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techni-coloured · 1 year

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“Rooster’s certain in his belief he’s going to be holding onto what it felt like to be loved by you, perhaps for the rest of his life.”

this was so beautifully written.

i still need you to pay for my therapy appts after this though.

Trouble in Paradise | 1.8 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Epilogue | Masterlist

Synopsis: After the most painful break-up of his life, Rooster is stationed in Hawaii for the next six months. Alone, away from home and hurting, he finds comfort in the arms of a stranger.

Warnings: no use of y/n, age gap (rooster is in his mid-30s, reader is in her early 20s), mentions of sex and betrayal, pregnancy scare. Angst

…

Rooster’s thumb strokes back and forth over the back of your hand. It’s slow and delicate, he’s got his head leaned back and he’s looking at the ceiling. His chest rises and falls softly.

He seems so calm.

You’ve stopped crying now, but you’re still far from calm. You’ve been staring at the spot on your wall where the paint is a slightly different shade from the rest. It’s from a night that you came in drunk with Kit and she accidentally fell and kicked a hole in the wall.

It wasn’t that long ago.

You’re not ready for a kid. The girl that sat on the floor, laughing hysterically at her friend’s foot stuck in the drywall, she isn’t ready for all of this. You wonder if he is. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that he’s so much older.

Sure, it’s an easy enough observation that the two of you aren’t the same age, when looking in a mirror. But the way you love him, the way he loves you - it’s easy to forget.

You think of the time he called you childish. You had just been extremely childish, but it had made you feel so small. So much less than him. Maybe it’s easy enough for you to forget that you’re younger. You glance across. Maybe it occurs to him often.

You wonder if he ever made her feel that small, made her feel like she’s worth so much less than he is. Probably not, what kind of woman would plan a future with a man like that?

It would make sense for Rooster to be ready, he was ready for marriage not that long ago. The two of them had probably discussed children.

It makes you nauseous, thinking of their plans for the future, and the grinding halt you put in them. It isn’t your fault, it’s his. You keep telling yourself that, but it just doesn’t feel right.

Somehow, you don’t feel blameless in all of this. Though, realistically, you know that Rooster wouldn’t be blaming himself if he was in your shoes. Your mother always blamed herself too.

Leaning your head back against the bed that you’re sitting against, you follow Rooster’s gaze and look up at the poster on the ceiling. It’s from a music festival he’s never heard of. Something you might never go to again once these six minutes are up.

You swallow softly.

Rooster drapes an arm around your shoulder and presses his lips tenderly to your hair. You hear him sigh softly. He rests his cheek on the top of your head. You aren’t sure how he feels about all of this. You didn’t really take time to ask.

He hasn’t asked how you feel about all of this either, but the sobbing told him exactly what he needed to know. He pulls you closer against his chest. You close your eyes, resting your cheek against the fabric of his shirt.

You’ve never thought about being a mother before right now. Even without a set plan, you hadn’t ever really incorporated kids as an option - why would you, after the upbringing you had?

You’re glad that his cheek is resting against the top of your head, that you can’t see his face - you’re certain that if you could, you would burst into tears again. You’ve been so stupid.

Joe and all of his deployments, all of those women - those separate love stories across three different continents. You had noticed the similarities, but before now, Amy had always played your mother’s role in the story. The woman left behind at home with a broken heart and the pieces of her own great romance, shattered and torn apart but still worth holding onto.

You weren’t playing that part.

You were one of the nameless women worth throwing it all away for. But it hits you now: one of.

You remember the arguments between him and your mother. Him insisting that he loved each one of them. That it wasn’t his fault, that this time was different. That she had to forgive him. - And she always did.

Just like you did. You forgave him.

Not Joe, you’ve made his life difficult pretty consistently for as long as you can remember, and he has always reminded you of that. But Rooster. Anger simmers softly in the pit of your stomach. Not at him, not at your father.

You swallow, refusing to cry.

The way Abigail has been looking at you recently sits in the front of your mind. It’s the exact same way you would look at your mother each time she forgave him. You never understood it.

Even back then, standing at the same height as the kitchen counter, wearing pyjamas with kittens on them, listening to her apologise for not being there like he needed her to be - you understood that she was being walked over. It made you angry, watching her be such a doormat.

You could see right through his lies. Each of them, even back then.

Sitting at the dinner table, your feet dangling below the chair, looking at her like she was so stupid. Wanting to scream ‘I told you so’ in her face when he eventually did leave for good. Hating her when she spent an entire week in bed, crying for him to come back. Watching her resentment towards you grow as you grew up, looking more and more like him.

Thinking that you would never be so stupid.

The timer goes off and your heart sinks. You press your face into his chest, fighting back a heavy sob. He wraps both arms around you, kissing the top of your head softly.

“Baby, can I check them?” He whispers, holding you tight against him. You nod your head, there’s no way that you could bear to check for yourself. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. Rooster takes one hand off of your back, turning over each of the tests silently.

You hold onto him like it will change what’s coming, like if you can just keep him this close for a while longer then you’ll change your mind. You wish for something to change. Your heart aches, wishing things were different. You sniffle into his chest.

You love him, he loves you. He’s willing to stay here with you forever, and build a future together. In your heart, you know that this isn’t right. The puzzle doesn’t fit together quite right.

This isn’t your future. This isn’t yours to share with him. It’s hers. It was theirs. You don’t want it.

“It’s negative,” Rooster says quietly, his eyes firmly on the single pink line on each of the tests, he lifts his gaze to look you in the eye and nods to confirm, “All three. They’re all negative.”

His face doesn’t reveal much about how he feels about this answer.

Yours does. You let out a shaking breath of relief, tears burning your eyes as they rush forwards. You look back up at the ceiling, breathing hard. Rooster squeezes his arm around your shoulder and leans forwards, pressing his lips to your cheek, then your temple. He kisses your hair.

You cover your face with your hands. Rooster’s brows furrow as you shiver, your breath shaking. You try not to, you hate crying in front of people, but you sit at his side and sob.

“Hey, hey,” He wraps his arms around you, sighing softly, “What’s the matter? - I thought-“

Rooster takes your wrists in his hands, pulling them down so that he can see your face, “Are these happy tears?”

You should say yes. You are happy, in a sense, this is the answer you were hoping for. It’s just that now you know. Those six minutes of waiting have made you sit and think of every wrong choice you have made.

Your gaze meets those soft brown eyes and you crumble, throwing yourself into his chest, sobbing. Rooster wraps his arms around you once more. He kisses your temple tenderly and lets you cry for a few moments.

It’s a big thing, it’s scary, he knows that.

It’s just when you’re still sobbing, almost hyperventilating against his chest almost ten minutes later, he shakes his head and squeezes your shoulder.

“Come on, let’s get some air.”

The two of you walk down to the beach behind your house. Rooster lays down first, lifting an arm to shield his eyes from the sun. He jerks his head, motioning for you to join him.

You lay down in the sand at his side and let the remnants of the afternoon pass in silence. He was right, it does help. You stop crying and just keep thinking. You’re trying to find a loophole.

A way out of the course he has set the both of you on.

“You wanna talk about it?” Rooster asks, turning his head to look across at you. You stare at the sky and shake your head softly.

“Can I talk about it?” He asks with the same tenderness.

You turn your head, meeting his gaze, giving a soft nod. You’ve fallen for his words before, maybe you’ll do it again. You want him to fix this. You want to want him to stay.

“I’m happy they were negative,” He declares, turning his chin back towards the orange sky, tucking an arm behind his head. “Call me selfish but I want you to myself for a while longer.”

Your throat tightens and for a moment, you aren’t sure if you’re going to start crying again. He’s getting it wrong. You close your eyes and hold your breath. You’ve never really been one for faith, but you’re laying in the sand and praying for some kind of divine intervention that will make this path the right one.

“It’s too soon to be thinking about all of that stuff.” Rooster muses.

You open your eyes before he turns his head. You have time to erase your pained expression before he sees it. He wants a future with you - that’s what he’s saying. It might be too soon now, but it won’t be one day.

One day he’ll get down on one knee and promise to love you forever, and he’ll hurt you like he hurt her. He’ll hurt you like your father hurt your mother.

He’s looking at you now, his eyes a shimmering caramel with the orange cast of the sky. The faded scars on his cheeks, the slight bump to his nose, the smile lines that seem to have doubled since you met him. You stare at him with an aching heart, wondering if it’s worth it to endure all of the too soon time you have left with him.

You can love him like this. You can let yourself be loved like this.

But one day, it isn’t going to be enough for him.

Fucking in the backseat of a car from the seventies, walking down to the beach and sitting in the sand, being able to see the stars better than he ever has - it’s more fun than Rooster has ever known. But he’s going to want more.

A year, five years, maybe ten - if you’re lucky. Rooster’s going to wake up, forty-something, with a girlfriend who is more than happy to just mix drinks and talk to lonely patrons - and it won’t be enough for him.

“Do you really want kids someday?” You ask him quietly. Your voice is a little hoarse, you’re still trying not to cry, but it can be passed off as a remnant of your breakdown from earlier.

Rooster nods as he slips his hand into yours, his fingers between yours. He lifts your hand and kisses your knuckles tenderly, then rests your hand against his chest. His heartbeat is so steady. Yours is thunderous.

“Yeah, I want a family,” He’s certain about it. He has thought about this before. He hasn’t ever been ready, but his choice has never faltered. He looks across at you once more, sun soaked and smiling softly. “I want us to have a life together.”

“We already have one, this one,” You say quietly, your voice shaking as you speak. Rooster doesn’t seem to follow. This isn’t a life to him. This will never be enough. Still, you tell him what you need from him, “This is what I want. Us, here, together. I don’t want it to change.”

He chuckles softly and rolls onto his side, pushing himself up on his elbow. He leans over you, tenderly brushing his thumb over your warm cheek.

“I like this too, but y’know,” You watch him intently as he speaks, willing him to change his mind, to not finish his sentence. He shrugs his shoulders, “Someday.”

You shake your head softly.

Your heart aches as you realize that this is it. The two of you are never going to make each other happy. Either you give in, and become the paranoid, heartbroken woman that you left behind when you moved here. Or he lives a life that isn’t enough.

Rooster’s brows furrow slightly, he squeezes your hipbone and his features soften as he tries to make this playful.

“What? - You don’t want to marry me one day?” He teases, brushing a strand of hair back off of your face. He’s been thinking about this more and more.

All of the doubts he had with Amy make sense when he’s with you, because she was never the girl that he was supposed to spend his life with. You are, he’s sure of it.

Your lip trembles as you give a soft shake of your head.

Bradley’s smile falters just slightly, he brushes his fingertips across his cheek and shakes his head, “Come on, never?” His tone is soft, he’s still trying to keep things lighthearted.

You shake your head at him.

“Okay.” He says quietly, sitting up. He shrugs his shoulders, “Alright. So, we don’t get married.”

It’s not a big deal. Plenty of couples don’t get married. It’s probably outdated. Here and now, he doesn’t mind. Looking down at you as you’re pushed up onto your elbows and staring at him with such worry in your eyes, he would say anything to make you feel safe again.

But his mind will change.

You know him. You know that he would say anything to make this better. As much as you would like to listen, you know that his word means nothing. You need him to understand.

“I don’t think I’ll ever trust you enough to want to marry you.”

Bradley’s brows knit together.

All of the arguments, the screaming matches and hurtful words with Amy - never hit him quite as hard as that. He watches you for a few moments. It’s clear that you mean what you said.

He frowns slightly as you sit up and rest your hand over his.

“I love you.” He tells you. It’s sincere, his chest heaves as he speaks, he reaches out and cups your jaw with his hand, keeping your eyes on him. “I want to spend my life with you. I’m never gonna hurt you again.”

You don’t make an effort to pull away, even though looking him in the eye right now feels like holding your palm over an open flame.

“You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Amy once.” You say quietly.

Rooster shakes his head again, more urgently this time, “This is different. I’ve never been as sure about anything as I am about my feelings for you.”

You sigh softly and shift forwards, he opens his arms. You press your face into the crook of his neck, his arms squeeze tight around your middle. You breath him in and kiss the skin of his throat once softly.

Rooster’s palm presses to your back, firm and strong as is trails from the tip of your spine to the base.

“I love you so much,” He tells you gently. You close your eyes and rest your cheek against his shoulder, looking at the waves rolling onto the sand. “We don’t have to talk about this right now. It’s gonna be okay.”

You wish you believed him now as easily as you did before.

His heart beats steadily against yours, your fingers curl gently around the nape of his neck as you hold yourself close to him. You sit in silence for a few moments, letting yourself be held by him, just for a little longer.

Rooster frowns as you pull back to look at him finally. The look on your face says it all.

“I’m never going to give you the future that you want.” You say softly.

He shakes his head, his hands finding your hips, holding you like it’ll keep you there forever.

“Doesn’t matter,” He breathes out, “I’d take any future you would give me.”

