place in the house. 

“Yup,” Jake says without hesitating. “And after that, well, I’ve never been too fond of the extra guest room anyway.” 

“If that’s all not enough?”

“Then we’ll move. Or we go through it until we find some we can let go of.” Jake says, his free hand crossing his body to settle warmly on your knee. 

“It’s not physical baggage.”

“I know it’s not.” 

The feeling of affection you feel for him grows even more. Every time you think that there is no way possible you can fall further in love with him, Jake turns around and proves you wrong. He does some kind, funny, sweet, unexpected thing that makes you fall a little harder. 

You lift your head and look at him. Jake’s eyes meet your own, the severe stormy look in them a little less present. He is a bit more at ease, no longer shaking with anger. You let your eyes fall to his lips. You briefly think you love him so much it might be worth the risk to shift forward and kiss him. That maybe it wouldn’t lead to disaster like you’ve convinced yourself it would.

“What’s your favorite comfort movie?” Jake asks, breaking you from your trance. You shift a bit further away from him but not far before giving him an answer. 

The two of you watch your favorite comfort movie. You are cuddled into Jake’s side the whole time. The two of you had shifted back into the bed, cuddled close while watching the wall-mounted TV in Jake’s room. Exhaustion hits you like a wall as the adrenaline leaves your system, accompanied by the heat radiating off of Jake, the way everything smells like him, and his Tempurpedic bed; you relax more than you have in a long time. 

As you start to drift asleep against Jake’s chest, his heartbeat has a steady, soothing rhythm under your ear. You think out of all the times you have dreamed of falling asleep with Jake in his bed, none of those fantasies come even close to how good it actually feels. None of your dreams prepared you for how safe you would feel.

Your dreams also didn’t prepare you for sneaking back to your room at three in the morning when you woke up. Or pretending the next day that nothing had happened. After all, nothing had happened except some tense moments and Jake getting a glimpse of your past. You don’t say anything, and he doesn’t, either. You catch him watching you closer than he would typically for the next few days. 

More time starts to pass, and you are thankful that nothing was risked or changed between you and Jake or has affected you as roommates. There are only the slightest moments when both of you are much more casual about physical affection. Hugging Jake was now a commonplace part of your day, and you occasionally catch yourself daydreaming about what it felt like to fall asleep in his bed. 

🏡🧩🏡

You had started to pick up what the signs were when Jake wasn't okay, and something was bothering him pretty early into moving in. He had some pretty obvious tells. However, something had been really really bothering him for a while now. He didn't say anything to you, but he didn't have to; Jake's mannerisms gave him away. Jake wasn't following his routine and had started obsessively cleaning.

The other night, he knocked on your door, bursting open seconds after you told Jake he could come in. Then Hangman had all but begged you to let him deep clean your room. When you told Jake no, he gave you a look like you just insulted his Babula and stalked out of the room. Half an hour later, he was back in your doorway, asking the same question phrased slightly differently. You had finally given in after his second time double-checking. However, you insisted that you helped and supervised his cleaning. Once you agreed, Jake had done his happy dance. It was so cute it managed to cover the embarrassment that was crawling in you at letting someone else, let alone the man you loved your roommate, clean your room. 

The next day Hangman decided to reorganize all the bookshelves. First by color, then by genre, and even one time by the number of pages. His last reorganization was to put them all back to by author's last name. This was only after Jake talked to you for over an hour about the pros and cons of the Dewey decimal system in modern library science. 

After the books, you come home, and there is a puzzle on the table. A 2500-piece puzzle of the painting Meeting On The Turret Stairs. Jake works on it constantly. Only stopping to go to work and the gym. For three days, he doesn't read and doesn't do his sudoku. Jake doesn't sit with you in the living room at night. Instead, he just works on his puzzle, blowing past his typical bedtime every night. Then he stops going to the gym, and a day after that, he cancels his weekly call with his niece. That's when you know without a shadow of a doubt that whatever is bothering Jake must be significant. 

Finally, you can't bite your tongue or try to keep your nose out of his business anymore. The concern you feel is too much to handle. You had gotten up at 3 am for some water, and Jake was still puzzling at the table. 

"How's it going, Sport?"

"No, I'm Hangman," Jake answers in a quiet voice. 

"What?" you ask him, confused. 

"Not my callsign," Jake mumbles to you. You squint and try to piece together what he means in your still half-asleep brain. 

"You know someone named Sport?"

Jake just shrugs his shoulders, engrossed in his task. "There are worse callsigns to have." 

"Like Hangman?" You tease him. Jake finally looks up at you when you say that. Jake's eyes are bloodshot, and he has a hurt look. The small frown, paired with his glassy tired eyes, makes you feel like you just kicked a puppy. 

"Hangman is cool," Jake protests. 

"Hangman is very cool," you tell him placatingly, holding up your hands in surrender. 

 "You don't actually think it's cool," Jake whispers, his tired eyes falling back to his puzzle. Jake sounds so sad about it that your feet are moving before your brain, and you are sliding next to him on the bench for the long side of the table.

"Hangman is cool," You say and then nudge him affectionately with your shoulder. "You are cool." 

His lips quirk upwards from his frown before falling again. “Well, I am the Hangman.” 

"How is the puzzle going?"

"Fine, good. I like puzzling."

"You have done other puzzles?" You ask. 

"Yeah, I have a whole box full."

You hum at his words, tiredly wiping your eyes. "You should have been Puzzleman." 

Jake's eyes flash over to yours, slightly worried. "Do not ever say that around Coyote." 

"Hangman, It's three AM." He looks surprised to hear the time, and you watch him turn his wrist to confirm the time on his watch.

"Go to bed," You add softly. 

"I like when you call me Jake." 

"Then why do you listen better when I call you Hangman?" 

"Hmm, maybe because that's the name I hear most often. Maybe because it's easy to be Hangman."

"Is it hard to be Jake?" You ask him gently. 

Jake is quiet for a long moment after your question. Before answering, he sets the piece he had been holding back in its color pile. All he gives you is a whispered, "Sometimes."

You aren't sure what to say, so instead, you put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze it. "It's time for bed, Jake. It'll be here in the morning." 

Jake nods his head, listening to you. You get the water you initially came downstairs for and wait until Jake starts up the stairs. Following behind him, you make sure he goes into his room. You aren't really eased about the situation when he shuts the door. However, you are glad he will at least get some sleep. 

Before you go back to bed, you shoot your group chat with Marlee and Javy a text. 

Have you ever seen Jake do a puzzle?

You wake up to texts from Javy and Marlee, both asking all kinds of questions like: what you meant? What kind of puzzle? With how many pieces? And, how long has Jake been working on it?  

From the questions alone, you gather that your worries are correct and Jake puzzling is not a good thing. Getting out of bed, you make yourself presentable enough to venture out of your room and downstairs. 

In the mid-morning light, you are once again greeted with the sight of Jake hunched over his puzzle. A steaming cup of tea sitting next to him, and Chris LeDoux playing from the record player. 

"Good morning," you say. 

"Morning, sugar," Jake says back. You are glad to get a response, but the worry is still gnawing at you. You start putting together your own morning drink, and your eyes keep drifting back to him. 

"Jake, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." He says, not looking away from the puzzle piece he is currently studying. 

You stop leaning against the counter, taking your drink with you and walk over to his side. Jake is completing this puzzle concerningly fast; you notice examining his progress this morning alone. He keeps staring at the piece in his hand, unblinking even as you approach. You watch him for a few more moments before deciding it's time for you to intervene. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" You pose cautiously. His eyebrows crease, and he still doesn't look away from the puzzle. 

"About the puzzle?" he asks you in a hopeful tone. 

"No, Jake. About what's bothering you." 

He finally does spare you a glance, and you don't like how dull his green sea glass eyes are. The normally vibrant, mischievous glint isn't present, and they are slightly bloodshot and red, even after you forced him to get some sleep. 

"It's fine. I'm fine. Just work stuff. I've got to finish this puzzle." He tells you, then looks away. 

You frown at Jake's answer. Puzzles are supposed to be fun, and you don't think this is actually a healthy, cathartic activity for Jake anymore. You almost preferred his book reorganization or when he went to every door and oiled the hinges, the top and bottom hinges twice but the middle ones only once. When you asked why not the middle one twice? Jake had told you something about middle children that had made you laugh. 

While Jake normally released stress through organization, order, and control. The frenzy and energy he has with this puzzle is different. This wasn't like the month after you moved in, and he decided to rearrange his shop in the garage. Jake had reorganized his tools, labeling where they all went. After that, he made you a booklet of where everything in the garage was located, just in case you wanted to use something. Jake was very genuine about it, too. As if he really believed you were about to start borrowing his screwdrivers, saws, wrenches, lathe, and various other tools. 

Your frown deepens, and you pull out your phone, shooting a text to your group chat with Marlee and Javy. Answering some of their questions from the morning and shooting back a request of your own. 

After texting with them for a few minutes, you set your phone down on the table, taking the spot next to Jake. He gives you another short look but doesn't say anything. You take a moment to look at the piece he has been staring at for over five minutes at this point. 

Taking it gently from his grasp, you examine it yourself. A moment later, you place the puzzle piece into the correct spot. Jake ghosts over the piece you just placed and taps it twice as your hand retreats. 

"You got to tap it into place," he tells you softly. Then Jake is back digging through his piles, looking for the next piece. 

You help Jake with his puzzle for a little bit, pleasantly surprised at the textured surface of the pieces, enjoying how tactile they are. You know this must be a very expensive and nice puzzle. Any time you place a piece, you make sure to tap it twice for Jake. Each time you do, Jake gives a small nod of approval. The one time you forget, his fingers quickly find the piece again and tap it twice with a small annoyed huff. You don't try and coax Jake into a conversation again, simply enjoying just being with him. 

Y'all's work is broken a while later by the doorbell ringing. The sound startles Jake, and he jumps in his seat and his head snapping towards the door. You place a hand on his shoulder again to try and ease the sudden tension.

 "It's okay," you tell him quietly, giving his shoulder a slight squeeze. "I'll go get it."

"No, I can get it," Jake says, starting to stand up. You know he doesn't like you to answer the front door anymore. He hasn't ever since your dad showed up unannounced. Jake has never explicitly told you he doesn't want you to answer the door. However, you have picked up on it because he has not let you answer the door once since the incident. One time Jake had even sprinted across the house to beat you to the door. 

"Don't worry. I know who it is," you say. Jake gives you a concerned look but then nods a little bit. His eyes trail after you as you make your way to the entry hall. 

You open the door to Javy's tall form and are immediately wrapped in a tight warm hug. You lean into his embrace, enjoying the comfort for a moment. 

"Is it really bad?" Javy asks you in a low voice when you pull away from his hug. 

You shrug but then follow it up with a nod. "Yeah. I mean, I don't know. Maybe not? But it's the worst I have ever seen." 

Javy gives you another reassuring squeeze before he saunters into the house towards the living area. Jake's eyes are trained on the hallway, clearly waiting for you to come back. However, when he sees Javy, he blanches, dropping his eyes back to the puzzle. Jake's shoulders hunching tight almost up to his ears. 

"Hey, Hangman," Javy hums. 

"Machado," Jake says gruffly, fiddling with a piece. 

Javy shocks you by not immediately going over to Jake. Instead, he meanders over to your TV. He shocks you even more by opening a drawer in the entertainment center and pulling out an Xbox. Javy starts hooking up the console, and you shift your eyes to Jake again. 

He is still sitting there digging through his puzzle pieces. You aren't sure what to do. If you should leave the two of them alone, join Javy in the living room, or go back to the table with Jake. So instead, you end up in a weird middle ground lingering in the hallway. Finally, when Javy has everything set up, and the Xbox booted on, he goes over to Jake. Coyote sets his hands down so hard on Jake's shoulders that it jostles the blond a bit. 

"Wow, buddy, this is a nice puzzle," Javy says casually. 

Jake just hums in response, placing a puzzle piece and tapping it twice. Only answering once he picks up another piece. "It's a watercolor by Frederic William Burton. He painted it in — "

"It's time for a break, Hangman," Coyote says, cutting him off mid-sentence. 

"Naw, you see this section," Jake gestures generally towards the entire surface area of the puzzle. "It's almost done."

