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ohgodnotagainn · 3 months

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eeeeeekkkkk i love these two so much it hurts😩

“to your boyfriend whose frown is growing by the second.”

i LOVEEEEEE that they are officially dating now - i love just getting snippets from their relationship as it evolves it slays an unreasonable amount

“You don’t dare remind him camping had been Bradley’s idea, knowing it will only set him off further.”

the rivalry that transcends all space and time

“You know, we could just tell them.”

😱😱😱😱 WAIT HOLD AWNNNNN ITS A SECRET?

“After kissing Jake at Thanksgiving, he’d taken you out on date after date all the while asking you to keep it a secret from your friends.”

this fucking guy

“Having to keep his hands to himself is killing him, you can tell.”

man horrified to learn he has to face the consequences of his own actions!

“Well, I’m not having any fun.””Don’t let Bradshaw take my spot.” He grumbles, standing up.

he gives kenergy to the fullest extent

“Oh, you’re kidding. Oh my God, fucking finally!”

thank GOD everyone knows now, i forgot how to breath waiting for them to get found out

“His girl.” Bob repeats, an amused smile on his face.”

i can picture this look on his face and it’s making me feel so sweet inside

“It does mean, however, that you get to hear Bob smugly announce to the group that they all owe him money.”

SJSJSJSJSJSJSJ he would!!! he woulddddd!!!!!

like real people do (j.h.s.)

a/n: i watched set it up for the first time last night and got so inspired to write more for these two. please enjoy.

summary: A camping trip means secrets come a-tumbling out.

second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)

warnings: swearing, allusions to sex

word count: 1.7k

“we could just kiss like real people do”

Jake huffs, letting his hands fall to his hips as he stares at his closet.

“I don’t own anything to go camping.” You peer over the top of your phone to your boyfriend whose frown is growing by the second.

“It’s one night Jake.”

“Who’s stupid idea was this anyways?” He grumbles, pulling a sweatshirt out of his closet before tossing it on the ground.

You don’t dare remind him camping had been Bradley’s idea, knowing it will only set him off further.

California offered relatively warm winters, but Bradley had found a campsite up north in Julian that was still open, offering the possibility of snow as an incentive to the group to go. Jake had been less than pleased by the idea but had caved to the enthusiasm of his friends, as long as you had promised to go with.

As the frustration grows in Jake's shoulders, you sigh.

“Jake, just come sit down for a second.”

He does, sliding across the bed. He positions himself to lay on top of you, in between your legs. His head meets your stomach as you reach down to curl your fingers in his hair.

With the season finally being over, he was letting it grow out a bit more than he normally did and you’d be lying to say you weren’t enjoying getting to curl your fingers in it at all moments.

“How is this gonna work Jake?” You mutter as his eyes flutter close. “You can barely keep your hands to yourself as it is.” He grunts, the vibrations settling against your stomach. “Are you gonna be able to manage while we’re out of town?”

He shrugs as his arms sneak under your body, wrapping around your stomach. “No.” He says petulantly. “Which is why I think we shouldn’t go. I can think of much better ways to spend our time than shivering our asses off in a sleeping bag on dirt for a night.”

He grins up at you through his eyelashes as you give him a displeased look. “We’re going.”

He groans, face falling into your stomach.

“You know, we could just tell them.”

After kissing Jake at Thanksgiving, he’d taken you out on date after date all the while asking you to keep it a secret from your friends. While he’d said at the time that it’s because they had all been so invested in the two of you getting together that they wouldn’t have let the two of you learn each other in private, you couldn’t help the pit in your stomach that it was because a guy like Jake didn’t want to be seen with a girl like you.

“No, because then they’re all gonna be up my ass.” His voice is muffled by the cotton of Jake’s t-shirt you’re wearing. “And I like having you all to myself.”

You sigh, beginning to push back his hair again. “We’re gonna have to tell them eventually.”

“Yeah, eventually. Right now, you’re all mine.”

Having to keep his hands to himself is killing him, you can tell.

Jake hadn’t gotten to sit next to you in the car, which had already started the trip off poorly. Javy had been riding shotgun with Natasha driving, Bradley in the middle of you and Jake.

It had been fine, until Mickey and Reuben had bickered too much and Bob had pulled their car over and made Mickey switch cars with Jake.

You’d gotten to the campsite later than anticipated, which had made things worse. In the way sleeping arrangements played out, he was with Reuben and Bradley (both notorious for snoring and snoring loudly), Mickey and Bob in a tent together, and Nat and Javy in another. You’d managed to end up by yourself as Bradley’s girlfriend hadn’t been able to make it at the last minute due to a work emergency.