You swallow, running your fingertips across his shoulders and down his arms. Your lip trembles slightly.

“I can’t do it,” You say quietly, willing your voice not to shake. A muscle in his jaw ticks. You shake your head again, “This isn’t - this isn’t fair.”

You look at him and anger bubbles inside of you. This is his fault in every sense of the word. It didn’t have to be like this.

He didn’t have to lie to her, to you - he didn’t have to trail his fingers along your spine, or kiss your temple, or hold you tight against him as he slept. He didn’t have to make you fall in love with him. He didn’t have to ruin everything.

But he did, and now you’re here, tearing your hearts out and leaving them in the sand. It’s not like they’ll be any use to either of you after this anyway.

“Please,” His hands squeeze around your hips, he raises his brows and wills you to give him another chance. “Please don’t.”

Watching the hurt in his eyes, you want to scream at him. To tell him that this is all his fault, to call him every name you can think of. Instead, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your body into his. He hugs you.

“It’s been a really confusing day,” Bradley murmurs, his hand resting against the base of your skull as he holds you against him, “Let’s talk about this another time, okay?”

You kiss his jaw tenderly, he turns his head and you kiss his lips.

He looks into your eyes when you pull back and knows that that was the last time. He glances down, letting out a heavy breath, cursing himself for being such an idiot. Rooster feels the weight of this settle down and take its place on his chest, he takes another heavy breath and swallows, knowing that it’s going to be there for a long time.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him quietly, blinking as you fight back tears.

Rooster looks up at you, eyes shining. He won’t let himself cry in front of you. He brushes your hair back tenderly off of your shoulders and gives a small nod.

“Me too.”

You push away from him and sit in the sand, pulling your knees up to your chest, turning your attention to the sea so that he doesn’t have to see you break down again today.

Rooster pushes himself to his feet and hesitates for a moment. He racks his brain, thinking of anything he could say to make this better. He opens his mouth, searching for the right word.

You wipe at your eyes, then turn your head away from him.

He closes his mouth then leans down and presses his lips delicately to the top of your head, “I love you.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, eyes stinging with tears. You force yourself not to turn around. He walks away. You watch the sun disappear behind the tide, your throat burning - you don’t cry.

Rooster has twenty-seven days left on the island.

Jake doesn’t know the specifics of how or why, but he does know that Rooster is gone twenty-four days earlier than he’s supposed to and that it’s something to do with you.

It’s not a coincidence when Jake runs into you a week later. He stops by the liquor store that Kit works at on purpose, you’re there like he wanted you to be.

Jake’s intention was to push his luck and ask, but when he sees you sitting on the counter with Kit wiping your tears and telling you that it’s going to be okay, he knows not to. He leaves without buying anything.

Amy’s stuff is gone from the apartment when Rooster gets back. It’s what he expected but it doesn’t feel like any less of a punch to the gut. He sits on the floor in the entryway and leans his head back against the wall.

This is his punishment, he knows that. He accepts it.

He knows that reaching out to you would just hurt you more. It doesn’t stop him from thinking about it. Even after two weeks, it’s the only thing that gets him to sleep at night. After three weeks, when he’s back at work, it’s the only thing that gets him through his work day.

Rooster’s certain in his belief he’s going to be holding onto what it felt like to be loved by you, perhaps for the rest of his life.

…

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#top gun maverick #rooster #im in puddles

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techni-coloured · 1 year

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HOLIDAY SERESIN HOLIDAY SERESIN

The Professor |Chapter 10| A Jake Seresin AU

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part warnings: age gap (reader is 21, Jake is 35), power imbalance, mentions of blackmail, mentions of blackmail, stalking, mentions of raw sex. slow burn, enemies to lovers, the drama is marinating. . . word count: 2.8k (Issa filler)

“SHOTS ON ME BITCHES!” You yelled at the top of your lungs as you walked through the crowded bar.

It was Saturday night in Chestnut Hill, and Boston College had won what was probably the biggest game of the season. You, Lucy, and Zeke had gone to the game, and stormed the field when the game was over. Zeke had dragged you and Lucy out to go to the bars. And after the last week you had, you needed to get drunk and forget. Zeke had even been kind enough to introduce you to one of his frat brothers, Michael, who was now your “date” for the evening. You jokingly contemplated to Lucy about inviting Jake to come join in the celebrations.

“Oh my god, I dare you to take a body shot,” Lucy giggled in your ear. If there was anyone who couldn’t handle alcohol, it was Lucy. The girl had two white claws before the game and was drunk nearly the entire first half.

“Bet,” You smiled, grabbing Michael’s hand and dragging him up to the bar. Michael was handsome, dark flowy hair, piercing blue eyes. He was tall, a little bit taller than Jake but not taller than Rooster.

“What kind of shot?” He asked you.

“Mhm. . . surprise me,” You said, looking up at him. He winked and put his arm around you.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket again. It was more than likely Jake asking for you to come over. He didn’t like you going to the bars on the weekend. He had reminded you of the stats on alcohol related incidents and females on campus. It wasn’t that Jake didn’t trust you or wanted to ban you from having fun at all, it was that he was on edge due to the whole Derek situation. And the recent pregnancy scare didn’t help ease his nerves at all. But you had told him that you were going out for the night, and that you would call him if you needed a ride.

The bartender put a shot glass and a can of whip cream on the bar and looked at you, “Body shot?” She asked and you nodded. She smirked and walked over to a bell on the wall, ringing it. Michael gently pushed you up to the bar, and then with ease, set you on top of the bar, “Pull your shirt up above your tits, and unbutton your pants to show the top of your underwear.”

“Lucy, record this,” You said and handed her your phone. The bartender put a drop of whipped cream from below your bra to the top of your navel. You shivered at the temperature and looked up at Michael, who had a smirk on his face. She then put a shot glass in between your breasts.

“Ready. . . go!” The bartender said, and Michael started licking the whipped cream off your body. You giggled and covered your face as Michael licked up your body, his tongue leaving a trail of stickiness behind. He winked at you, as he came face to face with your breasts, wrapping his lips around the shot and taking it without his hands. He slapped the glass down, and then grabbed your hand, pulling you to sit up straight, and kissed you sloppily. You moaned at the feeling of alcohol on his lips. You pushed him back with a giggle and jumped down from the bar, fixing your shirt and walking over to Lucy.

“I sent it to your toy boys,” Lucy giggled and you groaned.

“Great, one is going to be pissed and the other slightly turned on,” You rolled your eyes.

“Well, I’m turned on,” Lucy shrugged.

You giggled and grabbed her hand, “Come on, let’s dance.”

“Fucking shit, Ewers you had that!” Jake yelled at the TV. He had invited Rooster, Bob, and Natasha over to watch the Texas game.

“I told you, they aren’t comparable on offense to TCU,” Bob said, and sipped his soda.

“Do you even know how to play football?” Rooster asked him.

“N-no, but I understand the math behind it. Statistically-”

“Who the hell is that?” Natasha asked, looking over Jake’s shoulder at the snapchat he just got from you, “Is that her?” She looked at him with wide eyes. Jake looked up at her, and he didn’t even need to say anything for Natasha to understand that yes, the girl half naked on the bar with a shot glass between her tits was the woman Jake was in love with.

“Ooo! Jake got a snap from his girl,” Bradley jumped up from his chair and walked over to Jake, “Holy shit she’s- Y/N? How did you get a snap from my girl and I. . . “ Bradley reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone, seeing a snapchat notification from you as well. The video was still playing on Jake’s phone as Bradley opened the snap and saw the same exact thing. Bob and Natashsa shared a look as the tension grew in the room.

Jake stood up from the couch, “I can-” His speech was cut off as Bradley hit his jaw with a right hook. Natasha and Bob moved quickly to hold the two men back as they tried to lunge for one another.

“You fucking dick!” Bradley yelled, “How long have you been talking to her?!”

“Oh we are doing much more than talking,” Jake smirked and Bradley lunged again. Bob did his best to hold Bradley back. Jake held his hands up in defense, “You have no right to be mad at me! I should be mad at you!”

“You?!” Bradley yelled, “You’re fucking my girl.”

“She’s not yours, Bradshaw. Not when she thought I knocked-”

“What?” Bradley quit fighting against Bob, and looked at his friend with a broken expression on his face, “She’s pregnant?”

“No,” Jake sighed, “She thought she was. She took a pregnancy test and it came back negative. She got her period like the next day. Bradley, I told her to-”

“So you’re the professor,” Bradley scoffed and shook his head with a laugh, “She goes on and on about this. . .asshole but wonderful professor she has. How helpful he is with her application for the Berkeley program and how much he has helped her over the past couple weeks with her assignments for class and that she finally has a good grade in the class. . . and it’s been you. The whole fucking time. . . it’s been you.”

“Bradley, I-”

“She said she loves you. And it wasn’t that platonic “oh my god I love him,” I saw it in her eyes when she said it,” Bradley looked down at his shoes and cleared his throat, “I gotta go.”

“Brad-” Jake tried to reach out for his friend, but Bradley grabbed his jacket and headed for the front door. Jake closed his eyes as the door slammed shut, a thick silence falling over the room.

“Did you know? That she was with Bradley too?” Bob asked softly and Jake nodded, “The whole time?” Jake nodded again. Bob didn’t say anything either as he walked towards the door and left Jake and Natasha alone in the living room.

Natasha looked at her friend, his green eyes were unreadable. Jake clenched his jaw and then looked at her. He turned his body, a hand came to rest on her cheek. Natasha looked up at him, and Jake let out a sharp sigh as he kissed her. Natasha froze and pushed Jake back.

“Please,” Jake said softly, reaching out for her again, “She’s probably going to fuck whatever stupid jock she’s out with tonight. I need you, Nat.”

“Only for tonight,” Natasha said, and draped her arms around Jake’s shoulders, and brought him down for a kiss. The kiss was heated, as tongues and teeth clashed against each other. If there was one thing that Jake liked about having sex with Natasha, was that she knew exactly what she was doing and how to do it. She was straight to business every single time. Jake pulled back from her, and grabbed her hand, leading her up the stairs to the guest room.

Your lungs burned as you ran up the sidewalk towards your house. It was getting colder, and the good running days were few and far between. Today hadn’t been a horrible day to run, but it was cold enough that you got that uncomfortable tingle in the back of your throat as you slowed to a jog. Your eyes caught sight of that familiar blue bronco in the driveway. You furrowed your eyebrows as you took an ear bud out of your ear, and noticed Rooster sitting on your front porch.

“Hey,” You said, huffing for breath. Rooster looked up from picking at his hands and handed you the water bottle that sat next to him, “Thank you. How’d you know?”

“It’s above fifty degrees, and Lucy told me you were out. Your car is still here so I put two and two together,” Rooster said. You hummed in response and walked over to him. You leaned in to kiss him but he turned his head to the side. Confusion settled on your face and Rooster looked up at you, “We need to talk.”

“Okay. . . can we talk later after I shower or-”

“Now,” Rooster said, “Please. Sit.” You obliged and sat down next to him. There was a moment of silence before Rooster inhaled sharply and spoke, “I know about Jake.”

Your heart started thundering as you looked over at Bradley, “No, I can explain. I meant to tell you-”

“I’m not mad,” Bradley said and now you were even more confused than earlier, “I’m hurt, of course, but I am not mad. I guess, in a way, I knew that you were never totally mine, that there was something or someone else somewhere that was holding you back. And now that I know. . . it makes this all easier.”

“Are we breaking up?” You asked. Rooster sighed and placed a hand on your thigh.

“I don’t think we can break up if we were never dating,” Rooster said and you let out an airy laugh, “I like you, Y/N. And I think you’re really fucking awesome, and I would like to still be friends.”

“I’d like that,” You said and Rooster looked at you, “I’m really sorry about the whole Jake thing. It. . .it’s become more complicated than I ever intended it to be.”

“Yeah, like how you thought you were pregnant with his baby,” You groaned at the reminder of what was probably the second worst day of your life, and leaned your head on Rooster’s shoulder. Rooster laughed and put an arm around your shoulders, and leaned his cheek on your head, “If it makes you feel any better, Jake would’ve done the right thing. He’s a good guy like that.”

It did bring you comfort. It was actually the only thing that did bring you some comfort as you sat in the bathroom a week ago waiting for the results to come in. Jake might be an asshole, but he was a good man with good morals. He wouldn’t have left you high and dry having to figure out everything on your own. It also brought you comfort in the fact that Jake would be a good dad someday.

“I love you, Bradley,” You said, honestly.

“I know,” Rooster said back, and kissed the top of your forehead. The two of you sat like that for a while, watching the birds and the cars pass by the house.

The holidays were the most dreadful time of the year. You hadn’t felt festive since the last year your parents were alive. You didn’t get excited when Halloween was over and started putting up Christmas decorations, or looking through catalogs to decide what to get people. Lucy, however, was the opposite, but she had agreed to your condition that the Christmas tree could come up a week after Halloween. Which was why you were sitting on the couch, drinking a glass of wine, watching Lucy tear through boxes of Christmas decorations as Zeke brought them up from the basement.