"Nope, it's break time," Javy repeats more firmly. 

Jake's shoulders hang, and it looks like it takes him physical effort to stand up from the table. Jake's joints and back audibly pop from the action, and he raises his hands above his head to fully stretch. 

You try to root yourself in concern, not thinking of the flash of skin you saw where Jake's shirt rode up a bit. Jake blinks a few times, and when he finishes stretching, he turns to fully look at Javy. 

"How long are you staying?" Jake asks, daring to glance back down at the puzzle. Javy snaps his fingers in front of Jake's face twice and then points aggressively toward the couch. 

"As long as I want to," Javy responds with an upbeat tone and a wide grin. He gives a light shove, and Jake shuffles over to the couch. Jake looks at you as he walks, and you can tell that he feels betrayed. 

"I'll leave you to it," you say, ready to retreat into your room. 

Jake looks away from you then, and you don't like the flash of embarrassment on his face as he does. It's been odd seeing Jake so completely out of his element and uncomfortable in his skin the last few days. Embarrassed wasn't a look that fits well on Jake. It made you want to rush in and remedy the situation. 

"You don't gotta go," Jake calls to you.

"Javy came over to hang out with you, Jake." You say plainly. You want to give them space to talk and hang out. 

"Yeah, bro, feeling the love," Javy says jokingly. It earns him a sharp jab to his side from Jake. The action just makes Javy laugh, though. "Don't worry so much, Hang. Marlee is coming by later with dinner, and then all four of us will kick back, but right now, it's me, you, and the Master Chief." 

"You'll hang out with us later, though? Or are you doing something tonight?" Jake asks, ignoring Javy.  

"There is nothing I would rather do tonight than hang out with you," you tell him. Jake's eyes snap up from where they had drifted to the left, lowered just enough not to meet yours. The burning bright color in them is startling after the dull, distant look he has supported the last few days. You can't stop the words you say next, needing to try and back peddle. It takes a long beat before you say, "and Marls and Javy. I don't know if you've ever had Marlee's green chile enchiladas, but they are to die for." 

"They are so good," Jake agrees enthusiastically and looks down at the controller he is holding for the first time. Javy then shoots you a smile with a thumbs up, and you are reassured enough that you head upstairs and into your room. 

You hear Javy's voice behind you, "You know Marlee only cooks for two reasons." 

You close your door before hearing Jake's answer and resist the urge to eavesdrop. A few hours later, you hear loud yelling and laughter from the living room. Then get a text from Marlee to send the boys to help her get the food out of her car. 

The rest of the night is mostly light, and Jake almost passes for his normal self. He jokes with Coyote, eats two helpings of Marlee's enchiladas, and with you... well, with you, he is hot and cold. One moment Jake will be flirting with you in a heavy bravado, then the next, he falls into a quiet, contemplative silence. Javy has to herd Jake away from his puzzle three separate times. It gets easier to draw Jake back in every time; the last time only took a question directed toward Jake to draw him back to you guys. 

It is a good night, and everyone seems happy at the end. Jake hugs Javy and Marlee goodbye and leaves you to walk your friends out. You let out a small sigh of relief, seeing Jake walk up the stairs and not back to the dining room table. 

You talk with the couple for a few more minutes on the front porch, then hug them goodbye. You are thankful for them, to have such good friends who are willing to be a support system, for you, for Jake, and for their other friends too. It warms your heart, and it feels a lot like family. 

Jake's puzzling is less frenzied after that night, and he starts to reign back in. He has full conversations with you again and goes to the gym after work as well. He follows Javy's rules that had been texted to you both and doesn't puzzle by alone again.

 For the next week or so, Javy and Marlee end up in your living room in the evenings. Keeping Jake from becoming too obsessed, you also notice that he won't let Javy or Marlee touch his puzzle pieces. But when Jake does work on the puzzle, and you are home, he always invites you to join him. 

Jake makes an effort to converse with you while working too. The conversations you two get into range from academic to childhood memories, favorites — books, movies, foods, bands, animals— funny stories, and anything else that would pop in your heads. Of course, each puzzle piece must still be double tapped into place, and you are meticulous about following that rule. 

Puzzling in the evenings with Jake surprisingly becomes one of your favorite times of the day. Sometimes you would even just sit there at the table with Jake, scrolling on your phone while he works on the puzzle. 

Hangman's presence is a comforting steady grounding force, so much so that you can only hope you provide half of that for him. You knew you were roommates, and Jake may not carry the same romantic feelings you do. However, you couldn't deny the plain platonic affection that poured from him, so much you sometimes think M aybe . Maybe he does feel more. 

When you enter the kitchen, you see the puzzle is finished. You go to examine it and realize two pieces are missing. You feel a bit of worry creeping up in you, not sure how Jake will react to having lost pieces and being unable to complete the puzzle. 

You start to look around, checking every chair and bench to make sure a piece hasn't fallen. You shine a light under the couch in case they slipped under there. Then you are flipping up the edge of the rug in the living room and trying to think of any other feasible place the pieces could have disappeared. 

"What are you doing?" you hear, and you snap your head to see Jake standing on the other side of the couch, looking at you bemused. 

"Sorry, I was just looking for your missing pieces," you say, straightening up and fixing the rug. 

Jake quirks an eyebrow then he follows your gaze to the table where his puzzle is. Jake's mouth drops open, lips barely parted, and a soft "Oh." falls out like he didn't even make the sound intentionally. 

"No luck so far, though. I'm sorry. I'm sure they will turn up. Only so many places they could have gone," You say, making sure to project an upbeat, positive tone and attitude. 

Jake looks between you and the puzzle twice before suddenly you are graced with the rarest of Jake Seresin's smiles. It is one you have only seen a handful of times. It's different than his smirk and his confident panty dropping smile. It's not the smile that he gets when he laughs, and his eyes crinkle around the edges or the mouth wide open smile. It's not his practiced perfect smile he uses for pictures. 

No, this smile is closed-mouthed, those pearly whites hidden from view. It's a quirk of his lips like Jake is trying to hold it back from showing it on his face but he isn't entirely successful. His bottom lip is tucked a little bit between his teeth as if he is physically trying to bite back the expression, none of which prevents Jake's dimples from popping up. 

It's a smile that always leaves you a little stunned, and this is no exception. Not that there are many things about Jake that don't leave you feeling that way. This smile, paired with the soft look in his eyes, makes you want to melt into the floor. 

"I have the pieces," Jake tells you then. It takes you a few moments to process his words. 

"Oh, you do?"

"Yeah, I do," he says and pulls out a ziplock baggie from his pocket with the two pieces in it. 

"That's great!"

"They weren't lost. I was saving them, actually."

"Saving them for what?"

"For you. Well, for us."

You don't think you are able to hide your surprise at his words. "For us?"

"Yeah. You know, so we can finish this puzzle together. We worked on it together. So, we should finish it together. Few things match the feeling of putting the final piece of a puzzle into place."

God, you want to kiss him. You want to grab his face and smash your lips against his. You want to taste him and thread your fingers in his short dirty blonde hair. The little fantasy starting to form in your brain is cut off by Jake walking over to the table. 

You follow him there, and Jake sets the last two pieces on the table, letting you pick which one you want. Once you make your selection, Jake grabs the other one. 

"Okay, on three," he tells you with a grin. At his countdown, you both place the pieces of the puzzle. Automatically you double tap your piece into place. Jake was right; it is an extremely satisfying feeling finishing the puzzle and seeing it whole for the first time. 

Your gaze drifts over the puzzle, and you look up to see Jake staring at you instead of the finished piece. After a moment, you realize what is wrong. Your hand reaches across and gently nudges Jake's to the side. Then you tap Jake's piece twice, realizing that for the very first time, he seemed to have missed that compulsion of his. However, you knew it would bother Jake when he realized he had forgotten, so you make sure to complete the ritual. 

Jake's gaze snaps down to the piece you had tapped for him. Then his knuckles purposely brush against the back of your hand, sending shivers up your arm.

"Thank you," spills from both of your mouths at the same time, which makes you laugh.  

"Jinx," Jakes says in a rushed voice, making you laugh harder. That odd tension in the air between you two disappears. 

You walk into the kitchen and grab a white claw from the fridge, bringing it back for Jake, handing it to him. Jake is a strict enforcer of the jinx soda pop rule. The two of you look at the puzzle for a few more minutes. Taking in the stunning painting, the yearning and sadness of it never fails to impact you. 

While the two of you had been working on the puzzle, Jake had told you many different facts about The Meeting On The Turret Stairs. How it was a watercolor painting by Frederic William Burton, the poem it was based on, the era it was painted in, and its place in Irish art. 

When you asked Jake more, he surprised you by knowing hyper-specific details and answers off the top of his head. Intrigued, you learned how he had double majored at Annapolis in Aerospace Engineering and History. However, because Jake was golden boy Midshipman Seresin, he had gotten away with his final history thesis being art focused. Hangman more than understood how to be charming when he needed to be. 

"What now?" You ask him. 

"What do you mean?" Jake asks, confused. 

"What do we do with the puzzle?" you ask. It sounds much better than what you wanted to say. What now between the two of you? What were you going to do to keep spending time together? 

"We take it apart." Jake shrugs. 

"No," you gasp, horrified thinking of all the time you had put into the puzzle just to undo it and throw it back in the box.

"What else would we do?" Jake asks you. You think for a moment before smiling at your own idea. 

"Let's Mod Podge it, and then we can hang it up. We have some pretty bare walls in the house, and it is a stunning piece of art," you suggest. 

Jake doesn't even take a moment to think it over before saying, "I love that idea." 

So, you two are driving to the craft store to get cardboard and Mod Podge. A week later, the puzzle has been cemented and hung on the wall in between your and Jake's rooms upstairs. After the puzzle is finished, Jake is back into his sudoku and his various other reading books. He still lingers near you in the evenings, waiting longer than he used to before retreating to his room for bed. 

One night almost a month after you two had finished the puzzle, Jake brings the subject up again. You two are lounging on the couch, he had just gotten home from watching the Army-Navy game at a bar with some of his friends, and he is definitely a little bit tipsy. 

"I am going to build us a puzzle table," is the first thing he had loudly declared, walking in the door. 

You were instantly worried about why Jake might want to start a new puzzle. "Is everything okay?"

Jake doesn't seem to hear you, though, as he continues on. "A really nice one that opens and closes with velvet or something so we don't have to worry about losing pieces, and maybe I can even make it an adjustable height?" He is talking to himself more than to you. 

You watch as he grabs a notepad and pencil out of a drawer. Then he slumps on the couch. Before you know what's happening or can stop it, Jake has his head on your lap and is sketching design ideas, potential measurements, and materials. 

"How are you doing?" you ask him again, staring down at his face, unable to contain your enamored smile. Jake just nods his head and keeps sketching while mumbling. 

You run a hand through his soft hair tentatively. It is a bit longer than usual right now, almost out of regulation. He will need to get a haircut this week, but the strands are so soft, and you can't help but enjoy that there is a bit more there to run your fingers through. His eyes instantly close, and he hums contently at your touch. 

"Hangman?" you ask him almost teasingly, halting your movements.

"Yes, sugar?" 

"Are you okay?" 

He blinks his eyes open and looks at you. Their gleaming sea glass green color is a little glazed over and so very soft. His mirth is open and obvious to you. "I'm so great. Navy won." 

"That's great. Go Navy." A wide grin splits his face wide, and Jake's eyes actually crinkle closed, hiding their unique color from you again. 

"That's right, Honey. Ooh ahh!" Jake responds automatically, making you both laugh, and maybe you had been drinking a little bit of wine before he came home; perhaps you were warm from that, or maybe Jake was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Your eyes lock with his, and your hands pull out of his hair. You let one drift trace his face helping him relax the furrow in his eyebrows. 

"Why do you want to start a new puzzle?" You ask. 

"No new puzzle. A new table." He corrects you. Jake taps his pencil on the notepad pointedly. 

"For a new puzzle?"

"You liked doing a puzzle with me, right? Well, after the first bit, you liked it?"

"I loved it." The words slip out of your mouth before you can amend the sentiment to come off less forward.