And now, you’re sitting with Nat and Bob and Mickey, playing cards as the rest of the guys stand around the grill, chatting about the upcoming baseball season at school.

Except for Jake who’s sitting by the firepit, looking decidedly irritated.

Apparently, having to keep his hands to himself meant that Jake had decided he couldn’t talk to you at all, which was now irritating you.

As you sit down with your food, you sit next to Jake, tugging his shirt. You want to appreciate the way it brings out his eyes but you can’t as you drop your voice. All your friends were still by the picnic table, but Jake had apparently decided he wasn’t eating.

“You need to chill.” You whisper. “This is supposed to be fun.”

“Well, I’m not having any fun.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Jake crosses his arms as his nostrils flare. He turns away from you, kicking his feet up on the edge of the fireplace.

“Jake.” You say firmly. “You need to go get food and breathe. You’re being a downer. I understand you don’t want to be camping but try to be a good sport about it. It’s one night; you don’t need to drag your way through it by starving and isolating yourself.”

He lets out a lengthy breath, his shoulders relaxing as he does. “Don’t let Bradshaw take my spot.” He grumbles, standing up.

“Never.”

He’s gonna walk into the creek near their campsite and find a way to drown himself in it because he can not fucking take any more of this.

He glances at his watch, seeing that it's past 3.

The group had been up late, sharing stories and playing games but after you’d called it a night just past midnight, he’d lost interest. Unfortunately for him, Reuben had already crashed an hour prior and Bradley had called it when you did.

Meaning, he was trapped between two of the world’s most obnoxious snorers. He’s sure the two men can sleep through an earthquake and he’s not sure how they wake up to their alarms for early morning practice.

He’d hardly gotten to hang out with you tonight and not in the way he wanted. He wanted to be able to have you sit in his lap, a blanket on top for warmth as you slowly started to drift off on his chest. He wanted to be able to rub circles into your thighs and run his fingers through your hair. He wanted to kiss you and hold you and laugh with you.

He knew that he couldn’t because of his own stupid rule.

A particularly loud snore from Bradley sends him rocketing up from his sleeping bag, exhaustion and irritation driving him as he tugs the tent close before walking the ten paces or so to your tent. He doesn’t even think as he slides in, tugging at the zipper of your sleeping bag.

“Jake? What’re you doing?” You ask, more awake than he thinks you should be for the hour.

“Scoot.” He says and you accommodate him, moving over in the two-person sleeping bag you’d borrowed from Nick and Carole. “I can’t fucking sleep with those two.”

He feels his body instantaneously relax at your warmth, arms sliding around you to bring you into his chest. “Can’t say it’s much better in here.”

“Don’t care.” He says, tucking his head into your shoulder, finally feeling himself breath. “I just want to be with you.”

You wake up next morning to the sounds of your friends, the chittering of birds, and the sunlight streaming through your tent.

“-haven’t seen Jake.”

“Maybe he went to piss in the middle of the night and got lost and eaten by a bear.” You can hear Bradley say.

Horrors dawns on you as you realize they’re looking for Jake, who obviously isn’t in his own tent as he’s clinging to you, deep in sleep and tucked into your shoulder.

“Shit.” You whisper. “Shit shit shit. Fuck, Jake, wake up.” You push his shoulder but all he does is groan, tugging you closer to him. “No, no, fuck Jake, wake up. They’re looking for you. Fuck, our friends are gonna find out. Jake-”

A shadow appears in front of the opening of your tent as they bend down to unzip it. You feel like you can’t breathe as it reveals Javy, the boy already talking.

“Hey, sorry to wake you. We can’t find Jake and I’m starting to- oh.” You grimace as a grin grows on his face. He turns, shouting behind him. “Never mind, I found him!”

A full-belly laugh sounds as Bradley peaks over Javy’s shoulder. “Oh, you’re kidding. Oh my God, fucking finally!” He shouts, laughing as he talks. Jake finally stirs at that, letting one hand go of you as he reaches behind you for one of your shoes. Once he finds it, he chucks it behind him, wildly missing.

Nat snorts. “Nice aim, Seresin.”

“Fuck off!” He groans, finally turning to face the group crowded around. “You people-” He says, pointing between Reuben and Bradley, “-kept me up all goddamn night so the least you can do is let me enjoy the morning in peace with my girl.”

“His girl.” Bob repeats, an amused smile on his face.

“Yes, Bobby. My girl. We’ve been dating since Thanksgiving and we can talk about it later but please go away.”

Javy throws his hands up in mock defeat before tugging the zipper close.

Jake tucks himself back into you, hiding his face in your shoulder.

“You’re not usually so grumpy in the mornings.” You whisper.