“We couldn’t wait until after fall break?” You asked her.

“Nope, not enough time to let the Christmas spirit start,” Lucy said as she started placing garland in piles around the living room, “Speaking of. . . what are your plans for Fall Break?”

You sighed, “Staying here, probably.”

“You’re not going to go home?” Lucy asked and you shook your head. You had gone home last year and spent it with your Aunt, your mother’s sister. Your grandparents weren’t alive anymore, and the closest person you had to family in the area was your Aunt Sally. First time you ever met Aunt Sally was at your parents’ funeral and it was by far the most awkward experience of your life. Going home for Thanksgiving might’ve topped it actually.

“Why don’t you come home with me? My mom would love to see you,” Zeke said as he put a box down, “What’s your brother doing?”

“Spending it with his girlfriend in Oregon,” You said, “And I can’t intrude. I’ll be fine here. I have to work on my application and assignments. Plus, I just applied for graduation so I have to make sure I am ready to go on that. I can’t be distracted over break.” Lucy and Zeke shared a look, “Really guys, I’m fine!”

“Well, if you change your mind, you can always come back with us,” Zeke said, and put an arm around Lucy, “You know my mom always makes way too much food. It’s those Italian genes in her.”

You smiled and nodded, “Now, I gotta go.”

“To where?” Lucy asked.

“Jake’s for dinner. We are working on grading the topic proposals of the first years,” You said as you walked to the kitchen to put your glass away, “Please don’t let her make it look like a Christmas bomb went off.”

“I’ll try but you know I am defenseless against her puppy dog eyes,” Zeke said looking at his girlfriend, “Uh! She’s starting already. Be strong, Zeke man, be strong.” You and Lucy giggled at his theatrics.

“Bye you two,” You said, grabbing your backpack and heading for the door.

“Bye, wrap it this time! And I mean it! No Christmas surprises!” Lucy yelled as you walked out the door. You flipped her the bird as you got into your car and started for Jake’s.

When you arrived at Jake’s house, you were shocked to be met with the sight of Jake hanging up Christmas lights outside of his house. You actually had to pinch yourself to make sure that you weren’t dreaming, but there he was, wearing a flannel jacket with a stocking hat on, hanging up lights.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked him, as you shut your car door.

“Lights,” He said, tying down a strand, “Getting festive.”

“Oh not you too,” You sighed. Jake got down from the ladder and walked over to you. He greeted you with a kiss on the lips and then looked at his handiwork.

“You don’t like the lights?” He questioned.

“The lights are fine, it’s the whole Holiday thing I’m not a fan of,” You said and looked down at your shoes.

Jake felt his heart break in his chest. He had spent years of being friends with Bradley to know how hard the Holidays could be. Even though Jake didn’t have a strong relationship with his father, he did with his sisters and his mother. Jake always tried to go home for the Holidays to spend time with them. His family meant everything. He frowned as he watched you walk inside of his house. He tried hard to not feel pity for you, something that you told him over and over to not feel. But it was hard. Jake had a big heart, and you had a spot in it.

You were pulling out a folder of papers when Jake walked into the kitchen. He didn’t say anything as he grabbed you by the waist and brought you in for a searing kiss. You let out a squeak as his hands tangled in your hair. Your hands wrapped around his neck, and Jake pushed one of his thick thighs in between your legs. He pushed you back into the table, your thighs hitting the edge. Jake lifted you up slightly to sit you on the table. His lips went from yours, to your jaw, sucking lightly as he trailed to your ear.

“Come home with me,” Jake said in your ear.

“What?” You asked confused, “We are at your-”

“No, to Texas,” Jake shook his head, and pulled back from you “For Thanksgiving. Come home with me.”

taglist: @zetasaturno99 @tallrock35 @bioodforbiood @mak-32 @cherrycola27 @drunkangels @fuckyeahhangman @the-winter-marvel33 @oldnatgwenaccount @cm27078 @xoxabs88xox @paige-alexandra-may @ereardon @marantha @inkysun @bradleybeachbabe @manunitedgotbruno @mulletmcghee @moonvr @nagygreta @cherryobx @callsign-joyride @blue-aconite @books-for-summer @violyn20 @lilylilyyyyyy @p1nkbarbi3 @princessofglitterland @hallway5 @thedroneranger @chaoticweirdogeek @abaker74 @auroraboreallisfine @materialgirl01 @fandom-princess-forevermore @averyhotchner @thedaredevilsgirl @shelbycillian @currentlybradshaw @mavesiceroo @emptyloverofmine @lovingjakeseresin @thegoddessc @techni-coloured @shawnsblue @captainmarvels-blog

#top gun maverick #happy holidays indeed

339 notes · View notes

techni-coloured · 1 year

Note

ME THINKS ME SOBS

“If I could stop loving you, I would.” With any of the pilots

love that's a real long shot

pairing- hangman x pilot!reader (callsign violet)

synopsis- you and jake keep running into each other over the years and jake just can’t seem to let you go

warnings- fwb! happy ending!!! angst! 18+ for slight smuttiness (if you read my normal stuff this is extremely tame comparatively - just want to manage expectations 😉) light enemies to it’s just sex to pining to lovers. naval inaccuracies but it's my pretend world y'all just live in it, sad jake's pov but he's pretty he'll be fine

length- 7.7k

an- companion piece to this 0.6k drabble one time thing but that is not required reading - pretty much all of ott is revisited in this fic

i really, really don’t know how I feel about this one but i've been tinkering and agonizing over it forever and i have to be done so LOL here ya go

credit for the cs violet goes to my soulmate @justfandomwritings thank you for loving angst as much as i do, thank you for being brilliant

title courtesy of it ain't over - the black keys

tagging those that were upset with me for the ending of one time thing - @unstablecaffeinatedmind / @ahopelessromanticwritersworld / @gigisimsonmars / @flashyourgreeneyesatme / @forever-sleepy-sloth / @gingerbreadandpaper / @lovingjakeseresin

also - @mandylove1000 ily

Virginia Beach, 2019

Jake’s glad the packed bar gives him enough cover to stay hidden when he overhears Bradshaw asking his new roommate if she’s interested in him.

He bites back a huff of annoyance, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He talked to her for all of five seconds before mustache boy strutted up to make it very clear his friend was off-limits, was barely even flirting with her. Charming smiles are basically a reflex of his at this point.

“That man has never given a girl an orgasm.”

Jake rolls his eyes but keeps his mouth shut. It’s categorically untrue, but who cares what Bradshaw’s roommate thinks?

Your back is to him too, but he hears you hum in agreement, stifling a laugh. Jake’s hackles suddenly raise, and he briefly wonders why it irritates him so much that you seem to agree with that statement.

Rooster chokes on his beer. “Excuse me?”

She shrugs, fidgeting with her drink. “You were asking if I was into your friend – Hangman, was it? That should be enough of an answer.”

“I don’t really want to think about Seresin’s like in bed.”

“You’re breaking my heart, little bird,” Jake drawls from behind Rooster, figuring he should let you guys know of his presence before you get any further. “And here I thought we had something special.”

You roll your eyes before pushing your stool back. “Well, that’s my cue to leave.”

Jake immediately wonders what the appropriate amount of time is before he can excuse himself too.

“If you wanted to know what I’m like behind closed doors, you could’ve just asked, darlin’,” Jake murmurs from behind you, having found the corner of the bar you disappeared to. “I’d be happy to give you a lesson. I’m very hands-on.”

“Hard pass, Hangman.”

He smiles lazily, turning the charm up to full wattage and leaning on the bar next to you. Not close enough to make you uncomfortable, but enough to make you avert your eyes from his bicep and shift a little in your seat.

“I have a pretty good idea already.”

His smirk goes a little sharp around the edges, a predator locking in his prey. “That so? And what idea might that be?”

You raise an eyebrow. The derision you manage to convey in one unimpressed glance goes straight to his cock.

His eyes flash, fingers clenching around his beer, but he makes sure the infamous smirk stays put. “Think you’ve got me figured out?”

You shrug. “Guys that look like you are rarely anything more than a disappointment in bed.”

He smiles at that, leaning towards playful instead of goading, wondering if you’ve realized what you just admitted. “I think you’re pretty too, sweetheart.”

“You’re intelligent enough to know what you look like. It’d be stupid to pretend otherwise.”

He rolls his beer between his palms, gaze far away and calculating.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” He asks, feigned innocence taking over as he brings his eyes back to you.

“Stop thinking about how you’re gonna get me to sleep with you.”

The problem for you is, Jake sees the way you look at him. And it’s nothing like the polite boredom he’s witnessed you grace guys with when they truly don’t have a chance with you.

“Tell me one thing, Violet,” he says, your callsign rolling off his tongue like honey. “Why is it that you’re so nice to everyone else, but so mean to me?”

“Maybe I just don’t like you that much,” you answer, but the barbs in your words are undermined by the way your eyes dart to his chest. He wants to pat himself on the back for going home to change out of his flight suit and into a threadbare grey t-shirt before coming out tonight.

Jake purses his lips, nodding like he’s seriously considering your words, leaning in, and lowering his voice. “Or maybe, you like me a little more than you’d care to admit.”

You shoot him a dirty look for invading your space. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?”

Your thighs press together, almost imperceptibly. If he wasn’t completely attuned to you, he probably would’ve missed it.

Bingo.

“Tell me to fuck off and I will,” Jake rumbles, mouth ghosting over your ear now, too close to be played off as a joke. “Or let me prove you wrong.”

When you lift your eyes to meet his, refusing to shy away from him towering over you in your seat, there’s something dark, something glazed taking them over.

“A one-time thing and I’ll never bring it up again,” Jake promises. “I have new orders for Lemoore anyways; I leave in two days.”

“Fuck,” you whisper. “Take me home before I change my mind, Seresin.”

You’ve been gripping his hair for what seems like hours, thighs still shaking where they’re bracketed around Jake’s head.

“What was it – I’ve never given a girl an orgasm?” He asks smugly. “I must be some kind of prodigy, then.”

“Don’t ruin my afterglow,” you manage, voice hoarse. You’re still far too coherent for his liking, and Jake ducks his head back down, savoring the broken moan that rips from your throat.

He doesn’t stop until the only word you can form is his name.

North Island, 2020

“Look who showed up,” Jake calls from across the Hard Deck, eyes running down your body. He shifts, adjusting himself as subtly as he can. “If it ain’t Violet.”

As generic as your uniform is, all he can picture now is the body he knows lies beneath it.

“Hangman,” you say, not quite able to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Glad to see we have a runner-up for the TOPGUN trophy.”

You look almost, dare he say, fond? “Your ego hasn’t dimmed a bit, has it Hang?”

Jake gives you another obvious once-over, smirking to balance out the warmth he can’t keep out of his voice. “Good to see you, sweetheart.”

Jake’s skin has been buzzing all night, high off his win, drunk off being within inches of you outside the Hard Deck after thirteen weeks of having you just out of arm’s reach.

“Congratulations,” you say, and you don’t even seem that sore about it. Your eyes linger on where his shirt has slowly been coming unbuttoned as the night wears on when you add, “Can’t believe you beat me for first place.”

“An inevitability, darlin’.” Jake leans in, pleased to see your mouth part in his proximity. “Don’t tell anyone, but I might’ve worried you were gonna give me a run for my money for a second there.”

You scoff, but don’t move away, if anything you sway closer. His fingers twitch at his sides, fighting to pull you against him, aching to run his hands up your bare legs and under your flimsy sundress, to see if you’re as wet as the heat in your eyes suggests.

You turn to face the ocean, which just pushes your hips in closer to him and makes Jake’s mouth water. “Obviously. You barely won.”

He winks, knowing you’re keeping tabs on him from your periphery even as you pretend to study the crashing waves in front of you. “That’ll be our secret. Care to congratulate me in private?”

“Thought you said that was a one-time thing, Seresin.” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice and in that moment, Jake knows he’s won for the second time today.

“Shut up and meet me at my truck.”

You smirk, turning on your heel without another word.

Jake doesn’t take his time with you this time. Only immense self restraint and the threat of being slapped with a public indecency charge keeps him from bending you over in the parking lot of the Hard Deck.

It doesn’t help that you seem less than willing to wait too, running delicate fingers along the inseam of his jeans, letting your skirt ride higher and higher as you shift in the passenger seat, giggling as he swerves when he catches a glimpse of red lace between your thighs.

By the time you reach his house you’re practically dragging him up the stairs by his belt loops, looking like you’re heading for the bedroom before he pushes you back up against the front door and takes you right there.

The second round you only make it as far as the couch, but he at least manages to get your clothes all the way off.

When you finally end up in his bed you’re both still panting and spent, Jake curling around you even though he’s tacky with sweat.