"Me too,"Jake says and trails off for a moment. Then he continues asking, "So you would be open to doing another one with me? Just for fun this time, not my mental health." Jake doesn't say the last sentence with any bit of shame or embarrassment, which you admire. However, the vulnerability is obvious and glaring. 

"Yeah," you confirm, once again having to run your fingers over his brow to relax his face. 

"Perfect. I'm building the table, then. You can pick the puzzle this time." 

You can't help but let your hands slip back into Jake's hair, and he returns to sketching on his notepad. It was a moment of quiet peace you knew you didn't ever want to let go of. 

"Javy said that you don't like to do puzzles with other people, and that's what helps you pull out of the pit." 

Jake's eyes don't leave his notepad, and he turns the page. You watch Jake start to scrawl the pros of a dovetail joint versus a dowel joint before he starts to draw it out as well. You almost don't think he will say anything back by the time he finally does. 

"You aren't other people," Jake tells you, as he starts drawing in shading, which is completely unnecessary for anything beyond aesthetic. He bends the lines from a basic blueprint to a detailed drawing of a realistic table joint. It was distracting watching the engineer in him flow into the unexpected artist. 

The idea that you ever had thought his talent for art and engineering were such radically different things was a bit funny. Now that you see him dance between the lines back and forth so elegantly that you understand it wasn't two competing sides of Jake. It was just him. It was how he worked and operated. 

It was how he was Hangman and also Jake. It was how he could fill out sudoku then go to bed at 9 pm and how he could shoot pool until closing with the squad. It was how he was a cowboy and a pilot. It was how you wanted to cry a little bit, knowing he enjoyed you there, knowing you weren't like other people. 

And you are struck with the thought that you don't ever want Jake to do a puzzle with anyone but you. You never want to see him sitting alone at three am with bloodshot eyes putting pieces into place again. And you don't even want to consider him explaining animatedly why he believes a piece goes in one color pile and not the one it was originally sorted to anyone but you. 

You want to be selfish with Jake. You want to have him, and you want to keep him close, never letting go. Surely you could convince Jake to be yours. It was a selfish act that could be forgiven if you promised to cherish him. After all, there were worse things in the world than loving someone, so entirely the fact they might not love you to the same degree didn't hurt so much.  

Jake flips to the next page in the notepad and starts to sketch out the living room. As he works, the living room table starts to look significantly different than your current one. 

"Oh. It's for the living room?" You ask him.

At first, he just hums in response, but when he finishes rounding out a line, Jake lifts his pencil from the paper. It pauses there, poised and frozen, as he asks, "Do you want the dining table instead?" 

"No." As you continue, the pencil falls back to the page, "It just wasn't what I was originally thinking."

"I could do a dining room table too. They could even be made of the same wood." Jake says. His green eyes broke from the page to glance up at your face for the first time in a while. He searches your face trying to gauge your reaction to his suggestion. 

"Two puzzle tables?"

"Think of all the possibilities. We could do two puzzles at once." Jake gasps. You kind of hate the excited timbre that Jake's voice picks up at the idea, but you actually mostly love it. 

"Just one puzzle at a time, please." You say, giving his hair a teasing gentle tug, ignoring the sharp inhale of his breath that immediately follows. You refuse to give away the unexpected thrill sent straight through your body that settles at your core. You have to consciously make sure your words do not fall out rushed, "I think it would be nice to have out here, comfier." 

"I thought the exact same thing."

"Oh really?" You ask, amused. 

"Yes, Ma'am. I've got two words for you, puzzle naps." 

You huff a small laugh at him and bite your lower lip. He flips back to his first page of notes, where he had a small list of wood. He adds cherry to his list after oak. 

"Juniper is really pretty," you suggest. He immediately starts to write down your suggestion with a little heart next to it. When Jake starts to shade in the heart, you feel like the one in your chest might actually burst out. Something very similar to butterflies was fluttering around in you, but it is much less nervous and rather born of pure fondness. 

"Sounds beautiful. I'm sure it's perfect," Jake tells you. 

"Let's pick one together, though. It should be our choice."  

"No," Jake says, drawing an elegant oval around juniper. Then he goes back and strikes a straight line through the other options. "No one else has ever remembered to double tap."

Jake spends a few more minutes detailing the design before his eyes start to get sleepy, and his pencil marks become light and halting. It doesn't take much from you to encourage him to go to bed, just a whispered suggestion. 

He stumbles up from the couch and places a kiss on your forehead. Jake puts his notebook on the counter in the kitchen. After that, Jake circles back to press a second lingering kiss to your forehead. You watch him go all the way around the house to double check the locks, the front door, the garage, and the back door. Finally, after sending you two finger guns, Jake drags himself up the stairs, humming Anchors Aweigh. 

"Until we meet once more, here's wishing you a happy voyage home!" You loudly hear him sing. You listen to Jake as he hums his fight song while randomly peppering in other lyrics. When you finally hear him close his door, your mind makes a decision on the war it's been having. 

You are going to do whatever it takes for Jake Seresin to agree to be yours. Potential consequences be damned; Jake is worth the risk.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #Hangman imagine #Slow burn #Roley Coley's writing #part 1 #Double tap #Hangman x you #house we share

[furiousladyking]

It's a Date

It's a Date - Part One??

Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: this is kind of a feeler to see if anyone is interested in yet another fic in this trope

Summary: Jake Seresin is feeling defeated. His youngest sister, Brooke is getting married in 3 weeks, and he has yet to find a date. While he loves his family, he can't say he enjoys getting those comments from his mother about when he is going to find a "nice girl" and settle down. In comes Y/N "Casper" L/N, a prime target to help get rid of the one on Jake's back.

Warnings: probably very incorrect military information - but hey we're trying our best, probably profanity

________________________________________

The Hard Deck was seemingly filled to the brim with aviators and civilians alike, something quite common for a Friday night in July. The crowd was loud, and there was an old rock song playing, however drowned out. The familiar clink of pool balls and thump of darts lulled incredibly tired individuals into a sense of calm.

In an entirely uncommon event, Hangman was... quiet. Too quiet if you ask any of his fellow aviators. Looks were passed, and whispers between Phoenix and Bob were somewhat hidden for thirty minutes.

"As much as we all appreciate a little bit of a break from hearing you go on about how great you are, you're kind of freaking me out," Phoenix tried as she walked up to the pool table. Coyote snickered beside her.

"Hmm?" Rooster quirked an eyebrow at the distracted man beside him. No come back? No stab at flirting? He took the pool cue and placed one end of the floor. He waited a moment. Despite the far away look in Jake's eye, he sunk the shot he had lined up. Rolling his eyes, Rooster decided to test the boundaries.

"Hey Hangman, did you hear that Cyclone let me know I was getting a promotion? Lieutenant Commander."

"Wow, that's cool," Hangman replied. He lined up his next shot. Those surrounding the pool table were a bit taken aback. Bringing his cue back, he stuttered on the follow through. "Wait, what?" The ball missed the pocket by about half a foot.

"There he is," Bob said from his seat, rolling his eyes.

"Lieutenant Commander? Rooster we both know you'd be the last-" Hangman began, hitting what the squad called his sassy stance. One hand on his hip, jutted out, the other holding his cue stick.

"Hey, no need to hurl insults, I was just seeing how out of it you were. Wasn't sure if we needed to send you to the infirmary. Your ego wasn't practically suffocating us" Rooster put his hands up in a mock-surrender.

Hangman placed his hand on his face, letting it slide down in hopes it wipe the worry away. He debated on brushing it off and telling them he was just picturing the best way to rub in his latest win during their dogfighting. The Dagger Squad had been stationed together in Miramar for a little over a year and no one was being reassigned anytime soon. Jake had been making a conscious effort to be more vulnerable with the squad, to let them in as his chosen family.

"My sister is getting married in 3 weeks."

The others were silent for a moment.

"Congratulations?" Phoenix offered. Hangman sighed and shook his head, mostly to himself.

"When they started planning the wedding six months ago I told my mom I had someone to bring with me," He started. Rooster cocked his head to the side. "She reminded me on a phone call about how excited she is to meet my girlfriend"

"Hangman has a girlfriend?" Fanboy pipped in, after hearing bits of the conversation.

"He doesn't," Rooster answered for him. "That's the problem."

"Hey, why don't you get someone to go with you and just act like you are dating?" Bob spoke from his spot on the chair. Suddenly feeling numerous eyes, he started to defend, "I've heard people do it a lot."

"I'm not bringing some hooker to meet my family," Hangman huffed, glaring in Bob's direction, then softening his gaze. "I'm just going to have to tell my mom that she and I broke up. Maybe she'll even pity me enough to not try and set me up with her friend's children." Jake leaned his pool stick up against the table and went to sit down next to Bob. He sipped his drink as he pondered how that would play out in reality.

"Get Casper to go with you." Hangman almost choked on his drink. He looked incredulously in Coyote's direction. "Think about it, she's the only one you know well enough to pretend you've been dating. Besides Phoenix, but we all know her acting skills wouldn't be good enough to go along with being your girlfriend for four days." Phoenix elbowed him in the rib. Coyote tries to stand tall, but still clutches his side in his hands.

As if on cue, he hears her voice. Still in her service khakis and hair in a bun, she carries her drink with her toward the group.

"Hey, what are we talking about?"

"I swear this type of shit only happens in movies."

_______________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

Anyway, let me know if this is something I should even consider continuing!

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #tgm #tgm fic #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #fanfiction

[jungle-angel]

Send Off (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You, Bob and the rest of the squad get ready to send your kids off to school and let the shenanigans ensue

"Okay Daddy I'm ready now!" Auggie chirped as he stepped out of the bathroom.

Bob sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Auggie, though he had tried, couldn't quite match his own clothes yet. "C'mere bud," Bob told him.

He went into Auggie's room and dug around in the dresser for a hot minute, pulling out a little white t-shirt and a blue checked flannel to go with Auggie's jeans. "Put this on," Bob told his little mini-me.

"But we're gonna miss the bus!" Auggie chirped again.

"Buddy we've still got plenty of time," Bob assured him.

"What's he buggin about missing the bus?" you asked, poking your head in the door.

"Just a little," Bob answered. "And might I ask why you're up Mrs. Floyd?"

"Bob, I've been taking it easy for three weeks now," you told him, the dishtowel in your hand coming to rest on your ever growing bump. "The only thing that your sister's allowing me to do is eat, sleep, read, watch t.v or use the can."

"Hey, Reagan's been doing this for the last nine years," Bob reminded you with a grin. "Trust me, you don't wanna brush off her advice."

You laughed a little, neither of you having noticed that Auggie had disappeared and come back a minute later. "Daddy I can't brush my teeth."

"Why not buddy?"

"Patrick's parked on the shitter!"

You and Bob both burst out laughing at Auggie's response, but at least three-year-old Patrick had finally gotten the hang of using the bathroom on his own.

You got Auggie's toothbrush and the charcoal and mint toothpaste out of the bathroom and had him scrub his teeth in the kitchen sink before Patrick was done, having just washed his hands. As soon as Auggie's backpack had been packed up, he followed Bob out of the house to wait for the bus.

It wasn't long before the rest of the squad had begun making their way down. Maverick was the first to drop by with Danny and Thomas while Rooster was close behind him with Nicky and Pete.

"You guys get outta the house ok?" Bob asked.

"Never better," Maverick yawned. "These two little demons though, woke Penny and I up at six-thirty while Amelia was doing her makeup in the bathroom."

Bob snickered a little, more so when he noticed Rooster in his black basketball shorts and a mismatched shirt. "You didn't sleep did you?" Bob chuckled.

"I couldn't even a coffee before we left," Rooster groaned. "These two are like bottomless pits......they just wolfed down their cornflakes and called it a day."

Coyote came striding up just a minute later with Paloma and Carla giggling like crazy but the exasperated look on his face saying it all.

"Hair......" he interjected before anyone could say anything. "That's all you've gotta know."

Bob looked over at his giggling nieces whose thick hair had been put into tight cornrows with white and turquoise beads at the end. "How'd you do it?" Bob asked him.

"I don't have a clue," Coyote said, throwing his hands up. "Those two cannot sit for two seconds to save their lives and my mom and my wife are the only ones who can do their hair. But somehow, Daddy did it!!!"