Jake likes slow mornings. He likes getting to spend hours in bed with you, cuddling and taking you apart over and over again before pulling you from bed and making breakfast with you in the kitchen, a full spread. He likes the slowness, the quiet, a luxury he’s not usually afforded during the season. He’s sweet and sleepy and you think that you could love him most in those morning moments.

He doesn’t respond, already falling back asleep against you. You wish you could sleep too, but you’re too awake and have never slept well on the floor of a tent, the ground lumpy beneath you.

It does mean, however, that you get to hear Bob smugly announce to the group that they all owe him money.

#chrysler fic dealership

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ohgodnotagainn · 3 months

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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!screaming ahhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“The two of you sit in silence for a moment as you both look at the paper, contemplating how to not make it shit.”

i love the dynamics of these two sooo much - it feels so reminiscent of the chemistry in set it up

“Yeah, I guess. Jake, you can not cite Wikipedia.”

he fucking woulddddd sjsjsj

“So am I!” Bradley protests. “Seresin has like… the fattest crush on you.”

i can’t explain why but this line radiates himbo energy

“You might be Jake’s tutor, and dare you even say friend, but you knew one thing to be true. You’d never be Jake’s girl.”

they are both so stupid about each other it hurts!!

“Bob cringes as you close your eyes, cheeks aflame in embarrassment. “Actually, we were jst leaving.” You say abruptly, standing up from the hay. “I’ll meet you back at the truck, okay?”

yikes yikes yikes i felt this one so deep in my stomach

“1:13am- Did you make it home okay? I never heard from you.”

SO. SEXY.

“For Thanksgiving? Sure.” You say with a shrug.”

thanksgiving with the mitchell-kazansky/bradshaw household is yet another unattainable life goal

“I’m- I’m sorry, I just wanted to know what that was like just once.”

JSJDIDODOSKSNSISOSOSNSHDSIOSKSNSBD IM CHOKING ON THE AIR SJSJDJDJDJENSKA

but this is getting good now (j.h.s.)

a/n: i have slowly but surely been working on this and I have to say, I'm pretty happy with how it turned out

summary: Almost and assumptions, until there is nothing but proof.

second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning) masterlist

folks who wanted to be tagged: @memeorydotcom @djs8891

warnings: insecurities, alcohol but everyone is of age, kissing

word count: 4k

You sigh, crossing your arms as you lean back in your chair.

“Do you really want my honest opinion?”

His eyes are a cautious hopeful as he bites his bottom lip. “…Yes?”

“Jake, this is shit.”

He groans, sliding down in his chair. “I know.”

The two of you sit in silence for a moment as you both look at the paper, contemplating how to not make it shit.

“Hey, do you uh, do you wanna-”

Jake never finishes his sentence as the door to the Center opens, Bradley popping his head in. “Hey, you done?”

You miss the sour look that settles on Jake’s face at the sight of him as your eyes flicker over the clock. “Another half an hour?”

He groans, stumbling into the room. “I’m stealing candy then.”

You shake your head, a smile growing on your face. “Go right ahead.”

“Dude, Seresin, you practically live here.” Bradley says through a mouthful of M&Ms. You roll your eyes at the words, despite the nugget of truth in them.

Over the course of the last few weeks, Jake had spent more time in the Center than not, bringing multiple drafts of any and every assignment to you. It’d gotten to the point that if any of Jake’s buddies from the football team needed him, they’d come looking for him in the Center before they checked the field.

“Shut up Bradshaw.” Jake says, eyes trained on his computer.

Bradley shrugs. “Just saying. Do you want to come over for dinner on Sunday? Mom’s asking about you.”

It takes you a minute to realize Bradley is talking to you and you glance over at him. “Yeah, I guess. Jake, you can not cite Wikipedia.”

He groans again. “It was the only thing I could find!”

“This is our mid-term Jake. This is important.”

“Are you really doing homework on a Sunday?” Nick says, coming into the kitchen, arms full of groceries.

“This thesis isn’t going to finish itself, unfortunately.” You mutter, deleting a sentence on the screen. Bradley picks up one of the articles you have laid out on the Bradshaw’s kitchen island, squinting at the title.

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know.” You groan, dropping your pen to press the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I don’t know and I think Jeff is trying to kill me.”

“You know what would make you feel better?”

“What?”

He lets out a little laugh, trying to contain his teasing grin. “Making out with your new football buddy.”

You narrow your eyes, taking the article out of his hands. “Would you cut that shit out? Jake doesn’t like me like that. I’m just his tutor.”

Bradley scoffs. “Yeah, sure, okay.”

“I’m being serious!”

“So am I!” Bradley protests. “Seresin has like… the fattest crush on you.”

“Shut up, Bradshaw.” You mutter, turning your eyes back to the computer.