“I’ll be in Lemoore, now that I’m done with TOPGUN,” you whisper when you’re forming coherent sentences again, so quiet he can hardly hear you over the wind whipping against his bedroom window. “I think it’s short term, but we’ll see.”

Something warm lights up in Jake that he doesn’t want to examine very closely. “Good, everyone there is shit at pool. I’m in need of some actual competition.”

You smile against his skin and he drops a kiss to the top of your head, wondering if you can feel his heart speeding up.

Lemoore, 2021

You’re tracing mindless shapes across Jake’s chest, playing with his chest hair when you rip the rug out from underneath him.

“Got my new orders.”

It’s always amused him how fond you are of his chest hair, so it takes a few seconds for your words to sink in. When he does, his entire body flashes hot, then cold. He hopes you don’t notice the rigidity suddenly running through him. “When do you leave?”

Your face is blank, frustratingly neutral. “Tomorrow.”

Jake takes as deep of a breath as he can manage without being noticeable. Which given your proximity to his chest, is not very. He wants to be mad you didn’t tell him sooner, but the rational part of his brain reminds him he has no right to be.

“Where to?” He asks after a few beats of silence when he’s pretty sure it’ll come out even.

“Fallon.”

The scoff he lets out is genuine, at least. “Gross.”

Your indifference breaks as you giggle against his skin at his derision and he forgets that this is the last time he’ll get to have you like this. For now, at least.

“Are you spending the night?”

Jake doesn’t know why you ask anymore, in the last year he’s said no to sleeping in your bed zero times. He's turned down the opportunity to save you from sleazy guys hitting on you in dive bars even less than that - which is to say he does it without being asked and without even checking if you want his help anymore. Tact really is his middle name.

But like always, you ask and like always, he fights to keep the eagerness out of his voice. He’s fortunate to have decades of practice of keeping his tone level under his belt. “If you want me to.”

“I do,” you whisper, face still tucked into him, but he manages to see your lips purse, looking like you want to say more.

You don’t, though, and Jake hides his smile in your hair rather than commenting.

“Good. Wanna wake you up with my mouth on you,” he murmurs, trailing said mouth against your soft skin. He wills himself to say something else, to tell you he’ll miss you, that he doesn’t want whatever this is to end.

But his tongue stays stuck, arms tightening as his body says what his lips can’t.

North Island, 2022

Jake’s fists are clenched by his side, nails digging into his palms, pinpricks of pain the only thing keeping him from seeing red.

“I’m sorry?” You look confused. Scarlet edges into the corners of his vision. “That I didn’t tell you they sent me back to TOPGUN too? I haven’t seen you in almost a year, Jake.”

“Don’t act like we haven’t talked since then.” Jake doesn’t want to know what his face looks like, his normally careful façade shattered in favor of quiet outrage. “I think you know you were supposed to mention it.”

You had talked. Mostly sporadic, surface-level texts. Memes of an exasperated Chris Pine on his press tour he knew you would get a kick out of. In return, he received a graph detailing Leonardo DiCaprio’s age versus his girlfriends’, noting a clear age limit. You kept your jokes about him being a future Leo to a minimum, at least.

And on one memorable occasion, you called him drunk, and he got to talk to you for an hour after you snarkily admitted to missing him.

Neither of you mentioned it the next day.

You deflate. “Maybe. I don’t know what you want from me. We were always playing by your rules here.”

Jake’s mouth forms a tight line. “Right. My rules.”

Some bullshit he said, before Lemoore, way back in Oceana. Before you’d slept together, before TOPGUN, before he’d gotten to know the real you, before you’d gotten under his skin.

“Let’s just get through this mission, it’ll be easier if we’re not fighting. You do enough goading with Rooster.”

Jake’s so caught up in his own head that he doesn’t even bother to protest about Rooster. He’s grinding his teeth, jaw clenched so the rest of his body can remain still. He knows, on some level, that he’s probably overreacting. But he mentioned this return to TOPGUN to you last week and he can’t help but feel like he’s playing catch up when suddenly you’re here too.

If there’s one thing Hangman doesn’t allow, it’s being left behind.

He doesn’t know why this is on the laundry list of things you refuse to talk about. That’s probably the most frustrating of it all. You’ve always been the puzzle he can’t quite figure out.

“We’ll stay out of each other’s way,” he finds himself saying, mask slipping back into place. “Focus on the mission.”

“Yeah, focus on the mission,” you echo, and Jake wonders if it feels hollow to you too.

Your head is on Jake’s chest again, bare legs tangled with his and the tension is finally bleeding from his body.

“Don’t like fighting with you,” you mumble, muffled by his arms wrapped around you.

“Ended well,” he jokes, magnanimously gesturing to your naked state just barely covered by the thin sheet. “Gave us a vigor we haven’t had in a while.”

He feels your cheeks grow warm where they’re pressed against his skin, clearly thinking back to the adrenaline laden, ‘thank God we’re alive sex’ that lead to the casualty of at least one lamp.

Jake silently thanks Maverick for being such a hot mess that the Navy is unlikely to worry about a few broken items in his bunk.

He smirks at your embarrassment, as if falling into bed together is anything new. It’s the post-orgasm glow, he knows it is, but Jake feels the truth bubbling to the surface. Wouldn’t it be so easy not to let this end?

“Yeah.” You sigh, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t know. All the arguing, then making up so we can fool around. It’s time for us to grow up, don’t you think?”

Jake lets the words die on the tip of his tongue.

“Probably,” he manages.

He kisses you deeply, saying what his lips won’t. He doesn’t mean for it to turn heated; he just can’t bear to let you go yet.

Making love is the only way to describe what comes next. You’ve been at this for a long time, going on three years, and you’ve fucked; hard and fast and fiery. You’ve slept together; gentle and languid and easy.

It’s never felt quite like this.

When he slides into you for what he knows will be the last time, he tries to memorize every line of your face, every gasp from your parted lips, every flutter of your lashes. It’ll be months before he forgets the soft, unguarded shine of your eyes, the way your fingers feel tangled on the nape of his neck.

It feels like goodbye.

North Island, 2023

Your name is out of Jake’s mouth before he can stop himself, longing bowling over his reasoning abilities. Every urge to text you that he stomped out over the last year shows itself as a waste since any sense of self-preservation goes out the window once he lays his eyes on you.

It doesn’t hurt any less to see you without warning in Coronado, but at least this time he holds onto the reigns tightly enough to keep his tone level.

Your voice is happy when you turn towards him, and Jake tries not to outwardly react. “Hangman, hi.”

He wants to rush over, grab onto you, and never let go. Wants to tuck his nose into your hair, smell warm citrus, and have that niggle in the back of his brain soothed.

He waves as you stride towards him instead, boots cemented to the floor. “Back in California already?”

You chuckle, the adorable, lyrical sound raising goosebumps on his arms beneath his flight suit. “Thank God. Fallon’s a shithole.”

Jake’s mouth is open to respond when he clocks someone with curly dark hair behind you, moving forward decisively to your side.

“Babe,” the guy says, and Jake’s spine stiffens, noting the inch or two he has over this mystery guy out of reflex. “Hope you weren’t waiting long.”

There’s a split second where your expression shutters, where Jake thinks the fight or flight thrumming through him might not be necessary.

But as quickly as it shows up it’s gone, and he finds himself hoping the boom of jets taking off covers up the sound of his chest cracking open.

“Brandon, this is Hangman. We were in the same class at TOPGUN.”

Jake’s mouth is dry, tongue glued to the roof of his mouth as he internally winces at the obvious reduction of your history.

“Riot,” Brandon says, sticking his hand out to shake. Jake tries not to crush the bones in his fingers.

Riot and Violet, he thinks sarcastically. How cute.

“You’re with the Eightballers.” Jake glances at his patches, making sure to keep his tone neutral.

Helicopters. He wants to roll his eyes.

Riot nods and you grin, letting it light up your whole face. “His friends can’t believe he ended up with a jet bro. Can you imagine the shit I have to endure, hanging out with these helo knuckleheads?”

You're unmistakably fond, and Jake feels bile rising in his throat. Mercifully, he’s saved from having to answer by a group of pilots trying to get your attention.

“It was good to see you." Your smile softens as you turn to leave, the sun shining around your head, painting you in gold.

He nods. “I’m sure I’ll see you guys around.”

Jake doesn’t sprint to get away from you, he’s too calculated for that, but it’s a near thing. If his strides are just a touch longer than normal, no one has to know.

North Island, 2024

“It’s nice, what you guys have,” Jake's mouth is saying outside the Hard Deck, celebrating your fucking engagement, of all things. The words taste like acid on his tongue.

“Don’t tell me, eternal bachelor, Jake Seresin is thinking about settling down. The women of California will be knocking down your front door.”

Jake wants to laugh, that that’s still what you think of him. But knowing it’ll just come out thick and wet, he keeps the noises to himself. He hasn’t done much in the last year to combat that reputation – Coronado’s smaller than he’d like and you’ve never seen him with the same girl twice because he hasn’t been with the same girl twice.

What’s that they say about old habits?

He takes another sip of his beer instead. “No.”

The teasing is still lighting up your features, barely visible in the moonlight. “Just an introspective mood then, huh? Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Thinking about what it might’ve been like.”

“What?”

“To be with you.”

You blink.

“You never gave me a shot,” Jake continues. He can’t help himself. “You were always convinced I wouldn’t pull the trigger.”

“I don’t think you would have.”

“I think you’re wrong. Doesn’t matter now though, does it?”

Jake tries to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. He can’t help but reach out for you, squeezing your wrist one last time, studiously avoiding looking at the diamond on your other hand. “I’m happy for you, sweetheart.”

It’s only partially a lie.

Jake wishes he could say the noise wakes him up, but he’s already busy staring at his ceiling fan and its endless circles when he hears the pounding on his front door.

He knows it’ll be you before he finishes rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes.

“What the hell is your problem?”

Jake scrubs his hand over his chin, nose scrunching. “Sweetheart, it’s the middle of the night.”

You glower at him in response.

Whether it’s for the term of endearment or the fact that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut in the face of your blinding diamond ring or some combination of the two, he doesn’t know. What he does know is that you have every right to be mad at him, after spilling secrets he’s held close to his chest for years.

He sighs, wishing he could say the timing was an accident, but he can’t lie to himself quite that well. “Come inside at least, so the neighbors don’t call the cops.”

Apparently, your earlier question was rhetorical because the moment the door is closed, you’re rambling, talking at him, really. After a couple of minutes of watching you spew a bunch of nonsense to skirt around the issue at hand, with no end in sight, Jake sighs again and moves into the kitchen to pour himself a drink.

The wooden chair creaks as he settles his weight into it, sliding a glass over to you wordlessly. He’s not even sure you’ll notice it’s there, but you pick it up and gesticulate wildly with it before taking a sip. He’s somewhat impressed you don’t spill a drop.

You haven’t sat down, can’t seem to stop moving and Jake wishes he had a toothpick.

“We were so chaotic, Jake. We wouldn’t have worked.”

You finally look at him, taking a deep breath. Jake wonders about your lung capacity since you clearly haven’t breathed since barging into his off-base housing.

“I’m not arguing.”

You’re pacing back and forth, frustration bleeding from every pore. “What do you want me to say?”

Despite everything, Jake manages a smirk at that, albeit dimmer than normal. “I haven’t said anything for, like, ten entire minutes.”

The scowl he gets for that little comment is unbearably cute. He tries to ignore the tightening in his chest, stay in reality. “Is that what you stormed over to my house in the middle of the night to tell me, that we shouldn’t be together?”

You visibly deflate. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

There’s an inkling in the back of Jake’s brain that says he does, but he tells it to shut up.

You do not have a history of sticking around when it comes to verbal confrontation, and he’s painstakingly aware that one misstep could have you sprinting out the door.

It was something that worked well with you two, at the beginning, when everything was easy and fun. Blowing off steam with the competition, neither of you had ever been any good at talking so you figured why bother?

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Why now? Don’t you think your timing sucks a little bit?”

“I don’t know.”

It’s a lie.

He knows. As much as he’d like to tell himself he was overwhelmed, seeing the ring on your finger, watching everyone congratulate you and your fiancé, deep down he knows that’s not true.

Like everything he does, it was deliberate. There was something telling him this was his last chance. Is his last chance.

“If I could stop loving you, I would.”

You drop down into the chair across from him, stalling as your brain clearly restarts.

“Loving, present tense?”

There’s a weariness to your voice that he doesn’t like one bit, which makes his heart drop into his stomach as he’s reminded of the risk in telling you this. A calculated risk, but still a risk. One where he’s already bet big, his chips all in, but the river is flipping over, and his gut tells him before he sees it that it’s not the card he needs.

He takes a sip of his Balcones, hoping the burn scorches the rampage building beneath his ribs.

You purse your lips, waiting for a response.