Payback crossed the street with Geneva and Neveah some time later while Mickey trailed along with Isabella in her new dress with a bright sunflower pattern. Hangman came around the back of his house with the twins while Phoenix was the last to arrive with Gabe in tow.

"Holy shit," Hangman groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. "Is it the first day of school already?"

"Unfortunately," Rooster answered.

"God help us all," Natasha said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Couldn't get the coffee in on time?" Jake asked her.

"This little knucklehead woke up and tried to bring the dog to school with him," Natasha answered. "First time I ever saw Cole jump outta bed in his shorts."

Everyone had a good laugh on the morning shenanigans while everyone had begun taking pictures of the older kids all lined up with their backpacks as they waited for the bus. It felt like forever but finally, the little yellow bus that had the name of their school stenciled on the side, pulled up and let the kids on. All of them waved goodbye to their parents, ready for the first day of school as the bus pulled away down the street.

"Are you crying?" Bob asked Jake.

"No," Jake insisted. "I've got allergies, that's all."

Bob rolled his eyes as everyone dispersed and went back to the house. His father's truck pulled into the driveway to bring Patrick down to the nursery school, where Auggie had gone, leaving you and Bob with the whole day ahead to get the nursery decorated for your daughter.

"What?" you asked when you heard Bob chuckle a little.

"Hangman was crying at the bus stop when Missy and Molly got on the bus," he answered.

"Did he really?"

"Oh yeah," Bob laughed. "Tole me it was allergies."

You both had a good laugh on the matter as you began putting the nursery together and attempting to paint it the way Patrick's nursery school had done. You looked over at your phone, noting the time, but hoping all the same that Auggie and your nieces and nephews were having the time of their lives on their first day of kindergarten.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #natasha phoenix trace #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #mickey fanboy garcia #jake hangman seresin #javy coyote machado #reuben paybak fitch #dagger squad

[callsigndragon]

You never asked | Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia

Summary: Mickey has a secret. He didn't want to hide it. It's just that nobody ever asked.

Pairing: Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia x fem!reader

Word count: 976

Warnings: fluff. domestic fluff. and i dont want to say anything more bc spoilers

A/N: So this is probably the beginning of many drabbles... Because i literally fell in love with Mickey Garcia, and I have the power to create all the content i want.

Tag list: @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox  @mercurio23 @shrimping-for-all @abaker74

(if you want to be tagged in everything TGM, let me know <3)

@purplevortexx this is the first appearance of our latina queen. Her time to shine has come.

Mickey Garcia had a big secret. Well, it wasn't a secret. Nobody had asked him if he was married. And he just didn't share that tiny detail. 

He loved his wife. More than words could ever express. They met in high school, she was the new member of Mickey's D&D club. Well, it wasn't his club. He was just a member, just like her when she joined. Mickey swears that when Y/N walked through the doors of that small, messy basement they used as a club, he knew. 

That was the girl he was going to marry. 

He asked her hand in marriage when his training period in the Naval Academy ended. She said yes. He laughed, she cried. 

Life was good. 

Every time Mickey was deployed, Mickey's grandma, Camila, took care of her. Abuelita Garcia had a room prepared for her nieta (granddaughter) and tried to feed her every time Y/N was a bit sad or missed Mickey. The wizzo loved that his family adored his wife as much as he did. And he also liked how Y/N's cheeks were a bit chubbier whenever he came back from deployment, due to the big amount of tamales that Camila made her eat. 

"Camila wants me to gain weight. She said I'm too thin, and I need to eat more, so I can be a good mom in the future," Y/N told Mickey in one of their FaceTime calls. 

"Amor, she literally told me that every day for the first 18 years of my life" he answered, chuckling at the thought of Camila filling his wife's plate with more tamales. 

"That's where the cute cheeks come from!" 

"I don't have cute cheeks" he whined. 

"Whatever you wanna say, babe" 

-

Mickey had missed his girls a lot during the uranium mission. He didn't want to bring Y/N with him, knowing that he was only going to be there for a few weeks, then he'll be back home. 

But now that the mission is over, and he is staying in this base for a while, he needs to tell the squad that he's married. 

He can imagine Phoenix's face already. 

"So, my dear buddies," says Rooster, setting down his beer. "I think it's time to know more about each other's lives. You know about my life already but… i don't know anything about you" 

"I mean, we only know about your life because this mission was more like a soap opera than a life-threatening experience" Bob jokes, grabbing more peanuts. 

"Bob, you're not as quiet and shy as I thought you'd be," Hangman comments, moving to play his turn at darts. Phoenix is trying to beat him, even though it's virtually impossible. 

"I never said I was. You just saw a guy with glasses and thought that he would be the average quiet kid that sits at the end of the class" the wizzo retorts. 

"Which you totally are," Phoenix affirms. 

"Hey!" 

Mickey smiles, knowing how much Y/N would love to be with these amazing aviators. She is such an amazing woman… Mickey can't wait for the squad to meet her. They keep talking and sharing parts of their lives, and just when it's Fanboy's turn to speak, a little, dark haired baby girl runs into the bar, looking around and trying to find the person she's been missing for weeks.

"DADDY!" the little girl yells, sprinting towards his father, her curls bouncing up and down at every step. 

Fanboy, recognizing the voice of his little girl, kneels down, opening his arms for his princess. Once she's secured in his dad's arms, Mickey gets up, looking at the dumbfounded aviators in front of him. 

"Did she just call you Daddy?" Coyote questions, looking between baby Garcia and Mickey. "You know what, don't answer. You're identical" 

"Yeah, nine months inside me, and she grows up to be her father's spitting image" Y/N says, appearing next to Fanboy. "She missed you so much that we had to come early" 

Mickey looks at his wife and then at his daughter, not surprised to hear that his pequeña princesa (little princess) couldn't wait more to see him. She is daddy's girl. 

"Mi princesa, ¿no pudiste esperar más?" (My princess couldn't wait longer?)

"Daddy, I missed you so much" the little girl pouts, looking at his father with the same big, dark brown eyes she had inherited from him. 

"Cam, amor, ¡sólo tenías que esperar dos días más!" (Cam, love, you only had to wait two more days!) 

"That was too much time," she protests. 

"Pendejo que no piensas saludar a tu abuela o qué" says a woman standing behind Y/N. The very same woman his daughter got her name from. (Idiot, are you not going to say hi to your grandma?)

"Oh my, abuela. I didn't see you there!" Explains Mickey, a bit scared of his grandma's reaction for not hugging her. It doesn't matter how much of a grown man Mickey is. He would always be a bit scared of his grandma. 

"Who are these people, hmm? And why are all of them so skinny! Look at this girl" Camila pinches Phoenix's cheek. "You have to eat more! I have tamales in the car, do you want some?" 

"Jesus, abuelita. Don't do that to my friend" 

"Payback, why aren't you fazed by this?" Hangman's words make the whole Garcia family laugh, just then moving to hug Cam and kiss her chubby cheeks. "I'm the godfather" 

"You mean to tell me that you knew that Fanboy is not only married, but a father, and you never shared any of that information with the rest?" Rooster exposes, feeling really, really betrayed. 

And as if Fanboy and Payback had rehearsed the answer for hours, they both say it at the same time. "You never asked!" 

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #mickey garcia fluff #mickey fanboy garcia x reader #mickey garcia x reader #mickey garcia #mickey fanboy garcia #fanboy x reader #fanboy x you #top gun fanboy #fanboy fluff

[sahanaswrld]

"unattainable" j.h.s

self-indulgent minific (also posted on my group account! @multivrses )

summary: jake told himself that tonight would be a night dedicated to only him and his fellow pilots, but when you walk in, side-by-side with none other than bradley rooster bradshaw, he decides he needs to have you.

or where you are rooster's sister who catches jake hangman seresin's eye

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x Y/n Bradshaw

warnings: implied sex, cursing, not proofread

word count: 822

do not repost, translate, or copy my work without my permission.

it's not like Jake Seresin wanted to be known as a playboy, he just wanted to let off some steam with girls who may have thought it was going to lead into something... bigger, something... more permanent. Jake wasn't looking for that. so tonight, he decided no girls, just him and his fellow pilots. that was until he spotted a gorgeous woman walking into the Hard Deck with none other than his "rival" Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.

when Jake first laid his eyes on you, he had to do a quick double take. Bradley could pull? was his first thought, until he noticed the similarities between you two. your noses looked pretty similar, along with the few other things he could spot from this distance.

against his better judgement, he decided to go up to you guys, where you were being swarmed with the whole crew of aviators, Phoenix taking the lead and introducing you to everyone. once phoenix got around to him however, he took matters into his own hands.

"Hangman, darling." he said, holding out his hand with his cheeky (normally) pantie dropping smirk

you, however, looked him up and down, then looked at rooster with a raised eyebrow as if to say who is this guy

"ignore him Y/n, he always thinks he's the shit" phoenix said whilst rolling her eyes, which earned a few chuckles throughout the group

"Y/n, Brad's sister." you said while shaking his hand

before Hangman could say another word thought, you were whisked away by Phoenix taking you over to Penny to get some fresh drinks. hangman made his way back over to the pool table along with Coyote, Bob, Payback, and Fanboy.

you could feel his gaze burning into you even at the bar with your brother and your newest friend, Phoenix, who told you to call her Tash (short for Natasha) you couldn't lie though, he was attractive. though you promised yourself to never date a navy pilot because of the pain you had witnessed first hand from the death of your father, and the fear for your brother whenever he was called on missions, maybe it was okay to give this Hangman guy a shot.

after some ime, you found yourself waiting at the bar alone for your, now, fourth round of drinks for you and the pilots. Penny flashed you an apologetic smile and told yuo that she would be right to you right after she finished up with some other customers. you were twirling Bradley's credit card between your fingers until you felt a presence behind you,

"Did they leave you all alone darling?"

no doubt. it was Hangman. you twirled around coming face to face with his playful smirk

"Well, i guess i'm not alone anymore, hm?" oh he liked that. his smirk grew noticeably wider, this time reaching his twinking green eyes. they were truly captivating.

"I'm down to keep you company all night sweets" he said with a wink

you just rolled your eyes with that comment and turned around to Penny coming right towards you.

"What can i get you Y/n?" she said, giving a confused look as to why Hangman was standing so close. you just brused it off and gave your order, handing the credit card along with her.

Hangman waited with you until you got your drinks and walked back over to your little group with his arm slung around your shoulders.

as you approached the group, Tash gave you the same look that Penny did, that confused and quite concerned look. Rooster however, was more verbal.

"Hangman what the fuck are you doing with my sister."

"Well I was just-" you cut him off before he could anger Rooster

"He was waiting for the drinks with me Brad, he didn't pull any weird shit don't worry. He was actually pretty nice." you said while passing the round of drinks you got over to the aviators, the actions got a few quiet thanks. You could tell Bradley was about to speak again but you just shut him up with a look.

Tash guided Rooster and the others over to the piano, you knew Bradley was good and just loved to show off. surprisingly Hangman didn't join them, instead he walked over to the corner. you thought about going over with bradley, but decided against it. what's the worst thing that could happen witht his Hangman guy?

many things apparantly. how you found yourself tangled in his sheets, completely naked, with an equally naked Hangman lying next to you was a mystery. all you remembered was a few drinks with him, learning his name was Jake, and the drive over to his place. the rest was a blur but you could already figure out what you did.

as you sat up, Jake's eyes started to flutter. once his vision cleared all he said was:

"Shit, Rooster is gonna fuckin kill me."

#jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman fic #top gun maverick #top gun hangman #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine #implied smut #fluff #top gun maverick fluff #top gun fluff #bradley bradshaw #rooster's sister #y/n bradshaw #top gun #hangman top gun

[callsign-joyride]

I'll Be Home For Christmas | Bob Floyd

Summary: Bob surprises you and your kids on Christmas.

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Content warnings: A tiny bit of angst, a ton of tooth-rotting fluff, implied sex

Deployments were always the hardest. Bob told you about his new deployment at the end of October.

"I won't be able to be here for Thanksgiving, and it doesn't look like I'll be home for Christmas, either. I'm really sorry," he said after helping you put the kids to bed.