Jake shrugs, but he’s aware it doesn’t have the effect he’s going for when the tension refuses to bleed from his shoulders.

You look like you’ve forgotten how to breathe and will pass out any minute now. Jake debates the merits of passing out to get out of the hell that is this confession.

He avoids your eyes instead. Coward, his brain screams at him, willing him to look up at meet your gaze. “I’ve tried to stop.”

Hangman makes strategic withdrawals. When someone can’t be needled into responding, he pulls back. This is different. He’s never backed down from confrontation out of fear and he hates it, like he’s just discovered his skin doesn’t quite fit him.

Your mouth opens and closes several times without a noise leaving and it frustrates him to no end. When he grits his teeth, he doesn’t know if it’s to hold back the pleading and desperation or frustration at having flayed himself open only to receive silence. “Say something.”

“I’m shipping out,” you tell him as if that’s any sort of answer. “On Monday.”

Jake blinks. That's only three days from now, he wants to say. Opens his mouth and closes it, once, twice. Doesn’t bother with a third time. It won't change anything.

Maybe that is his answer. Let this go, this hope he’s carried onto multiple aircraft carriers, through several states, across endless miles of sky.

This is you telling him to let you go. To start over.

Hawaii, 2025

Some things have changed in 2025. Jake’s ability to control his mouth at the sight of you is not one of them.

“Where’s our helo hero?”

He feels pretty good about that one. As hard as it is to see you, as much as his entire being aches to touch you, he’s going to be normal with you and your fiancé. He owes you that at least.

Unfortunately, for him or for you – he doesn’t know who suffers more at this point – normal includes the patented Hangman barbs he just can’t seem to let go of.

“Seresin,” Phoenix whispers harshly.

Jake immediately thinks he’s missing a puzzle piece, that he’s flying blind, making a drop decision without a laser. Unwilling to admit anything he does what he always does; he rolls his shoulders back and smirks.

You shift from on your feet, clearly uncomfortable. “He’s not coming.”

He can’t resist the jab, but it feels sticky in his mouth. “Aw, come on, the rest of us managed to sync up our leaves, but helos are just too important?”

Phoenix pinches the bridge of her nose, scowling at him, murder in her eyes. “Hangman, shut up.”

He tries to pretend that look doesn’t send chills down his spine, but he’s man enough to admit that Natasha Trace could put the fear of God into just about anyone.

You cough, shifting uncomfortably on your feet. “Uh, we broke up.”

Jake looks around, sure the world is suddenly tilting the wrong way on its axis. Fortunately, the rest of the group seems to be trickling in, so you and Phoenix don’t detect his crisis.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs quietly while Phoenix is distracted by Bradshaw strutting towards them. “I didn’t know.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile, a mask so familiar he feels like he’s staring into a mirror. Jake’s seen this cover before, it’s fight or flight. In the next few seconds, you’ll either be pretending he doesn’t exist, or you’ll be cutting through his armor with a few well-placed, very specific remarks.

You angle away from him, surveying Fanboy and Payback to your left. “All good, Hang.”

Flight it is.

Several bars and a few too many shots later, Coyote elbows Jake in the side. “What’s up with you tonight?”

“Just bored of beating y’all in darts,” Jake insists with a cocky grin he knows doesn’t reach his eyes. He just hopes no one notices.

Luckily for him, the only person that always sees straight through his bullshit smirks is you. And you’re at the bar, waiting patiently for the bartender, politely making conversation with some cheesy tourist.

A guy in an atrocious Hawaiian shirt (that he probably bought yesterday at the nearest ABC store, his internal monologue snidely adds) is clearly hitting on you and Jake forgot what it’s like to watch this. Because it’s been years since you were single, he forgot how it feels with sharks circling in the water around you, seeing you make small talk with strangers who have no reason to stop because you’re so goddamn kind and there’s no boyfriend for you to mention that will abruptly end their interest.

There’s a chance you actually want to talk to this chump, but Jake promptly tells that line of thought to kick rocks.

He kind of wants to throw himself into the ocean and drift away from this stupid vacation he should’ve never agreed to. Mrs. Lee will be fine watering his plants if he never comes back, right?

Because once upon a time, in a shitty bar in Lemoore, he’d save you so you wouldn’t have to turn anyone down and he’d tease you, that no one that’s seen you in the air, so quick and decisive and cunning, would ever believe you’d need a knight in shining armor to keep the creeps at bay. You’d tell him to shut up before dragging him out of there by his belt.

He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the memory. As it stands, the ocean is probably his best bet.

“Pool?” You ask when you return with a fresh mojito, sans cheesy Hawaiian shirt, and everyone rolls their eyes.

“Miss the Hard Deck already, Vi?” Fanboy teases.

Even though the ice between you hasn’t completely thawed yet, Jake ignores him in favor of getting up, making his way toward the table in silent agreement. He figures it’ll give him something to do besides staring at the side of your head.

If his mid-game trash talk is a little pointed, a little too on the nose; well, that’ll stay between the two of you.

Jake tenses as he hears the back door of the bar swing open behind him, footsteps heavy and likely belonging to a number of people he doesn’t want to explain his sour mood to right now.

“Surprised you and Vi aren’t still going at it at the pool table, thought it was about to be a rematch of TOPGUN in there,” Rooster says.

“Couldn’t beat me then, can’t beat me now." He chuckles out of reflex more than anything, but it feels hollow and forced. "Sometimes I just like to rile her up, get her out of that shell she always wears on the ground.”

Rooster hums in agreement. “Better than the last time I saw you two together. You barely looked at each other then.”

During the Maverick mission, Jake hears lingering in the silence in the humid Hawaii air.

“Sure,” the blond says, willing to agree to anything that stops this train in its tracks.

“There a story there?” Rooster asks slowly, careful as ever.

“No,” he answers, but it’s rote, automatic. Even Bradshaw isn’t dense enough to miss the friction between you two, Jake knows that.

Rooster raises an eyebrow and Jake pointedly ignores him in favor of pulling a toothpick out of his pocket.

“How’s your girl, Bradshaw? Are you guys ever going to stop living in sin and tie the knot?”

He doesn’t comment on the abrupt change of subject, shrugging. “We’re happy. She’s pretty focused on her career right now. But when she’s ready.”

“I guess when you start fucking your roommate it’s nothing but sin from there on out, anyways, huh?”

The other man grins. “Jealous?’

Jake can’t help the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, an admission in its own right. Just not for what Rooster's implying. “Maybe.”

“Planning on coming after my girlfriend? Gotta tell you, Hangman, back in Virginia she was never very impressed by you.”

“She’s not my type. Any girl that’s into that atrocious caterpillar above your lip clearly has impaired vision.”

The other man brushes aside the dig easily. “That’s right. You only had eyes for Vi back then.”

Jake fights a full-body cringe, blaming the fact that he just walked straight into Rooster’s trap on the shots he took with Javy earlier. “What do you know? You hated me in Oceana.”

“Who says I don’t hate you now?”

“Touché.”

Rooster sighs, long-suffering like he can’t believe he’s the one that got saddled with the job of making sure Jake isn’t gonna lose it and ruin their vacation. “Seresin, you’re not the only one who notices things.”

Jake doesn’t need to dignify that with an answer. He’ll turn in his wings the day Rooster is more observant than him.

“Seems like forever ago, now, but I always thought she had a thing for you too.”

“I don’t know where you got that from, she was always arguing with me.”

Rooster waves it off. “Pulling your pigtails. Sound familiar?” He shoots him a knowing look that Jake pretends he doesn’t see, which unfortunately just gives mustache boy the idea he should continue.

“Yeah, sure,” Jake agrees, not without an air of sarcasm. Rooster may be right but it’s not like he’s going to genuinely admit that.

“D’you ever play Sudoku? My mom always loved it.”

Jake tries not to get whiplash, schooling his face into something neutral. He doesn’t know the ins and outs of Bradshaw’s childhood, but enough to know the other man’s putting a lot of faith in him by bringing his mom up at all.

“Did she?” he echoes, for lack of anything better to say.

Rooster nods, eyes far away, unfocused. “The thing about Sudoku is, you have to think about where you’re placing the numbers, so they don’t interfere with numbers in other boxes and lines.”

Jake barely bites back the word obviously, accompanied by a roll of his eyes.

“When we started dating, things weren’t always easy. We went from zero to sixty at the beginning, already living together.”

“But your mom loved sudoku,” Jake says, albeit dryly. “So, you knew to look at the puzzle as a whole.”

Rooster knocks their shoulders together in agreement, now you’re getting it.

“We had to slow down, take a look at what we were doing, where we were going, talk so that we didn’t fuck it up before it could even start.”

The blonde sighs. Leave it to Rooster to use some convoluted metaphor for Jake to parse out when his brain already feels like it’s been muddled alongside the mint in your mojitos.

“M’not the guy you should go to for relationship advice, normally.”

Jake snorts. “No shit.”

Rooster shoots him a bit of side-eye for that but nonetheless barrels on. “But I’ve known you and Vi a long time. For the better part of a decade.”

And isn’t that a thought, that Bradshaw of all people would be the one to know you and Jake better than anyone else?

“Is this your long-winded way of saying Vi and I need to slow down?”

He shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not. Just gotta figure out the key. Whatever that looks like for you guys.”

Jake turns it over in his head a few times, pushing down his every instinct to blow this off, to make a joke that breaks the intensity that’s thicker than the Hawaii humidity.

“Patience,” he mutters, because of course it would be that for Bradshaw. “Trusting you’ll get there when you get there, not letting the pressure get to you guys.”

“Hm?”

“That’s your key.”

“Yeah,” Rooster nods, before taking a pull of his drink. “But maybe our puzzles are different.”

Jake scrunches his nose, so unused to metaphors and convoluted thinking. His head is still a jumbled mess, unpacking everything he’s learned in the last twelve hours.

“Sometimes you have to drop down and take the shot. Don’t pretend like that’s not in your wheelhouse, Seresin. You’ve always held back with her. Too scared she’s the only one that can keep up with you, maybe. That she's the only one you won’t shake off your tail.”

Rooster is frighteningly insightful tonight. Jake resolves to switch to whatever he’s drinking the moment he goes back inside.

“What would you have me do?” He asks, maybe a little more abrupt than Rooster deserves.

“Basic, normal, human communication would be a start.”

Jake flips him off.

“Not letting her go again, would be the next.”

It only takes Jake one Dark ‘n’ Stormy (of course, Rooster was drinking something that Jake felt like an idiot ordering) to build up the courage to follow you outside.

“You called it off.”

It’s not what he planned to say when he saw you sneaking out the back door of the bar. He was going to let you bring it up, maybe goad you into telling him what happened.

But he’s starting to realize his puzzle is less of a Sudoku and more of a jigsaw. He doesn’t know all the steps to complete the goal and won’t know until he’s in the middle of it. Each step comes up when it needs to, and he’ll have to figure it out then.

At least, he thinks that’s the point Bradshaw was trying to make. You two have to talk about something real, at some point, but patience hasn’t gotten him anywhere with you in the last five years.

You nod, staring into the distance, eyes focused on the water ahead.

“When?”

“Right before I deployed.”

Jake balks. He’s not sure what he expected your answer to be, but it wasn’t that. “And you didn’t think that was something you should tell me?”

You look down at your hands. Jake suddenly feels like an idiot, for not thinking anything of your bare ring finger. He should’ve known. He just assumed you’d become one of the many pilots that’s allergic to wedding rings.

“I wasn’t—I didn’t know what to say.”

There’s something working its way into the edges of his earshot, a timer dinging, the buzz of the right answer chiming. He laughs but there’s no humor in it. It’s only because otherwise, he’ll scream, as the puzzle pieces finally fit together.

“That was almost a year ago,” he mutters because he’s a glutton for punishment.

You continue staring at the water, still refusing to meet his gaze.

And he remembers, you’ve never been good at saying the hard things. As fierce as you are in the air, you temper your words on the ground, too wary to cut someone to the bone.

Shrinking violet, he thinks, wondering who was even well-read enough in your first squadron to know that reference.

He takes your silence for the answer that it is, nodding curtly and squeezing your wrist before turning to go back inside, a mirror of the last time his chest felt like candy glass, just waiting for the director to start the next take so it could have its turn to be shattered.

You finally turn to him, eyes glassy with tears. “Jake, I…”

He can’t wait for you to finish, doesn’t want to hear an excuse. Patience has never been his strong suit.

Jake shakes his head, biting his cheek to keep the tears at bay. You’ve never seen him cry and he’ll die before he lets that change on the back patio of this kitschy tiki bar. “Message received, Vi.”

Fucking Rooster. This is why he put this off for so long. It’s excruciating.

“No, Jake—that’s not what I—”

“Loud and clear, Violet.”

“I didn’t know if you’d feel the same way once I was single,” you say suddenly, and it stops him in his tracks. “You seem to forget you never said anything until I was supposed to marry someone else.”