"Don't worry about it. We'll celebrate when you come home."

"Yeah, but by the time I get back, the kids will be back in school. I don't want them to feel left out when everyone else is talking about what they got."

"Can we talk about this in the morning? I'm really tired and I'd rather not start an argument right now."

Bob nodded his head and motioned for you to get in the bed with him. Explaining this to the kids was hard. Bob had been deployed around holidays, but it wasn't often and they usually weren't considered very important.

"Okay, I'll try to talk to you and the kids as much as I can. Call Rooster if you need anything, okay? I love you," he said as you dropped him off at the port.

"I love you, too."

You shared a quick kiss before he checked in and boarded the carrier. Thanksgiving came and went. That was somewhat easy to celebrate because you celebrated with the members of the Dagger Squad who weren't deployed. Rooster helped you and the kids decorate the Christmas tree when the time came.

You knew that you would be emotional on Christmas Eve. As the end of Home Alone played, you started to get the kids ready for bed. Rooster and Coyote helped you wrap gifts and put them under the tree. They didn't leave until well after you had decided that it was time for you to start getting ready for bed. You wore one of Bob's old Navy t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants as pajamas because the shirt slightly smelled of him.

The sound of tires rolling into the gravel driveway woke you up. Probably Rooster. He's always forgetting something. If you listened hard enough, you could hear the front door open and close. As you rolled over, you could hear footsteps coming up the stairs. Maybe he left something in the guest room? You nearly jumped out of your skin as the door to your bedroom opened. It was hard to figure out who was standing in the doorway because it was so dark.

"Oh my God. Robbie, is that you?" You whispered.

"Merry Christmas," he said as he closed the door. "I didn't wake the kids, did I?"

You turned on your lamp and the two of you waited for noise to come from either of the kids' rooms.

"I don't think so. Now, come here so that I can kiss your face."

Bob didn't hesitate in getting in bed with you. The two of you had been so happy to be in each other's arms again that it was hard not to giggle during sex. Both of you woke up as the sun rose, and it was moments like these where you were glad that you had told the kids that they had to wait for you to get them because you were the last stop on Santa's list.

After you both showered, you quietly snuck Bob down the stairs. You told him to sit in front of the tree before you stuck a bow on his head and ran upstairs.

"Okay, you have to be quiet when you go downstairs. There's a special surprise waiting for you," you told the kids.

"We'll be extra quiet!" Your five-year-old exclaimed. You suppressed a laugh before guiding them down the stairs. She was the first person around the corner that led to the living room, and your two-year-old son was right behind her.

"Daddy!" She squealed. You smiled as you watched her leap into Bob's arms. The day went on swimmingly as the kids opened their gifts and started to play with them.

"You didn't tell me how you were able to come home early. I'm obviously not complaining but I thought you were supposed to be gone for another three weeks," you said at the end of the day.

"I pulled some strings with the admirals. That's all you need to know."

You let out a soft chuckle before snuggling into Bob's side while A Charlie Brown Christmas played on the TV in the background.

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd imagine #christmas fluff #top gun maverick #bob x reader #top gun maverick x reader #top gun

[marksbear]

hi I just found your blog and it’s amazing!!! Could I request a hangman from top gun story were he is crushing on mavericks son who works at the bar but maverick goes hard on him because he doesn’t know it’s his son

Hello and welcome to my blog! And thank you for calling it amazing! Thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy the fic!

I'm going to make it headcanons!

HANGMAN X MAVERICKS SON READER

🛩 Him and the gang went to the bar and when he saw you in the distance his mouth immediately fall.

🛩 He watches you from afar making up different scenarios how to get your attention. Phoenix catches him staring at you and she smirks to herself knowing Maverick is gonna give him a hell of a time.

🛩 Jake told coyote to play for him during pool as he leaves the group to go get your attention. He sits right where you're working and gives you his signature Hollywood smirk with a wink. "Hi handsome~"

🛩 "Why the hell is he flirting with Y/n?" Rooster says watching him wink at you. "Whos Y/n" Fanboy asks. "Mavericks son..." Bob answers his question watching you two from afar.

🛩 When Jake spoke to you for the first time you knew who he was. You knew the whole group just didn't make an effort to go up to them and talk. Since this may be the last time he ever talks to you why not play along with the flirting. "Hey there pretty boy."

🛩 Wait your flirting back with him? And you think hes pretty? His heart feels like it's gonna jump out of his chest. He wasn't prepared when you called him pretty or really flirted back. He leans in on the bar ordering a drink.

🛩 "So pretty boy. Why are you here at this lovely bar?" The way you call him a pretty boy makes his heart do back flips. His face becomes a beat red as he stares down at his drink. To fixated on you calling him pretty he doesn't answer your question.

🛩 "Hey pretty boy, I asked you a question." You hook your finger below his chin raising his head up so he can look you in the eyes. "I---uhm to celebrate yeah! Celebrate" His answer was a bit shaking until he got himself together and back to his cocky self.

🛩 From afar it looks like you two are about to kiss. Him looking submissive at you with lovely dovey eyes. While you have a smirk on your face moving your hand to his cheek caressing it while you stare at his lips and eyes.

🛩 Sadly that moment is ruined when Maverick walks in the bar.

🛩 Time feels like its frozen. Rooster and Coyote try to signal Hangman to stop flirting and come here. Bob and Fanboy are sitting down together on a couch mouth wide open after realizing Maverick is here. Phoenix and Payback laughing and clapping knowing this is gonna be good.

🛩 Y/n and Hangman are in their own little world laughing with each other and flirting. Everything is perfect with the little dirty remarks or the longing flirty touches. Y/n writes his number on a napkin and hands it to Jake. "You know... I haven't caught your name yet?" Jake says taking the napkin putting it in his pocket. "Y/n. Nice to meet you Jake. I gotta get back to work, so call me." Y/n gives Jake one last drink on the house and a sweet kiss on the cheek before going in the back room.

🛩 Jake watches Y/n leave with love in his eyes smiling dreamily and holding the cheek you kissed like a teenage girl. He is way to bust thinking how you two will be the greatest couple on this planet. Not even thinking that he never told you his name.

🛩 Jake downs his drink turning around seeing the gang's shocked face and Mavericks pissed one. "Oh lord what did I do." Jake mumbles to himself.

🛩 "Everyone outside.Hangman you stay." Maverick orders everyone. They all give Jake "good luck" smiles and "You fucked up." Looks on their faces not giving Jake any who did what he did.

"Why were you flirting with the bartender?"

"Because I thought he was hot and I went to go shoot my shot. And plus I knew I could get him." Jake answers truthfully with false cockiness because in reality he was a mess when he was talking to you.

"Don't talk about him as if he's just some desperate boy who you needed to save."

"I'm not trying to talk about him like that... I'm just saying I knew he would be perfect for me. I mean cmon me and him are practically made for each other."

"Stop being so cocky. I know he can have a lot better than you."

"Oh yeah? We both know that's a lie. I'm going to be the best thing ever for him."

"Leave him alone. He doesn't need to deal with your antics." Maverick tries to plea getting annoyed from the young adult trying to date his son.

"Says who?"

"His father."

"Well I don't see the guy arguing with me. Who is he?"

"Me. His father is arguing with you because he knows you're gonna get his son in a troubled relationship that's most likely gonna end up in heartbreak."

"His name is Y/n M/n Mitchell. My son."

And that caused Hangman cocky smirk to drop. No fucking way your his son.

THE END?! Unless y'all want a part two!

#hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #top gun maverick #x male reader #top gun x male reader #top gun maverick x male reader #male reader #top gun headcanons

[siempre-bucky]

water droplets

Javy 'Coyote' Machado x afab!Reader

Summary: a slice of dirty domestic bliss with Javy after he comes out of a shower.

warnings: SMUT 18+ only, a fascination with the water on his chest after a shower

wc: 1.7k

a/n: so @mothdruid and I have this well thought out pet headcanon for Javy and I just had to write something about it. It wasn't supposed to be smut but Tarzan just does that to a person.

As soon as the shower's water turned off in the bathroom, Tally started thwacking you with the wag of her tail. Even covered by a thick duvet, the grey pitbull's tail was lethal. "Is daddy done?" You giggled, moving your legs and patting her head. 

Javy emerged from the adjoining bathroom, a royal blue towel hanging low from his hips, the steam from the shower following him. Your eyes immediately went to his Adonis belt, then slowly made their way upward to his abs, his dark skin still glistening from the hot water. "Hey," you greeted, slow and drawn out with a smirk etched on your lips. 

Javy noticed the shift in your body language. He formed a lopsided grin, "Hey," he responded, slowly making his way to the foot of the bed. 

Tally bounced up and ran to him, softly whining to get his attention. The aviator laughed and patted her head. "Why don't we put the kids to bed?" You suggested, bringing your knees higher before letting your legs spread apart. 

A heat crawled up his neck, an erection growing beneath the towel. He made a whistle and excitedly went towards the door, Tally barked and ran with him while Cherry lazily got up off the floor, "Come on! Come on! Out," he told them happily, opening the door. 

The two dogs walked out and sat right outside, the big brown eyes staring up at Javy. "I'm sorry," he whispered to them, "I promise I'll let you back in." 

He gently closed the door, trying not to make eye contact with the persuasive looks of his dogs. "Javy," you whined wantingly, sending a shock wave of pleasure down his spine. 

"I'm comin', baby, don't worry," he hummed as he walked back to the bed. He ripped the duvet off your legs and settled in between them. "So pretty," he remarked, swiftly ridding himself of the towel and attaching his lips to your neck. 

One of your hands clings to the back of his head while the other reaches down and strokes his semi-hard cock. "Fuck," he grits, rolling his hips into your hand. 

His lips went upward, tongue flicking the sensitive spot behind your ear. He swore he heard you moan at the contact…but it didn't sound like you. Javy detached his lips and looked at the bedside table. 

Sitting on top was his favorite little buddy. The hairless cat looked at him with unimpressed golden eyes. "Skelly," he grumbled. 

You giggled and released the hold you had on him, "Forgot one," you chuckled. Javy rolled his eyes and kissed your temple before scooping the little cat up. 

Javy straightened out the knitted sweater he made for him and walked quickly to the door. Once he opened it he was met with wagging tails and hopeful eyes of the two canines. "We're not done," he spoke quietly, placing Skelly in between the two larger dogs. Tally sniffed his back while Skelly rubbed up against her leg. "Watch your brother," he commanded, before shutting the door behind them. 

He turned to see your wolfish grin, sitting back on your knees at the end of the bed—waiting. A crooked smile appeared on his face, his chin tilting downward. "Hey, Coyote," you dragged out, cocking your head slowly. 

Javy smirked and sauntered over, allowing your eyes to take in every detail of his sculpted body. You squirmed, of course he was hot, but it was the drops of water that still clung to his chest that did you in. You stared at his torso until he took a curled finger and lifted your chin to meet his gaze. "Hey," he purred. 

Shifting, you rose on your knees and kept your eyes locked with his as you leaned forward, kissing the skin just below his pec. Your kisses went higher, a small moan escaping his plush lips as he saw your tongue lick the beads of water. "Jesus," he groaned, putting his hand on the nape of your neck. 

"That towel of yours did a shitty job," you joked, kissing yet another drop of water off him. A drop near his collarbone started to fall, leaving a small line of his skin glistening. You flattened your tongue on his sternum, licking the water until you reached the crook of his neck where you began to place sinful kisses upward towards his ear. 

He shuttered, eyes fluttering closed. "Good thing you have me, Javy," you whispered. 

Javy wasted no time as your words rang in his ear. He grabbed your hips and pushed you down on the mattress, swiftly removing the thin clothing on your bottom half. He thought for a moment about taking off the old large Navy shirt he bought you as he ran his fingers over the frayed hem. Nah, he thought, he wanted variety when it came to things he could grab while he fucks you from behind. 

"Don't know what I'd do without you." He swooped in, capturing your lips in a rushed kiss, his hands roaming your warm skin.  You grinned and pulled away, wrapping your arms and legs around him. "I love you," he whispered. 

"I love you too," you whispered back while his hand gripped your thighs, feeling the warmth on his palm while his lips attacked the side of your neck. 