“Then why?”

“Why what?”

Jake wants to pull his hair out. “Why did you call off the fucking wedding? Because it sure as shit wasn’t for me or you would’ve mentioned it sometime in the ten months.”

“I was with him for two years, Jake. That doesn’t just go away. I didn’t want to tell you before I knew where my own head was at.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Silence.

He turns to leave again, knowing the panic is showing itself in his shaky hands and uneven voice. Desperately, he wishes he had a toothpick or a beer label, something to tear at so his expression could remain carefully blank, tone collected.

When you finally speak again, your voice is thick and heavy with emotion, muffled by unshed tears. “Because.”

Jake raises an eyebrow, not bothering to figure out what expression is playing itself out on his face.

You clear your throat. You play with the hem of your dress. You look anywhere except his eyes.

Fight or flight, he says silently. What’s it gonna be, Vi?

He hopes to God it’s fight.

“Because you don’t marry someone when you’re in love with someone else.”

It takes a few seconds for the meaning of your words to register. He feels like he’s underwater, slow and sluggish, when he finally asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Takes more than love to make a relationship work, Jake.”

It’s funny, how you choose the words Jake has repeated to himself in his weaker moments. When he wondered if loving you was enough, if it could overcome that you two are so much more similar than anyone would guess. You might have a reputation for mincing your words, but he’s the only one that takes that for what it is – a mask. He’s spent enough time underneath one to recognize it when he sees it. It’s your way of keeping people at bay, staying in control, not letting anyone climb those walls you’ve spent so long carefully building.

Someone would have to take their hands off the controls, even for a second. Neither of you knows what it’s like to rely on someone else. To not take the lead. To let someone else have your back.

“You have to be able to give me a chance sometime,” he counters, as gently as he can manage. “Let go of the reigns enough to let me try. Trust me to take the shot.”

“I’ve never been very good at that, especially with you,” you say, nodding and Jake’s chest is getting lighter by the second, that you've thought about this. “But I also knew it was going to take me time, to work through ending things with him. I couldn’t ask you to wait.”

“I did anyways.”

You raise your eyes to him at that. “You did?”

“I told you if I could stop loving you, I would have already.”

You exhale shakily, fingers twitching like you want to touch him, but just falling short in the air between you. “I didn’t – By now I thought you would’ve – fuck, Jake. I didn’t think you meant that. Thought you just needed time to get over me.”

He wants to laugh, feels it twitching at the corners of his mouth. “In less than a year? Have you met you?”

You grin at that, rich and bright and open like he hasn’t seen in far too long, and there’s something loosening in your defensive posture. “A lot of people would say ten months is a long time.”

Jake feels fuzzy, from his chest to his fingers as he reaches to pull you into him. You fold back against him, and he ducks his face into your hair, nudging around to get his lips on your jaw, letting his words get muffled by your skin. “Ten months is a blip on the radar.”

He feels you melt into him and finds the courage to lay the rest of it on the line.

“Doesn’t matter anyways because it hasn’t been ten months. It’s been six years. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

“Sorry, I’m so slow. Hard to keep up with the infamous Hangman. I hear he flies like his ass depends on it.” The teasing is back in your tone, and it spreads warmth all over him.

You reach up to where his forearm rests on your collarbones, where he can’t bear to loosen his hold on you, his fingers twisting in the strap of your tank top.

The entire line of your back is touching him, his nose tucked into the crook of your neck smelling citrus and vanilla and home, but it’s still not enough, as far as Jake is concerned. Too many years spent apart, too many moments with you just out of reach have him itching for more.

“It’s okay,” he breathes against your neck. “As long as we get here in the end.”

“I trust you,” you whisper. “You know that right?”

He nods, fighting a shiver as your hand drifts across from his elbow to his hand. You run your thumb across his pulse point, fingers encircling his wrist. You squeeze, and he feels your promise.

This time he gets to start over with you.

"because you don't marry someone when you're in love with someone else" was stolen from michael westen in burn notice, episode 2.15 sins of omission (fantastic show!) although i changed the wording a little bit

thanks for reading!

#top gun maverick #hangman #ugly cries

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techni-coloured · 2 years

Text

jake seresin…. you little bitch

The Professor | Chapter 6 | A Jake Seresin AU

Previous Part | masterlist | next part warnings: age gap (reader is 21, Jake is 35), mentions of smut, drinking, power imbalance, mentions of blackmail, mentions of raw sex, mentions of parental death, smut, piv, unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), Jake is mean and so are his sisters word count: 3.9k

“Let me get this straight. . . you are actually fucking our professor, Derek knows about it and threatened to expose you and Professor Seresin just invited you to dinner. . . with his mother?” Lucy asked you.

“Yep.”

“I need another bottle of wine,” Lucy sighed and finished off the last bit in her glass. It was a wednesday night tradition of watching the previous two days worth of the Bachelor and drinking wine. You had to tell her about everything that was happening. Your mind was going to explode if you didn’t, and it felt like a weight off your shoulder in a way.

“Bring in the chardonnay!”

“How did Derek even find out?” Lucy asked, coming back to sit beside you on the couch, with said wine bottle in her hand and the plate of cookies that had been cooling on the stove.

“Saw us making out in Jake’s office. Peaked through the blind like a creep,” You shivered and Lucy laughed.

“Have you told. . . Jake?” Lucy wiggled her eyebrows, and you shook your head, “Why not? Y/N, you should tell him so he can protect himself too. I mean Derek is kinda right. . . Professor Seresin can lose his whole career over this.”

“I know!” You sighed and flopped down on the couch, “It’s just, how do I even bring it up? And when? It’s not like we exactly talk about these sorts of things.”

“Tell me,” Lucy set her wine glass down on the coffee table, and turned to face you completely, “Do you like him?”

You sucked in a breath. Before it was easy to say that you didn’t. That you hated Professor Jake Seresin and all you wanted to do was get through his dreadful class and take whatever grade you could scrape by with. But over the past weeks and getting to know what was the other part of Professor Seresin, things had begun to complicate. You had realized that Professor Seresin and Jake were two separate entities. Professor Seresin, you hated, but Jake, you liked.

“I don’t know,” You answered truthfully, “He’s different outside of the lectures. He really does care about his students, and takes his time reading all of our papers and giving feedback. And he’s funny, he’s really fucking funny. And so damn smart, like it’s crazy the amount of literature he has stored in that mind of his. And he’s sweet, gosh, he can tell if I’m having a bad day or if something is off with one of his friends.”

“Are you sure you’re making the right choice? Sleeping with him?”

“It’s just sex,” You mumbled and took a sip of wine.

“People having “just sex” don’t invite you to meet their mothers for dinner,” Lucy pointed out and you sighed, running a hand down your face, “But! If you’re happy, and safe! There better not be little blonde literary geniuses popping out in nine months.”

“IUD,” You nodded, “Tested and perfected.”

“Damn dude, you’re letting him hit it raw.”

“LUCILLE!” You threw a pillow at her.

Lucy laughed and tossed the pillow back at you. She grabbed her wine glass and took a sip of the dark liquid, “Like I was saying, if you’re happy, and safe, then more power to ya. Get that dick, girl!”

“Preach to that,” You said and clinked your glass against hers. The two of you settled into silence for a moment, watching as the bachelor was finishing up his date with one of the contestants when it hit you, “Holy shit! . . . I’m having dinner with his mother.”

You really didn’t know the first thing about meeting the parents. You’ve met past boyfriends parents, but that was back in high school. Coming from a small school, in a small community, you had grown up with the boys that you had dated, and their parents already knew you. Derek had introduced you to his parents during parents weekend last fall, and you were three sheets to the wind intoxicated and could hardly remember it. But this was different, you were meeting Mrs Olivia Montgomery-Seresin, wife of a Texas Senator. The mother of your professor who you were fucking.

Jake told you it was nothing too important, just that his mother was in town and while having coffee with her one morning, he had accidentally let it slip that he was seeing someone new. He wasn’t sure if he said it out of jealousy from the fact his mother brought up Allison, but it had happened and he had apologized to you profusely. He even went as far as sending you some money so you could go get a new outfit for tonight, which made you even more nervous.

Sitting in his driveway, you already felt out of place. There was a beautiful, pristine white cadillac sitting next to Jake’s range rover. You were suddenly very embarrassed about your Nissan Altima that you’ve had since your senior year of high school. You looked down at your phone and contemplated sending Jake a text telling him you weren’t feeling well.

“Don’t be a pussy, L/N,” You said to yourself and grabbed your purse before getting out of your car. Your black dress shoes clicked across the cement as you walked up to the door. Lucy had helped you pick out an outfit, hopefully something that would impress Mrs. Seresin. A simple pair of black dress pants, a white shirt with a pink blazer. You slick your hair back into a low ponytail, and decided to wear your mother’s diamond earrings. With the money that Jake had given you, you spent it on getting your nails done and buying a bottle of wine.

Jake opened the door before you even had a chance to knock and sighed in relief, “You’re here.”

“That I am,” You said, and Jake held the door open wider for you to walk in.

“You look nice,” Jake said and took your purse from your hand, hanging it up on the hooks by the wall, “I wonder what’s underneath this.” His breath fanned your neck as he stepped closer to you, and ran his hands down your arms. You tilted your neck to the side as he placed a soft kiss on your skin, “So fucking-”

“Jacob! Is that girl of yours here!” A female voice called out.

Jake groaned and closed his eyes, “Better not keep them waiting.”

“Them?” You asked and Jake took your hand, walking into the kitchen. Your eyes widened in surprise as you saw not just one, but three women standing in Jake’s kitchen, around the island. Jake gave your hand a squeeze before walking back over to the stove.

“Are you going to introduce yourself?” A woman with long red hair asked you.

“Oh, I, uh-”

“Nance,” Jake scolded her lightly. He walked back over to you and put his hand on the small of your back, “This is Y/N. Y/N, this is my sister Nancy, my other sister Liz, and my mother, Olivia.”

“She’s a little young for you, don’t you think, Jacob,” Nancy said, and took a sip of her wine. Nancy looked almost exactly like their mother. Red hair, green eyes, fair skin. You could see a big diamond ring sitting on her perfectly manicured hands.

“What is that you do, Y/N?” Liz asked.

“Uh, I-”

“Stutter apparently,” Nancy joked.

You gulped, and Jake stiffened behind you, “I am a fourth year English major.”

“A college student?!” Liz exclaimed, “You were right, Nance, this is a rebound from Ally.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Olivia said, “You seem like a nice young lady, Y/N. You from around here?”

“Yes ma’am, I am actually,” You said and Olivia nodded, “Grew up twenty minutes away from Chestnut Hill.” Jake patted your back and walked over to the stove, leaving you to chat with his mother.

Olivia, surprisingly, was nice like Jake had described. She welcomed you somewhat better than Nancy and Liz had. The two Seresin girls kept staring you down, making comments about every little thing that you had said. Jake occasionally would look over at you, giving you a look to make sure you were okay. When Jake had finished cooking, you helped him set the table as his mother and sisters were sitting in the living room.

“I’m sorry about the ambush,” Jake said as he brought the pan of fish to the table, “And for not making something vegetarian. Plenty of vegetables though.”

“It’s okay,” You smiled at him, “Google didn’t tell me a whole lot about your sisters. What do they do?”

“Nothing, literally,” Jake laughed, “Nancy is married to some oil tycoon back home in Austin. And Liz is married to the CEO of Texas State Bank. They sit on their asses in their beautiful houses all day and cash in on their husbands paychecks,” Jake placed the last dish on the table and turned to face you, “They have nothing on you,” He gently lifted your chin and placed a kiss on your lips, “I think you deserve a little something extra for being good for me.”

“I think I do too,” You said, and kissed him again only to be interrupted by someone clearing their voice. You looked up to see Nancy standing in the doorway, “Dinner’s ready!”

The sound of silverware hitting the white plates was louder than you could’ve ever possibly imagined. There was no talking between anyone at the table, just the clinking of silverware and the occasional glass. Jake sat at the head of the table, and you sat on his left, his mother across from you and Nancy next to you, and Liz across from her.

“You don’t eat meat?” Nancy asked, looking at your plate of just vegetables, scratches and fruits.

“No,” Jake answered for you, “She’s a vegetarian.”

“By choice?” Olivia asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” You nodded, “My mother suffered from fertility issues due to PCOS, and when they were trying to get pregnant with me, my dad found out that an all plant based diet can help. And clearly, it did,” You smiled, “They kept with the vegetarian diet even after I was born, and well, I just kind of adopted it too.”

“Couldn't have made your own choice, I presume?” Nancy said.

“I could’ve, and I did, for a while,” You shot back, “When I moved in with my grandparents there was a bit of an adjustment time, and it was hard to maintain that plant based diet, but once I got to highschool, I picked it back up.”

“Moved in with your grandparents?” Nancy asked, “Why?”

“Nance. . . don’t,” Jake warned.