His hand danced along your skin until he reached the apex of your thighs. His middle and ring finger grazed along your wet folds. "Already so wet for me, amor," he laughed, amused at how quickly he could get you like this. 

You bucked your hips in an attempt to get his fingers to graze your clit. "Javy," you groan weakly, rolling your hips against his hand. "Please." 

The aviator laughed against your warm skin. "Don't want me to make you cum on my tongue?" He teased, tongue poking out to swipe along your neck, followed by his lips. 

A shiver went through your body as your hand darted down to his cock. Javy moaned as he felt your hand wrapped around him, slowly stroking him up and down. "Baby," he moaned, teeth sinking into your neck.  

You didn't let up, taking the head of his cock and running up and down your pussy at a brutally slow pace: the most sensitive part of him feeling how wet you were just for him. "Javy," you mewled, clenching around nothing from the anticipation, "Javy—it's all right there, just for you, meu amor. Yours." 

The clouds around Javy's brain finally went away and he eagerly shooed your hand off him. He slowly dragged the tip over your clit, making you whine before pushing in. Your nails dug into the beautiful muscles of his shoulder blades, teeth sinking into his shoulder. After all this time you always forgot how good he filled you, a pleasurable pain making all the better. 

"You feel so fucking good," he groaned, watching how you took him inch by inch. His fingertips pressed into your hips, sinking you lower into the mattress. "So fucking deep, baby."

"Fuck me, Javy," you mewled, clenching around him. He shuddered, a low growl emitting from his lips. 

You gasped at the harsh sudden pistoning of his hips. The pornographic slapping of skin made scalding heat run up your face. He smiled devilishly down at you, satisfied with your twisted expression. "Look at you," he snickered. "Already so fucked out for me." 

"Javy." You reached for your clit. His hand flew to wrap around your wrist, kissing your knuckles. 

"Not yet." 

Javy pulled out, quickly turning you over and bringing your ass up, hand pushing down on your back. He pushed up your shirt, admiring how your ass looked at this angle. He gave your left cheek a light smack before slamming back in, gripping your shirt, and resuming his brutal pace. 

Pretty noncoherent words fell off your wanting lips; Javy would do anything to hear them. "Harder." 

"Harder?" He panted.

"I can take it, Javy. I'm so close," you told him weakly. 

Javy balled your shirt and pulled your back to his chest, his hand snaking around your throat. "Gonna make a mess all over my cock?" 

"Mhm," you whimpered, clutching to his forearm. The knot in your belly was tightening, and he could feel your uneven breathing against his arm. Javy dragged his free hand down to your clit, rubbing it in vigorous circles. "Jesus! Holy fuck!" You cried out at the sudden waves of pleasure, instinctively galling forward, but he didn't let you. 

He pecked at your cheek and warm puffs of air coming from his nose tickled your skin. "Where do you want me?" He asked. 

"Inside…cum inside me, Javy." 

Javy timed it well, his own release racing to a finish. His fingers circled faster, and his cock drove into your pussy deeper—just the way you liked. "I-I'm gonna cum," he warned. 

And just like that, your orgasm washed over you harshly. Your brain went numb and your legs even more as Javy continued to thrust inside. You whimpered as he rubbed slower, focused on his own release, "Take what you need, Javy. Cum for me." 

He went faster. Your poor cunt quickly became overstimulated, but you didn't mind. The ropes of warm cum filling your aching core was forgiveness in itself. Javy slowly pulled out, cum following close behind and dribbling down the insides of your thighs. "So pretty," he panted, crawling to the front of you and taking you in his arms. "Are you alright, cheri?" 

You nodded and let him cuddle you against his heaving chest. "I'm good," you breathed, "very good." 

Javy pulled away and kissed your damp forehead, "We should shower," he suggested. You silently agreed and slowly made your way off the bed, not sure if you trusted your legs from how wobbly they'd become. 

You looked down to look at the aftermath on your thighs, giggling once you saw a hairless paw bat at the air underneath the door. "They're lonely," you joked, touching your boyfriend's arm to get his attention. 

Javy looked at the door and noticed one brown and one black nose pressed against the crack, on each side of Skelly's paw. "That was ten minutes tops," he laughed. 

"Let the kids back in and I'll turn on the water," you told him, kissing his bicep before walking into the bathroom. 

Javy opened the front door and the three animals looked at him cheerfully, even Skelly's eyes looked a little brighter at the sight. "Wasn't that bad, now was it? Come on, the bed's all yours—again."

#javy machado #javy machado x reader #javy machado x you #javy machado smut #javy machado imagine #coyote x reader #coyote x you #top gun #top gun maverick

[cherrycola27]

To Hec and Back

Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, exotic dancers, allusions to smut. 18+ Minors DNI

Previous Part

...........................................

Part 10

Everyone thought you and Jake were crazy for trying to plan a wedding in three months, but somehow, you did it. It was October, and your wedding was a week away.

Jake's family was flying in today, and the two of you were at the airport to greet them. They were so excited to see you again and ready for the wedding. You'd spent the first part of the week with your bridal party and future mother in law and grandmother in law getting pampered with mani- pedis, massages, and skin care. They were so excited to take you out for your Bachelorette night on Thursday before the rehearsal dinner on Friday and the wedding on Saturday.

However, it was Wednesday, the night of Jake's Bachelor party.

You had already called and arranged it with Marco, the owner of the club you had danced at. He agreed to shut it down for the night as a favor to you. Some of your dancer friends agreed to come in and help you with your plan. Of course, you had offered to pay them, but no one was willing to accept your money, all of them claiming it was their gift to you.

Jake and the boys had just come in and taken their seats. Kara, the cocktail waitress, handed each of them a glass of Jake's favorite scotch, except for Bob, who had a crisp Dr. Pepper.

"Nervous?" Amethyst asked you as you peeked out to them.

"A little. I mean, I've done this hundreds of times but it feels— different" You breath out.

"It's your last time doing this. And you're doing it for your fiancée—it is different" She jokes with you.

The house lights flicker, signaling that it is time to get into position.

You adjust your cowgirl costume and take your mark. You hear DDawg announcing the set. You take a deep breath. The lights dim, and the opening beats of the first song begin as the curtain opens.

You had decided to do a group number with the girls. Then a few of them would do a few solos and small groups. The night would end with your final dance.

You could hear Jake's laugh as soon as he recognized the tune of "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy" blast through the speakers. You made your way up to the front and center of the group.

Jake had a huge smile plastered on his face. You also noticed that all the boys of the Dagger Squad had their jaws hanging open when they recognized you.

Jake neglected to tell them that the strip club they were going to was yours, and he never told them about your secret.

It took them all a few minutes to recover before they were cheered and letting bills fly.

As the bridge of the song played, all of you exited off the stage and found a cowboy to ride. Yours was waiting for you with open arms.

As you gave him a lap dance, Jake plucked your hat off of your head and placed it on his with a wink.

The song began to wind down as all of you made your way back to the stage for the final bars. As the music faded out, everyone collected their spoils and made their way back to the changing room.

A pop song filled the speakers as everyone scrambled to change for their next sets.

You could only imagine the conversation Jake was having right now

.......................

"Jake! How come you never told us, man!" Coyote chastises him as the dancers exit. "Seriously, bro! I can't believe Hecate is a stripper!" He shakes his head in disbelief.

"It wasn't my secret to tell." Jake defends himself as he sips his scotch.

"How did you even find out about her doing this?" Rooster ask him.

"You remember the day I called her a bitch and she threw a drink in my face?" Jake asks.

"With great joy." Bob smirks.

"Well, I came here after and stumbled upon her set, and the rest is history." Jake shrugged.

"So every weekend when you said you had plans—you were here?" Yale asks.

"Yes," Jake sighs as he finishes his drink. The cocktail waitress is quick to bring him another. But she tells him that per your request, his limit is three. She winks at him before sauntering off.

Soon, the stage is filled with girls again, but you're missing. He wonders where you are and what you have planned as the night glides on.

..........................

You can hear the music from another song fade. It's just about time for the last dance of the night. Your last dance. Something you had choreographed just for Jake.

You looked yourself over in the mirror. Your hair hung in loose curls. You had sultry, smokey sliver eye makeup, and your favorite deep red Mac lipstick in the shade "Sin," graced your lips.

You wore a gorgeous pair of silver glitter heels and black sheer tights. A black bodysuit with the constellations of the night hugged your frame. It was more modest with long sleeves, but the plunging neckline made it just sexy enough.

You topped your look off with a silver and rhinestone halo headband of stars and moons. You truly looked and felt like a goddess.

You walked out of the dressing room and took you position at the side of the stage. The shadow screen had been lowered down for the first part of your dance.

You knew it wasn't a full house out there, but the fact that your fellow pilots, you coworkers from the club, and most importantly Jake, were going to be watching you, had your stomach in knots.

You heard DDawg's voice through the speakers announcing you one last time, "Ladies and gentlemen, The Oasis is proud to present, in her very last performance—Hecate."

You could hear the cheers for you. Soon, the first beats of "Take Me to Church" filled the room. While this didn't seem like the typical song you would dance to, its lyrics held meaning for you. The tune was perfect for what you were about to do.

You strutted out on the stage. You were backlight, so only your shadowy form was visible.

You began the well rehearsed movements of your routine, flowing with the melody of the song. You expected to hear cheers or shouts, but the only sound was Hoizers haunting voice echoing off the walls.

As an "Amen" rang out and bounced around the room, you climb the pole, almost to the top, but not all the way.

As the string instruments hit, your twist your body in time with them and slide down, landing on your knees just as the first chorus plays and the shadow screen rises up.

The moment it happens, the onlookers cry out for you with cheers and praise.

This is the first time you see everyone. Your eyes immediately land on Jake.

He watches you, enamored with every move your body makes. Even though he's seen you do this dozens of times and knows what it feels like to have you pressed against him in the most erotic way, he can't take his eyes off of you. He knows you're putting on a show just for him.

Jake feels all of the blood in his body rushing south as you crawl across the stage to him. You part his thighs and perch on your knees between him, almost like you're about to pray.

You draw your hands across your form, the black bodysuit accentuating your chest as you arch your back. His eyes never leave you. He can hear the shouts and whistles of the rest of the Dagger boys behind him, but all he can focus on is you.

Your body flows in sync with the music, commanding his attention. He's never seen you dance like this. With such fire, such passion. It's—intimate in a way. Like you're bearing your soul to him.

He watches your hips sway as you return to the stage and climb the pole. Another loud "amen" rings out through the speakers. "Amen!" Rooster whoops out. All Jake can think is, "Amen indeed." He adjusts himself through his trousers. Jake watches your body slide down the pole as another sinful thought about how he would gladly get on his knees and worship you, his goddess, right here in front of everyone if you'd let him.

The song is almost finished, and you prepare yourself for the big finale you have planned.

You elegantly climb the pole to the very top. And stretch your arm out, blowing Jake a kiss. Just as the last notes are being playing, you quickly drop from the top, sliding the whole length of the pole, landing in a split. Just as the bright lights fade to black and the curtain closes

You can hear everyone losing their minds, cheering, yelling, and whistling. You take a deep breath before standing up. The curtain raises again as you step forward to take a bow with tears in your eyes.

Jake rushes forward to embrace you. He's babbling out praise and peppering you with kisses.

Soon, everyone else joins him, and they are complimenting you. You can't help but laugh when Bob comes up to you and says, "Hecate! You were amazing, but I think we are all going to have to go to church after that."

The night ends with you and Jake leaving the club hand in hand to head home. The whole drive, he keeps telling you how amazing you were, but the adrenaline from it all has finally worn off. You fall asleep on the drive home, and he has to cary you inside to tuck you in.

The next morning, you were awoken at five to the sound of Phoenix beating on your door.

"Phoenix! What the fuck!" You scolded as you opened the door. She ignored you, brushing by as she, Halo, Charli, and Savannah all filed into your living room.

"It is five o'clock in the morning. What are all of you doing here?" You asked them.

"We are here to help you get ready for your Bachelorette day!" Phoenix cheered. For the first time, you noticed what they were wearing. All of them were dressed in matching "Bride Tribe" t-shirts and shorts.

"Where are we going? And why do we have to be up so early.

"We are taking you to Disneyland!" Charli squeals.