“No, it’s okay,” You said, and placed your hand in his. He squeezed your hand and dabbed at his mouth with his napkin, “My parents died in a house fire when I was a teen. I moved in with my grandparents after that.”

“Oh you poor thing,” Olivia said, “That’s awful. Jake, you never told us that.”

“She doesn’t like to talk about it,” Jake looked over at you, “As you can imagine, it’s rather hard to speak about, but it makes her incredibly strong. The reason she pursued a degree in English was because of her mother. What was it that you said she used to read to you? The Tale of-”

“Desperoux,” You said, and were slightly shocked that Jake had remembered that from your entrance essay. There was something in Jake’s eyes, as he smiled at you. He lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed it. You felt a sudden rush of warmth flood through your body. It wasn’t one of lust, no, this one was different. Something that you hadn’t felt in years.

Once dinner was cleaned up, and the dishes were in the dishwasher, the group had retired to the living room. You sat under Jake’s arm on the couch, as Nancy, Liz and Olivia sat around in the chairs, telling stories about their childhoods back in Texas. From what you had read and seen via the internet, the Seresin kids grew up on a large acreage in a small town called Mayfield, about thirty minutes outside of Austin. It was land that had been in the Seresin family for years, due to Great-Great Grandad Seresin striking it rich in the oil industry. The Seresins were the perfect picture of Old Money, each of them going to expensive private schools and marrying rich.

“And you should’ve seen the look on daddy’s face when the cops showed up at the front door!” Olivia laughed as she told a story of the time that Jake and their other sister Amelia got in trouble for racing ATVs down the streets of town square, “Oh, Jacob was such a rebel!”

“Someone had to be,” Jake laughed, “The only boy in a family of four girls. Had to prove my masculinity.”

“So you have two other girls, Mrs. Seresin?” You asked.

She took a sip of her wine and nodded, “I do, but please, darling, call me Olivia,” You blushed but nodded. Jake squeezed your shoulder, “Amelia and Kathleen. Kathy is also a professor, but works at The University of Texas teaching statistics and Amelia is a doctor in Los Angeles.”

“Really? What does she specialize in?”

“Have you talked to Ally?” Nancy asked, cutting you off. You shrinked back into Jake’s side.

“I have not,” Jake answered, “The divorce is finalized. Why would I need to talk to her?”

“Just wondering if she knows about. . . this. . .” Nancy pointed between the two of you.

“I don’t think she really needs to know what I am doing with my life now that I am single, and divorced. Something that she so clearly couldn’t bother to do, seeing as she slept with the head of the biology department.”

“Is she still teaching at Boston?”

“No,” Jake said, coldy, “She’s not. The second I kicked her out, she packed her bags and flew back to Texas.”

“Oh that will be great,” Liz rolled her eyes, “Perfect for Dad’s image. You know he’s up for-”

“God! For once can we not talk about Dad and his stupid campaign,” Jake yelled. You felt him tense and gently started rubbing his thigh to get him to calm down. He settled back a little bit and released a sharp breath, “I know, he’s up for reelection, and I know the image of his son getting a divorce and dating someone younger, probably isn’t the best thing, but doesn't it matter that I am happy.” The room was quiet for a moment, before Jake stood up from the couch, “I think that’s enough family time for the night.”

You watched as he walked out of the living room, and ran up the stairs to his room. You flinched as you heard his bedroom door slam shut. You gave his family a shy smile, before standing up from your spot.

“I’m uh. . . going to check on him. It was nice meeting you all,” You said. Olivia smiled at you, and you followed the same path as Jake did. You didn’t bother knocking as you opened the door to his bedroom, seeing him pace around. The door was barely shut behind you, when Jake was pushing you against it. He kissed you roughly, his lips pressing against yours as he pinned you down with his hips. His lips went from yours, to your neck, his beard tickling you as he sucked harshly.

“W-wait!” You pushed him back gently, “Your mother and sisters are-”

“Don’t give a fuck. I need you,” He growled out. You pushed him back towards the bed, making him sit on the edge. He reached out to grab your hips, but you smacked his hands away, “Don’t fucking-”

“Shut up,” You demanded. He quirked an eyebrow at your sudden demanding demeanor. But he listened, and watched you with list blown eyes as you pushed your blazer off your shoulders, and pulled your white shirt over your body. Jake groaned at the sight of your full tits encased in a navy blue sheer lace bra. You slowly pulled your pants down your legs, revealing the matching panties underneath.

“Don’t tease me, baby, not tonight,” Jake moaned out, “Please baby girl.”

“Not little one?” You asked him.

“If you want me to treat you like a brat, I surely can,” Jake offered, “But I remember what I said, you deserve an award for your behavior. Now, let me give it to you.” You nodded and walked over to Jake.

You climbed in his lap, a leg on either side of his hips. His arms circled around your naked torso, and held you close. He pulled you into a tender kiss, causing a low buzz to settle at the base of your spine as you grind your hips into his. You took the opportunity to push his shoulders down on the bed, your lips never leaving his. Jake let out a soft grunt as you started to kiss your way down his neck, to the top of the sweater he wore. He got the hint and dragged the sweat up and over his body. You felt the ache between your stomach intensify at the sight of his chiseled body. You continued on your mission, and kissed down his torso, to the waistband of his trousers.

“I thought I was supposed to be rewarding you,” He quipped.

“You always reward me,” You winked, and undid his belt, “Now, let me reward you.”

Jake nodded and sat up as you went down to your knees, keeping eye contact with him as you pulled his pants and boxers down. His hard length sprung free and slapped against his stomach. You nearly drooled at the sight of his bright red tip, already leaking pre-cum.

“Already hard for me?” You teased, and grabbed the base of his cock in your hand.

“Always sweetheart,” Jake hissed as you licked a stripe from his balls to his tip, “You don’t know how hard it is to not bend you over in the middle of lecture. Why do you think I stand behind the podium so much now?” One of his hands made its way to your hair, guiding your movements as you took him in your mouth. They were gentle, letting you get used to the feel of him in your mouth. Jake was big, and you had difficulty fitting all of him in your mouth. You wrapped your hand around him, and moved in tandem with your mouth.

“All the way down,” Jake said and pushed your head until your nose was flush with his pubic bone. You couldn’t help but gag around him, “Good girl. Breathe through your nose.” You tried to listen to him but gagged again, and placed your hands on his thighs. He pulled you off of him by your hair and you sucked in a deep breath, “Fucking pathetic.” He growled. Jake moved you quickly, so you were on your back underneath him.

Jake didn’t even bother with foreplay, just spitting on your pussy, and spreading it with his cock, before pushing into you. You let out a small groan at the burning stretch, but you opened your legs wider to accept his hips pushing into yours. When he was balls deep, he waited a moment, feeling you flutter around him. Jake brought his hips back, and you expected a fast, brutal pace, instead it was slow as he penetrated you. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of his cock brushing against your g-spot. Your fingers curled around his bicep for a moment, but then were gathered in one of his large hands and held above your head.

“Fuck,” Jake mumbled. His free hand grabbed your thigh, hiking your leg over his hip, so he could get even deeper. You cried out at the feeling of him being even deeper in you. You could feel the tip of his cock tapping at your cervix in painful pleasure.

“Not gonna last-” Your words were cut off by Jake leaning down to kiss you passionately. His hand that was holding your wrists, came down and grabbed your other legs, putting it over his hips. You got the hint, and locked your legs behind his back, bringing him as close to you as possible. You closed your eyes as you felt his lips sucking at your neck and collar bones. Your hands crawled at his back, surly leaving marks as his hips rolled into yours.

This is what he must have meant, you thought to yourself, the passion.

You had never felt pleasure like this before. Jake was skilled with his body, and was sending you over the edge of sure bliss. You felt your body being drugged further and further into the land of utter pleasure, and Jake could feel it too. He felt his body starting to tighten up, his balls feeling heavier, the growing fire in the pit of his stomach.

“Let go, baby,” Jake whispered in your ear, and you let out a wanton moan in response, “There you go. So good for me, so, so fucking good.”

“Oh fuck Jake,” Your legs shook, and ever coherent thought left your mind. You were totally at Jake’s mercy as he fucked himself through his own orgasm, his white seed coating your walls.

“I got you, baby, you’re okay,” Jake cooed, “Let go, let your body relax in pleasure.” His words were almost as if they were straight out of an erotica novel as he said them into your ear. You fought your mind from drifting over to the blissful post orgasm haze, but the feeling of Jake holding you tightly in his arms was enough to make you drift off.

The room was dark when you woke up. You were cold and looked down at your bare body against the white bedsheets. Sitting up, you clutched the sheets to your chest and looked around the bare room. You were still at Jake’s house, and in his bed, and naked. You smiled as you brushed your fingers over your still swollen lips. The ache between your thighs was a heavenly and painful reminder of the previous session of passion. You could say that you finally made love with someone.

You slide your panties up your legs and grab a random t-shirt from Jake’s dresser, sliding it over your body, before making your way down his stairs. You could see his frame sitting on the couch in front of the fire. He was sitting with your back to you, his arms draped over the back of the couch, and you quietly walked over to him. Jake had a glass of whiskey in one hand, as his green eyes watched the flames of the fire dance in front of him. He turned at the feeling of your hand on his shoulder.

“Why are you wearing my shirt?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh, I didn’t feel like-”

“Aren’t you leaving now?”

“What?”

“Why are you still here?” He asked, “You leave after sex. It’s the rule.”

“I don’t think what just happened was sex-”

“What did you think it was?”

You blushed and looked down at your feet, “Making love?” It came out as more of a question than you intended it to. You looked up at Jake, his face was stoic, before he broke out into a laugh.

“You think that was making love?” He laughed and you felt your heart break in your chest. Jake shook his head as he stood up from the couch, “God, you’re much more gullible than I thought.” He walked over to you and kissed the top of your head. You retracted from the feeling of his lips on your skin, “I’m taking a shower. Be gone when I get done.”

He slapped your ass and walked up the stairs, leaving you alone in the living room.

taglist: @zetasaturno99 @tallrock35 @bioodforbiood @mak-32 @cherrycola27 @drunkangels @fuckyeahhangman @the-winter-marvel33 @oldnatgwenaccount @cm27078 @xoxabs88xox @paige-alexandra-may @ereardon @marantha @inkysun @bradleybeachbabee @manunitedgotbruno @mulletmcghee @moonvr @nagygreta @cherryobx @callsign-joyride @blue-aconite @books-for-summer @violyn20 @lilylilyyyyyy @p1nkbarbi3 @princessofglitterland @hallway5 @thedroneranger @chaoticweirdogeek @abaker74 @auroraboreallisfine @materialgirl01 @fandom-princess-forevermore @averyhotchner @thedaredevilsgirl @shelbycillian @currentlybradshaw @mavesiceroo @emptyloverofmine @lovingjakeseresin @thegoddessc @techni-coloured @shawnsblue @captainmarvels-blog

note: Idk if I'm gonna post much this weekend cause it's halloween, so I hope y'all enjoy this!:) thank you so much for all the love this has gotten these past couple days.

#top gun #i hate him #not rly but yk #heartless mf

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techni-coloured · 2 years

Text

THE SCENE WITH BOB AND BRADLEY

i wanna have bradley be my bartenders

The Professor | Chapter 4 | A Jake Seresin AU

Previous Part | masterlist | next part warnings: age gap (reader is 21, Jake is 35), mentions of smut, drinking, power imbalance, making out, cursing. Slow burn, enemies to lovers?? word count: 3k

Two weeks. It had been two weeks of Jake finding himself deep inside his student really, at his convenience. He wasn’t sure how he was going to feel about it. He was never one for just random hookups when he was young. Him and Allison had been together since his freshman year. She had only been the third woman he had been with, the other two were high school girlfriends. Throughout his relationship with Allison, there had been times where they had broken up, and Jake found himself in bed with another woman, but again, that only happened about twice. He wasn’t really sure how to navigate the world of “just sex”, but he slowly caught on.

The first night after fucking you, he really didn’t think you were going to leave so soon. He was used to girls hanging around at least for a little bit, some pillow talk, maybe a glass of wine and round two, then he would walk them to their cars and kiss them goodnight. But after you declined his invitation to shower with him, he quickly understood the rules to the agreement. In fact, you had laid it pretty clear to him the next day.

“It’s simple, we fuck when we need it. Having a bad day? Yes. Hard as a rock at 11:30? Sure. One of your students said that Shakespeare isn’t real? I’m down. Just send the text,” You said and told him the emojis to use.

The first time he did send the text he thought it was very juvenile to use an eggplant and a water droplet, but it was something simple that wouldn’t distract from the various messages about grades and homework assignments. He waited patiently for you to show up, and was surprised when you promptly arrived ten minutes after the message. After screwing every legitimate thought out of your mind, Jake offered to watch a movie again, but you were sliding your panties up your legs (you took them off this time, not being able to afford another pair of ripped ones).