"Disneyland?" You look at her confused.

"Yes! And rope drop is at eight which means we need to be through security by seven thirty and it's an hour and a half away and I've planned for one bathroom slash food stop so we need to be out the door and in the car in thirty minutes!" Phoenix proclaims.

She grabs a bag of clothes for you as you clamber back to the room to change. You're wearing a white shirt with the word "Bride" across the front and "Mrs. Seresin" on the back. She's picked out some black athletic shirts for you. You tie your hair into a ponytail and slide on some tennis shoes.

When you go back to the living room to ask her if you need to back a bag, Savannah happily presents you with a mini backpack with all of the essentials you will need for the day. You grab your phone and go to kiss Jake goodbye.

"Where are they taking you?" He mumbles, still half asleep.

"Disneyland." You tell him. "Have fun." He says before kissing you and rolling back over.

Phoenix ushers everyone out as you lock the door. You're on the road five minutes earlier than planned, which makes her happy.

You settle into the passengers seat and turn on a playlist of Disney songs before turning to Savannah.

"Wait, where are Carter and Sloan?" You ask her.

"With their dad and my parents. This is an adult girls day, and I don't think any of us watch to chase around kids. Plus, we are taking them right after Christmas. So it's a kid free, stress free day." She informs you.

"Well, okay then." You laugh as the SUV rolls down the highway.

The minute you get to the park, Phoenix puts a set of wedding ears on tour heads and straps a magic band to your wrist. She goes over the plan for the day with everyone. She has pulled out all the stops to make sure you maximize your time.

The four of you have an amazing day in the park. Meeting characters, eating all the Mickey shaped things, indulging in a few day drinks, and riding all the rides.

By the time you leave, you are all thoughrly exhausted but happy.

For their final surprise of the evening, you learn that the four of you are staying in the Grand Californian for the night and having a spa day the next day before returning for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow evening.

All of you tumble into bed with smiles on your faces.

After getting pamper and wedding ready, the four of you made it back home with a few hours to spare.

You were so excited telling Jake about your trip and everything you did. He loved the way your eyes lit up when you told him about it.

......................

Much to your surprise, the rehearsal dinner went off without a hitch. Everything ran smoothly as the wedding party ran through the movements and motions in preparation for the big day tomorrow.

The only part that bothered you, was the fact that you were walking down the aisle alone.

You were never in one place for long enough to have a family, so there was no one you could ask.

Maverick and Jake Sr. had both offered, but it just didn't seem right.

The only person who made sense was Rooster. He was the closest thing to family you had. You'd known him for most of your adult life, and he was like a brother to you. But he was one of Jake's groomsmen, so he was out of the question to.

You did your best not to let that put a damper on your mood. Everything would be okay.

Tomorrow you were going to marry the love of your life.

Tomorrow, you were going to be Mrs. Seresin.

So, I lied babes, there us at least one more part after this. There is still so much more I want to include!

Tag List: @pisupsala @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme @arson-tm @sebsxphia @potato-girl99981 @caitsymichelle13 @lillyrosenight @callsign-hummingbird @hecate-steps-on-me @writeroutoftime @afterglowsb-tch13 @heyoimjordy @phoenixssugarbaby @hypatia93 @bradshawseresinbabe @je-suis-prest-rachel @teacupsandtopgun @boringusername3 @starlightstories @daggerspare-standingby @utterlyhopeful-fics @talkfastromance4 @fighterpilothoe @t-nd-rfoot @phoenix1388 @abaker74 @gigisimsonmars @emorychase @Ok-denice @greatszu @shawnsblue @angelbabyange @sadpetalsstuff @softmullet @cowboybarbie @shewritesfiction13 @sweetlittlegingy @rogersbarnesxx @rintheemolion @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox

#cherrycola27 #top gun maverick #top gun #hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman top gun #hangman smut #lt. jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin #top gun smut #tgm #tgm fanfiction #tgm smut #tgm fic #top gun 2 #to hec and back

[daughterofthereaper02]

Can you do a maverick x reader in the new top gun movie where they are a pilot too and they’re in a secret relationship and it gets outed to the team somehow? Maybe they are secretly married?

A/N: YES!!!! Ah this is going to be great!!!! I know its a little short but I didn’t want to draw it out and make it seem boring.

Title: We Were Found Out

You rolled over in bed as your alarm went off. You shut it off and found your husband still asleep, you rolled your eyes. You both had to be at Top Gun soon, you were both being called back to Top Gun, the only difference was you were being called to preform the mission and he was being called to teach it. You had kept your relationship under wraps and you kept your last name so there were no suspicions, the only one who new you were married was Iceman and anyone else to see your file. It wasn't to be mentioned however by Ice's orders, he knew you two could work together without getting your relationship in the way.

You kissed Pete to wake him up "Come on love, you have to come teach us brats something" you mumbled as he groaned. He suddenly grabbed you and flipped you over, kissing you deeply, "Mhmm, maybe we should just stay in bed. Forget the mission that we know nothing about" he grinned down at you. You shook your head and pushed him off, "Nope, some of us have clean records Captain Mitchell" you grinned while getting out of bed. "If you move quick we can share a quick shower!" you called before running into the bathroom.

Two hours later you were sitting with everyone else, waiting to find out why you were recalled. When Pete explained the mission, you paled and met his eyes, your face made it clear that you were going on that mission. When it came to the mission you were both terrified for each other but also knew you were capable pilots.

It wasn’t until after the mission that the team found you both out, it was ‘slipped’ by some jealous women with access to files. You both were just enjoying a day at your house, snuggled up on your back porch when your phone began to go off rapidly. You were asleep so Pete had checked your phone and found texts from Phoenix, Bob, Rooster, and Hangman. Well, Payback, Fanboy, and Coyote texted also but those four were the main ones. They were asking if it was true, almost harassing you for answers. Pete woke you up “Baby, I don’t know how but our marriage was leaked” he told you. You groaned, burying his head in his chest “I am so sorry Pete” you said, “I didn’t want people to bother you about this” you said quietly. “Hey now, this can be good, now we never have to hide” he said “And now I can drive you to work on my bike” he smirked at you, trying to make you laugh. You grinned and nodded, “Should we just invite everyone over and tell them everything?” you asked and he nodded.

Two hours later, you explained it all to your friends and they saw the photos of you both on the walls. You also squashed down the possible accusations of you only being chosen for the mission because you were his wife, pointing out that was more of a reason for you to not go and you were the only one who finished in time originally.

Now that you both didn’t have to hide, everyone noticed how much happier you both were, especially when wearing your wedding bands.

#Top Gun #top gun: maverick #maverick x y/n #maverick x reader #maverick #pete 'maverick' mitchell #pete mitchell #pete mitchell x reader

[aki-draws-things]

@oh-surprise-its-me

So, I managed to translate that. It's for.a prompt challenge I'm a Italian h/c writing group. It's gonna be some fun prompts I guess!!

There's some differences from usual au, minor. Like mav not knowing Chris yet for unknown reasons... mostly because he came out like that when i wrote...

Anyway. Jake saved a puppy. Javy didn't take it well and he's pretty worried. Chris told Tom to shut up when he's talking.

"I can't stand him."

Ron Kerner briefly looked up and forced out a small smile. Coyote wasn't looking at him, he wasn't even talking to him in all truth. He was staring at the bed, or at the floor. He had started to count the floor joints like they were the most interesting thing in the world for him.

"When he acts like an idiot like that I really, really can't stand him."

"You picked him as your friend, Coyote..."

"Only cause he was alone and looking pitiful."

"Don't lie to me, Coyote."

Javy finally looked up to him. Jesus christ-- he wanted to cry.

"I take back his friend's benefits."

He muttered and Ron finally stood up from the chair amlnd walked closer to the couch Javy claimed.

"Coffee benefits too. And--"

"Go home, Jav. Catch some sleep."

Uh. Not Coyote. Not lieutenant or Machado. Jav. Like he used to do when he and Jake first met and the man in front of him was not Admiral Kerner but only Ron. Father, one of the fathers of Jake. Of his best friend he loved more than anything in the fucking world.

"Eat something, take a shower. And then you get back here."

"No..."

Javy felt so stupid when the words left his mouth. He could always order him to do that. Order him to get out of the room. Sure he could, as an admiral and as a father. But he wouldn't.

"If he dies-- if Jake dies--" he choked a sob, he couldn't even bring himself to finish the sentence. It was so fucked up.

"Okay. Hey, okay, come here. It's alright. Everything will be alright, okay? Do you believe me?"

Javy barely registered he was grasping at his uniform like a drowning man until the same arms that used to carry him and Jake around when they were much younger didn't wrap around his shoulders.

"Everything is gonna be alright. I promise."

If he said that, if he said it like that, Javy could even believe it.

Tom didn't have to knock on the already open door, he did it only because it was the polite thing to do. He watched as his best friend craned his head back to look at his direction and waved.

"You should go home, Ron."

He would've laughed, if that didn't risk to wake the young man sleeping on the couch with his uniform jacket draped as a blanket on him.

"You'll need to say that as an order, Admiral."

Tom muttered something vaguely close to "and still you'd disobey me".

"I called Chris already. Told him there's no need for him to run here."

Ron fished the ozone out of the pocket and looked up to the first flights from Texas, he appreciated the thought, but both men knew he would stay put.

"He'll be here in two days, according to the flight plans here."

After that they stayed quiet. Waiting. what else could they do, after all?

~~~

Jake was only half aware of what was going on around him. He was aware of the scratchy blankets, and the hard pillow, and the needle inside his arm. No pain, not yet at least.

He was aware of the bandages around his torso and head. And about the fact that he knew at heart that his father would've made a mess the moment he found out.

Jake couldn't blame him, he just hoped papa would get to him first. It would be easier to explain what happened. Maybe. But explain what, in the end? That he was a fucking idiot?

"I've heard that good deeds always have consequences."

Jake almost snapped to attention. He only managed to pull at the IV line in his arm.

"Stop it, before Chris gets there and declares it's my fault."

"It's not, admiral, sir."

Jake dared to look at him, there was something different.

"You look... disheveled..."

Iceman tilted his head with a little smile.

"I am. And I'm not here as an admiral."

Right. He was dressed as a civilian. That's what Jake thought was different. And perhaps even worse.

"How long--?"

"Enough for Chris to jump on a flight here from Texas. And enough for me to convince your father to go home for a shower before picking up his husband."

"They're angry, ain't them?"

Iceman sighed. He sat on the chair Ron left only 10 minutes before.

"With you? Oh, never chickie."

Jake tried not to smile. Papa ended up contaging everyone with the nickname over the years. Everyone but uncle Wolf.

"With my husband?"

Jake groaned. It wasn't mavericks fault. It was only his.

"Look, I don't justify or blame anyone here. But I strongly remember Chris saying something along the lines of "keep my boy safe or.i.will ruin you"."

"Pretty sure he was talking about papa..."

"Once, perhaps. The biggest danger he is in right now are papercuts. And Pete jumping him whenever he's at the office."

"You still didn't answer me, though. How long?"

Iceman hesitated. Jake noticed some fresh flowers on a table with a little card. It was too distant to read it properly but he could see the stylized drawing of a paw print.

Coyote.

Iceman followed his eyes.

"It doesn't matter now. Rest, before they all come back."

~~~

Javy took residence on the side of the bed. Was it not for the IV line, and the bandages he could see peak under the shirt he would've lay directly on Jake.

The daggers were scattered around the room, and maverick had just finished asking for answers about what the fuck Jake was thinking in that moment, launching himself madly in the middle of the street and getting hit by a car.

Jake couldn't stop apologizing. He sounded like papa, he knew. But he couldn't stop. Because he was an idiot and he made them worry and--

"Jacob Seresin. You really are going down a very very bad road with those tendencies! Don't force me --no, no Tommy I didn't say you could interrupt me shut up -- don't force me to ground you like a kid because I swear to god I will!"

The blond man, who looked like an older version of Jake, walked in the room like a fury, no knocking, no waiting for permission, telling admiral Kazansky to shut up, even.

Javy briefly turned his head, acknowledged them and returned to his position, an arm over Jake's stomach, his back at the door.

Jake apologized. Again.

And again.

And--

"Jesus... you'll send me to an early grave one of these days you and your papa."

Mav let his.eyes go between the man, his husband amd slider, standing a couple.of steps behind.

"Now, now Chris... let's not exaggerate--"

"I beg your pardon, husband, who should be held responsible if our son has a tendency of throwing himself into danger to save kids and animals and get hit by cars and whatsoever?"

Slider had the decency to look at least, a little flustered. Mav decided he liked him. So very much. The point was, how the hell he missed the memo slider was married? No, scratch that, he knew he was married. How the hell he didn't know he was Hangman's father?!

"I'm sorry..." Jake muttered again, in a voice so low and soft. Javy brushed a hand through his hair. "Won't happen again... I promise."

Somehow, they all knew it was a lie.

#jake hangman seresin #javy coyote machado #ron slider Kerner #tom iceman kazansky #chris seresin #ron slider kerner x chris seresin #icemav #jake&javy friendship #could be read as ship too tho #hurt jake seresin #hurt/comfort #top gun #aki writes

[bayisdying]

Lucky Penny - Chapter Two

A/N: here comes chapter two, aka my problem child. Please enjoy this because I still kinda hate it. As always feedback is much appreciated and encouraged 🥰

The sun wasn't even out yet when two distinct alarms rang out through the bedroom.

"Five more minutes." Fanboy mumbles, cuddling closer to Lucky.

"Come on babe, we can't be late." Lucky tries to wiggle from his tight grasp.

After much convincing (on Lucky's part) and much whining (on Fanboy's part) the pair get ready for their first day back at Top Gun.

"I'll see you there handsome."

"Kick ass today babe."

-----------

When Lucky entered the room, she noticed that most of the seats were occupied. She saw Rueben and Mickey sitting together in the 2nd row. She took a seat next to who she believed was named Coyote and shot him a shy smile. Before they could strike up a conversation they were called to attention and introduced to their instructor - one Pete Mitchell, callsign Maverick.

As the mission was explained, the more uncomfortable Lucky felt. This was literally a mission impossible, there was no way this could be flown. She looked around the room, this was the best of the best, but even they were simply human. This was one people won't come back from.

When they were dismissed for their first dogfighting lesson, Lucky's eyes met Fanboy's. He saw the anxiety in hers, and she saw the excitement in his.

Lucky sat by the radio as Rooster, Payback, and Fanboy took to the air first. She shook her head when the bet was placed, it reminded her of the bets the three of them would set years ago.

-----

"Race ya to the Hard Deck tonight after training. Loser buys the first round." Lucky sent the text with a mission. She wasn't going to let the boys beat her again.

"How about loser has to buy the first two rounds?" Fanboy texted back.

"Deal." Payback responds.

Later that night, the three rushed to their respective cars and sped to the beach side bar. Lucky was the first to arrive, the girl never did the speed limit anyways. She took her seat at the bar, and told Penny she was waiting to see who owed her the drink.

Payback was the next in the door, he was sweating because he had sprinted from his car. He looked around and spotted Lucky, and took a sigh of relief when he didn't see his backseater sitting next to her.

"Penny I'll have a beer, put it on Fanboy's tab." He says once he catches his breath, settling in on a barstool to the left of Lucky.

"Cheers to not being the loser!" Lucky exclaimed as the two friends clinked their drinks together laughing.

Finally Fanboy graced the bar with his presence, and realizing his loss he sighed. "Give me a beer to chase my woes Penny." He very dramatically said, taking the barstool on the right side.

-----

When it was Lucky's turn to fly around with Maverick, she went up with Phoenix and Bob. She'd flown with Phoenix before and loved the other woman like a sister. Bob seemed like a very nice guy and a great WSO. She felt good about this run.

"Alright Phoenix, let's show these boys how to get this done." Lucky said.

"Of course hun, we got this." Phoenix waved back.

Then the dogfight started and they were putting up a damn good showing. Even Maverick commented on their flying styles and how well they were working together.

Unfortunately they both eventually got shot down. Lucky was the unlucky one shot first trying to give Phoenix enough time to get away.

She was cursing her boyfriend in her mind as Hondo counted out her push ups. She was going to make him pay later for this stupid bet.

"191....192....193..." Hondos voice sounded so far away despite being right above her. "...198...199...200. Good job Lucky you're done." The girl collapsed on the ground and groans.

"Hondo, I'm dying."

"No you're just dramatic."

"Rude."

-----

Back at their cottage later that night the couple was snuggled up on the couch watching "Golden Girls" reruns.

"I can't believe you made that damn bet, Roos and I had to do 400 pushups."

"I'm sorry cariño." He says, leaving soft kisses on the top of her head.

"I think you need to make it up to me." She pouts.

"Oh really? What do you have in mind mí amor?"

"I think it's been far too long since you fucked me Garcia."

His eyes light up, as he places kisses all over her face and down her jaw. "I think I can handle that."

-----

They tried so hard to resist their attraction, but that night on the beach changed everything.

Fanboy had asked Lucky to walk down to the beach with him after their third beers. She had accepted because it meant getting out of the sweaty bar that was too loud for her liking.

She took off her shoes and he offered to hold them for her.

"It's pretty out tonight, you can really see the stars." Lucky commented as the two stopped walking for a second to catch their bearings.

Fanboy didn't reply but he looked over at her in total awe.

"Stop staring at me you nerd." She smiled so brightly at him it hurt.

He wasn't thinking clearly at all when he leaned in to the girl he had fallen in love with. She didn't pull away as their lips collided for the first time. That first kiss was messy and rushed but absolutely perfect.

They stood there staring into each others eyes after they parted.

"I'm not sorry" he said.

"I'm not either. Kiss me again."

He did not hesitate to answer that plea, and kissed her hard. Deciding that if he died tomorrow he would die a lucky man.

-----

The Forevers: @kloofspeaks @notyoursbutlewis @roosterscockpit @callsign-milano @callsignthirsty @callmemana @likelyrowdy

The Discord Loves: @mtnofgrace @cycbaby @callsign-dragonbaron @callsignscupcake @askmarinaandothers @persephonesportal

[jungle-angel]

Bob and reader 42 please 🥺😊

Oh babes you're gonna kill me with this one lol, I've always wanted to do this 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Another rainy, cold night and you and Bob had just begun to settle in, the fire crackling away as the thunder bellowed outside. Joe was still busy bedding the horses down for the night, while Grandpa Frank and Grandma Marty had begun to turn in on their own.

Being pregnant and living on the ranch wasn't the easiest thing in the world, nor was helping the rest of the Dagger Squad move. Phoenix and Hangman had already made it, but the others had run into issues of their own. Coyote and his wife, Raquel, were still trying to get an offer on the house, Payback, his wife and the girls all had to have their things shipped out while Rooster and his girl were busy packing up the boys, hoping to get to Oklahoma before Baby Carrie was due to arrive.

And she'd only be a few months older than yours.

Your hand instinctively slid straight to your belly, hardly noticing the familiar curl of Beau and Maisie, the newest furry addition to the family, around your legs. It hadn't been long at all before your clothes had begun to be ill fitting, the little one needing as much room as they could get.

The familiar meow of the cats broke you from your trance before you shooed them away to their basket by the fireplace. "Doin ok hon?" Bob asked as he folded the worn out Indian blanket and threw it over the back of the couch.

"Just thinking," you told him. "God we've got way too much work to do before the baby comes."

Bob nodded knowingly. For days he had been in the woodshop near the stables, helping Joe and Frank, his grandfather, build a crib from felled trees while a few close friends and partners from the nearby reservation were helping out in their own way.

"Hawk said he was coming by to help," Bob said. "He just has to go and get Sam from the airport."

"Sam's coming home?"

"Yep," Bob replied. "Been on a six month long mission in Thailand, he's flying back through Germany and Dover in the morning."

You couldn't have been happier. Bob had first introduced you to Hawk and his family when they met and from there on out, you were just as tight with them as the rest of the Floyd family had been.

You laid yourself down on the sofa, comfortable and safe as ever in one of Bob's oversized hoodies with the Navy logo plastered over the front. You felt a sudden movement inside you, your hand once again moving instinctively over your unnoticeable bump that remained hidden beneath Bob's hoodie.

"Hey Daddy," you chuckled. "You might wanna get over here."

"Why?" Bob said, laughing a little as he knitted his eyebrows together.

"Somebody wants to say hi."

Bob made his way over to where you laid on your back, kneeling on the hard wooden floors and the scratchy old rug that had been in the house since Bob's grandparents had gotten married. You rolled up the hoodie until it was carefully tucked under your boobs and your abdomen fully exposed. You shivered a little as you felt the cool metal framing of Bob's glasses hit your skin and finally the warmth of his hair and cheeks as he gently laid his head on your belly.

You gently stroked Bob's hair as a smile formed on his face, his head barely moving as he closed his eyes. "His little heart's beating a mile a minute," he murmured.

You laughed a little, continuing to stroke his hair as your husband lay still in his spot, never once lifting his head. You felt the same movement as before, the baby roiling inside you at the sound of Bob's voice.

"There he goes," Bob chuckled. "Oh my boy, you're gonna be a runner, that's for sure."

Bob gently pressed a soft kiss to your belly, running his hands along the spots where he felt the baby kicking. "I love you," he whispered. "I love you my boy. Your momma and I can't wait to hold you."

You two stayed like that for a long time, just listening to the thunder and rain and the crackling of the fireplace.

And you couldn't wait to be a family.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #top gun asks #top gun short fics

[butterflyclan]

Mid Autumn

Kitecrash stares blankly at Bubblekit's body. He had been mere days away from his apprenticeship ceremony, and he'd been so excited for it.

"I can give him his apprentice name, if you'd like," Parsleystar murmured to her. Kitecrash turned, eyes watering, a vague wonder at how the old she-cat had known what she'd been thinking.

"Please," she croaked. Parsleystar bowed her head.

"Bubblekit, you are of apprentice age. Had I held your ceremony sooner, you would have had your name when you died. To fix this error, I give you the name Bubblepaw in your death. May you find your way to StarClan quickly."

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

"Beamsnow, you shall mentor Basspaw. You have not had an apprentice yet, and it is high time you do. Algaesky, you will train Foampaw. You did great with Skyrumble, and I expect you will do just as well with her. Tumblefern with train Seedpaw. You're new to the Clan, but you've been here long enough that I trust you will do well. I will train Podpaw myself." Parsleystar flicked her tail, waiting for the murmuring to stop before she started speaking again. "Shellpaw, Mintswirl, please step forward."

Shellpaw trembled slightly, his breath catching in his throat.

"Shellpaw has expressed a desire to heal instead of fight. I have consulted with Mintswirl, and they have agreed to train him."

The Clan began to cheer, chanting the new apprentices' names, and Shellpaw sighed in relief. He'd been accepted, and he was free to start training.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

It was the mewling that had caught Hickorymarsh's attention. The rustling he had ignored- it wasn't a sound being made by a fox or a coyote, or any other possible predator, so it didn't matter to him. But the mewling...

He parted the tall grass and the air left his lungs. A tiny tortoiseshell kitten blinked up at him, startled by his appearance. She was weak and clearly underfed, struggling to stand on her own two paws.

Hickorymarsh crouched low, almost nose-to-nose with the kit, and she squirmed backwards. "I won't hurt you," he breathed. "I'm Hickorymarsh. Where's your parents?"

"My mama told me to stay here," the kitten squeaked, glaring fiercely at him. Hickorymarsh scented the air. Any scent besides his and the kit's were stale.

"How long ago was that?"

The kitten grew even more furious. "She'll be back! And she'll beat you up if you try to hurt me!"

"How about this," Hickorymarsh proposed. "I live somewhere with loads of other cats, and we have warm places to sleep and plenty of food to eat. I can take you back there, and I can come by here every day waiting for your mother to come back. When she does, I can bring her to you. Does that sound good?"

The kitten thought this over before nodding. "Okay. But you have to promise!"

"I promise."

#clangen #kitecrash #bubblekit #parsleystar #beamsnow #basspaw #algaesky #foampaw #tumblefern #seedpaw #podpaw #shellpaw #mintswirl #hickorymarsh #specklekit #specklepaw #seeddrop