“Okay, listen old timer, I know they didn’t do hookups back in the-”

“I am only 35,” He rolled his eyes, “And for your information, I did hookups when I was your age. Though the women were much less annoying and demanding than-”

“Sorry I’m not going to pretend like you are doing something when in reality you are just rubbing my left lip.”

“I think I found your clit pretty eas-”

“Like I said, this is a hookup. Means you or I text one another, we come over, we fuck, we leave. There is no staying, there is no post sex cuddling, besides you sweat like a whore in Church.”

“Again, when I am doing most of the-”

“I was on top this time so you can’t even use that excuse.”

Jake huffed and rolled his eyes, “You can find your way out.”

“Im taking this,” You said and grabbed the sweatshirt he was wearing from the floor, and slipped it over your head. Jake watched as you grabbed your keys and baseball cap that you wore over. Once again, he didn’t walk you out, but peered out the window to make sure you got to your car safely. He also texted you to let him know when you got home safely. And you’d never admit it, but you smiled at your phone as you read the message.

Jake had guessed that the deal to relieve some tension was working. He had heard many of his students say that they noticed a change in his attitude. He was less angry, more willing to actually have a conversation about grades and topics and not call you stupid in the process.

Jake felt like there was a weight off his shoulders as well. He had more time to work on his next research paper with his friend Bob, and didn’t have to spend hours upon hours trying to decipher what first years were trying to say. He also noticed himself smiling, just a bit more than usual. Some chalked it up to his divorce finally going through, which he did celebrate with bending you over his desk at home, but it was more than just that.

“Many of you probably know this TV show, but it is a modern day example of Hamlet,” Jake said as he presented the slide.

“Jax fucking Teller,” You whispered to Lucy. Jake looked over at you. He was yet to meet Lucy, but from all the times you had mentioned her, he felt like he knew her.

“I’d let him do sinful things to me,” Lucy said back.

“Miss Y/N,” Jake said interrupting the conversation, “Care to explain why Jax Teller is a good example of Hamlet?”

You licked your lips as you sat a bit. The outfit you decided on today was something simple, a pair of black biker shorts and one of Jake’s old college sweatshirts. He had to refrain from looking at your ass as you bent over earlier to pick up your pencil. Somehow, you had managed to get Jake to start allowing note taking, and the whole class was thankful.

“Jax is a perfect example of Hamlet because of what happened to his father. He’s a tortured old soul with daddy issues,” You spoke and batted your eyelashes at him. Lucy had to bite back a smirk as Jake cleared his throat.

“Pay attention,” Jake said and turned back around.

“Yes professor,” You said softly. Jake closed his eyes and started thinking about anything other than hearing those words come out of your mouth as you were on your knees for him.

“If you read the assigned chapters, you should know what this slide is referring to.”

Jake was running late as he walked into the dimly lit bar. It was hardly crowded for a Wednesday night, but there was a good sized crowd. He easily spotted his friend Bob sitting at the bar chatting with Bradley. He looked up from the glass he was cleaning and shot Jake a bright smile.

“Look who decided to show up!” Bradley cheered and Jake shook his head.

“Some of us have real jobs, Bradshaw,” Jake grumbled and took off his suit coat, “Whiskey neat please.”

“And some of us aren’t miserable robots working a useless system,” Bradley said and poured Jake his drink.

Bradley Bradshaw was a smart man, a very smart man. He and Jake had gone to school together, though they studied different majors, they were in the same fraternity, so they saw each other often and had another mutual friend, Bob Floyd, who was studying astrophysics. Bradley was in his last semester of law school, already having completed and passed the Bar exam, when he came home one day to their shitty apartment in Chestnut Hill and announced he had dropped out. Bob and Jake thought he was joking, it wasn’t unlike Bradley to joke around like that. But he showed them the paperwork as proof.

“What the hell are you going to do?” Jake asked him, “Work at the bar for the rest of your life?”

“Yep,” Bradley smiled and sat back on the couch.

And that’s exactly what Bradley did. He worked at the “Main Street Bar” as a bartender all throughout undergrad and grad school. In fact, nearly three years ago, Bradley had become the owner of the bar when the previous one passed. Jake hated to admit it, but he had never seen Bradley so happy in his life, than when he was behind the bar or playing the piano. He envied Bradley for being happy with such a rash choice.

“Have you had a chance to look over that-”

“Hey, what’s the rules?” Bradley said, cutting Bob off.

“It’s not like I’m going to ask him for his dissertation notes, I just wanna know if he got my email,” Bob said and rolled his eyes. Bob had gotten his PhD in physics and also taught at Boston College. Bob was a science nerd, Jake could vividly remember the day Bob moved into the frat house and put his Star Trek sheets on his bed. Bob was quiet, shy and almost scary smart.

“I got the email, but I was a bit busy this afternoon,” Jake answered.

“Busy?” Bradley asked, and Jake nodded wordlessly, “You got a girl.”

“No, I don’t,” He rolled his eyes.

“Liar,” Bradley smirked, “Moving on so quickly after Ally? Lemme guess. . . you and Natasha finally stopped playing your stupid “i’m in town, lets fuck” game and got together.”

“It’s not Natasha,” Jake said, rolling his eyes again.

Natasha Trace was their other friend all three of them had in common. All four of them had met in a freshman stats class, and had just stuck together after that. Natasha was the only female of the group, and the three boys had decided early on they weren’t going to try and make a move on her. But Jake only half listened to that promise. Him and Natasha snuck around a bit, until he met Allison. Natasha was also the only one of the group who didn’t go to Boston College, instead, after getting her undergrad in Military science, she joined the Navy. Whenever she was in town though, Jake always made a plan to seek her out.

“It’s not Allison, again, is it?” Bob asked.

“No, god no,” Jake scoffed, “It’s uh. . . it’s a friends with benefits thing.”

“Certainly didn’t have that in my cards,” Bradley smirked, “At Least you aren’t hung up about Ally. I hate to say this now, but I never liked her.”

Neither did I, Jake said to himself.

“So, who is she?” Bradley asked, “Someone we know?”

“No,” Jake mumbled, “Listen, I don’t want-” Jake’s speech was cut off as his phone rang. He looked up at Bradley for a moment, before they both reached for his phone, but Bradley was quicker than him, “Bradshaw give it back.”

“Oh shit! Is this her? ‘Miss Thing’?” Bradley laughed. Jake shook his head, you had called yourself that once and he thought it was funny, “No passcode Jakey, tsk, tsk, dangerous,” Bradley scolded him, “Oh shit! Emojis! Bob, he got sent emojis!”

“Bradley, really give it back.”

“Nah this is just too good,” Bradley cackled, and continued scrolling, “Damn this is like every single . . wait. . . ‘Did you have a chance to look over the first draft notes I sent? Do you think it looks good?,” Jake reached out for his phone again, but Bradley pushed his arm away, “Seresin, are you fucking your student?”

“Holy shit,” Bob said.

“No, just,” Jake sighed, “Yes, but it’s not like that. It’s just for stress relief.”

“Jake, that isn’t-”

“Way to fucking go, Seresin!” Bradley laughed, cutting Bob off, “Finally doing something cool with your life.”

Bob shook his head, “Jake, you can’t be doing that. What if-”

“I know,” Jake shook his head. He had thought about what could happen if people find out that he was fucking his student it could all end badly. You and Jake had even talked about the dangers of being caught, which was why they made a promise to not do anything on campus, and always after 7PM. Jake swirled his whiskey in his glass, “We talked about it. And it’s strictly sex, I’m not doing her any favors. Only other thing she’s doing for me is helping me grade first year papers.”

“But she’s still your student, Jake.”

“She won’t be like a couple months,” Bradley shrugged, “You're half through the semester, she won’t be taking your class again unless she completely fails it. I don’t see a problem with getting to know your students.”

Bob scoffed and shook his head.

“Bob, I need you not to tell anyone. She consented all on her own, I didn’t force her. She knows that she can stop at any time and without consequence,” Jake said to his friend. Bob looked at him and clenched his jaw.

“Fine,” Bob said, and drank down the rest of his glass, “Well what are you still doing sitting here? She sent you emojis.”

Jake cracked a smile and Bradley handed his phone back. He said goodbye to them before heading out of the bar. Your car was already sitting on the street when he arrived. He didn’t mind that you always came to him, and he hadn’t seen your house, save for the time he dropped you off one night. You said that it was too risky for him to be there with your roommate and her boyfriend around. Jake whistled to himself as he opened the door to his house and jogged up the stairs.

“Took you long enough,” You said as Jake opened the bedroom door to find you in nothing but lace red bra and panties. Jake felt himself stiffen in his dress pants.

“Where did you get this?” Jake said and gestured towards her undergarments.

“Someone left a card with some cash in my backpack and said ‘buy something nice. And red’ on it,” You smirked and pushed yourself up on your knees at the edge of the bed. Jake walked over, his hands going straight for your hips.

“Glad you spent it on more than just alcohol,” He nodded.

You rolled your eyes and ran your hands over the expensive dress shirt he was wearing. Your hands helped push his suit coat off and landed on the floor. Grabbing his face softly in your hands, you pulled him in for a kiss. His hands went to your ass, squeezing it in his hands. You gasp and he slips his tongue into your mouth. Jake leans you back on the soft bed, and your legs wrapped around his waist pulling his hips to be flush with yours. You moaned at the feeling of his already erect cock hitting your core.

“You’re needy, you know that,” Jake laughed, “Already wet for me and I didn’t even do anything.

“I sit in class and listen to you rant about stupid shit and get turned on,” You admited.

“Really?” Jake asked, and you nodded, “Gonna have to show me next time. But for now,” He grabbed your hips and turned you around so you were on your front, he slapped your ass making you jump slightly, “That didn’t even hurt, quit acting like it did.”

“You going to fuck me or talk the whole time?” You looked over your shoulder, “Cause I can leave and finish this job myself. My vibrator does a pretty nice job.”

“One, shut up,” Jake said as he discarded his dress shirt, and trousers, “Two, bring your vibrator next time, I want to use it,” He slid his boxers down his legs and climbed on top of you. You sucked in a breath as his hands spread your cheeks apart. He groaned at the sight of your wet cunt. He ran a finger through your slit, and before pushing it into your opening. He pumped his finger in and out of you a bit, working you open for him. When he felt like you were ready, he lined his cock up with your weeping hole.

“Three, I will always fuck you,” He slid into you with ease. Every time he fucked you, it was easier for him to slide into your cunt, your body now getting use to his size. It was still a bit of a stretch, and Jake waited just a moment for you to adjust to his size, starting off slow and working up to a faster more brutal pace that had you screaming his name.

Derek was being pushed to the side and he couldn’t stand it. At first, he summed it up to you being busy with your studies. Everyone was busy as it was nearing midterms, stressing out on whether or not they should continue with certain classes, trying hard to make high marks on their upcoming exams and papers. You hadn’t been out drinking on Friday nights with Lucy and Zeke like normal. You also didn’t leave class with him and Lucy either, almost always staying after class to talk to Professor Seresin.

Professor Seresin. Derek hated him. Derek had spent nearly six hours writing on his last paper, even having it looked at by the writing and media center, and sent it in before the due date, and ended up getting an F on it. Derek had tried to ask Professor Seresin for an explanation on the grade, since he didn’t believe in rubrics or giving proper feedback. But Professor Seresin merely dismissed Derek and others and told them his famous line of “drop date is coming up soon.”

“Do you think something is going on with Y/N and Professor Seresin?” Derek asked Zeke as the two of them walked to class. Zeke looked over at his friend and shrugged, “It’s just. . . she’s ignoring me again. She hasn’t invited me over in weeks!”

“Maybe because she doesn’t like you,” Zeke laughed.

“She likes me.”

“No dude, she doesn’t. Lucy tells me nearly everything they talk about. And Y/N does not like you,” Zeke answered as he opened the door to one of the lecture halls, “And why are you here so early? Your class isn’t for. . . another hour?”

“Going to talk to Professor Seresin,” Derek said, “Ask him about this stupid lecture quiz grade. But I’ll see you later.”

Zeke nodded to Derek and went his separate way towards his class. Derek walked up to the floor of Professor Seresin’s office. He had rehearsed what he was going to say over and over. He was going to demand that Professor Seresin explained the reasoning for his grades and that he raise the grade of his last quiz. Derek fixed the collar of his sweatshirt as he arrived outside the door. He raised his hand to knock on the door, but froze, seeing two people through the crack in the blinds. He squinted as he moved his body over to the side a bit, so he could see through the blinds easier.

“Holy shit,” Derek’s eyes widened as he saw you perched on Professor Seresin’s lap, your hands tangled in his hair, and his lips on yours, “Jesus Christ. . . no wonder he’s been so nice lately. He’s fucking my girl.”

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#top gun maverick #bob floyd #bradley bradshaw #i hate derek

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