Tom lets out a throaty laugh, prompting you to raise your head to catch Pete’s pained look.

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Pete?” Carole teases.

He gives a jerky shake of his head. “Nope. Nothing. I know nothing.”

The adults let out a round of laughter as Bradley pulls out the chair next to you, collecting some of your articles.

“I saw your Mom at the store with Dad.”

You pause, the cursor on the screen blinking back at you. His words are soft, unable to be heard by the adults who have since moved on in the conversation.

“Apparently, she’s got a boyfriend.” He mutters.

“Good for her.”

“When’s the last time you talked to her?”

You give a shrug of your shoulders. “Don’t remember honestly.”

He sighs. “Maybe it’s for the best. She didn’t have anything nice to say.”

“She never does.”

Jake sighs three separate times before Javy shuts the lid of his laptop, a bit aggressively.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What is up?”

“I fucking hate that guy.” Jake says with a shake of his head, looking back down at his statistics notebook.

“Who?”

“Stupid curly hair. Stupid charming smile. Stupid baseball player.”

“Who, Jacob? Who?”

“You know Bradley Bradshaw?”

Javy raises his eyebrow, unimpressed. “‘Course I know Brad, he’s one of Nat’s best friends.”

“Yeah, well he’s a fucking asshole and I hate him.”

“What the hell did he ever do to you?”

Jake can’t bring himself to say anything, scribbling angrily in the margins of his notebook. Unfortunately, his best friend knows him too well.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with your pretty tutor you seem to be spending a lot of time with lately… would it?”

He can hear the smirk in Javy’s voice, even without looking at the boy.

“Fuck off, Machado.” He says with a groan, leaning back in the booth as he crosses his arms. He waits a beat, Javy looking at him expectantly before crumbling. “Can you blame me Javy? He fucking picks her up after all her shifts, has Sunday dinners with her… I fucking hate him for getting her before I even had a chance.”

“They’re not… they’re not dating, you know that right?”

Jake snorts. “Save my pride Javy.”

“No, no I’m serious, they aren’t.” He says with a shake of his head. “She lives next door to Bradley. Nat said they went to high school together and grew up across the street from him or something. That’s why she goes over there sometimes.”

“Huh.”

He’s incapable of saying anything else, mentally reviewing all the interactions he’s seen you have with Bradshaw. They’d never been more than platonic, but he would admit that Bradshaw already pissed him off enough as it was and his jealosuy flared whenever you were around him.

“You should just ask her out on a date man, you clearly have a thing for her.” Javy says, shaking his head as he types out numbers into his calculator.

“I can’t do that.” He says with such certainty Javy has to pause and take a deep breath through his nose.

“And why not?”

“Because there’s no way in hell she’d say yes.”

Javy lets out a chuckle, looking up at him. “You’ve never had any problems before now.”

“This is different.” Jake hisses. “She’s really kind, and sweet, and smart, and I- she’s so far out of my league.”

Javy rolls his eyes. “Suit yourself Seresin. But don’t come moaning and moping to me about it. You dug this hole for yourself..” The words carry no real weight, both knopwing Javy would always listen. “What did you get for number 8?”

“Thought you’d be on a beach somewhere.”

You look up, catching sight of Jake. “Hey.”

“What’re you doing in the library over fall break? Shouldn’t you be somewhere tropical with your phone turned off?”

“I have Pete’s paper I have to finish. He gave me an extension and I’m pushing my extension deadline as it stands.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t done?”

You shake your head. “Almost though. I just have to proofread it and then submit it. Why are you here?”

“Have to return a book I used for our mid-term. Plus, I was already here for an extra weight lifting session, so thought I’d come by.”

It’s the first time you take a minute to recognize what Jake is wearing. He’s a bit sweaty, muscle tank damp.

Even then, you can help but eye the way his biceps look, imagining the way he must’ve looked while-

No.

You shake your head, clearing the thought as you meet his eye again.

“Well, it was good to see you Jake.” You say with a quick smile, looking back to your computer.

It was beyond inappropriate to think of someone you tutored like that. Absolutely not.

“Hey, uh…”

You look back up to him, watching him fiddle with his gym bag.

“Do you have any plans for the rest of break?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m technically not working but if there’s something you need me to look at, I’m ha-”

“No!” Jake protests quickly. “No, no, no. No, I was going to uh- ask if you wanted to do something.”

You blink at him. “Yeah, sure I guess I’m free. What do you have in mind?”

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I, uh, well I kinda need a pumpkin for this carving thing the team is doing. Would you, uh, want to come with me?”

“You… you want me to go to a pumpkin patch with you?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean… yeah okay.” You say a little dumbfounded.

You weren’t a fool, you knew Jake was attractive. You’d be blind not see it.

But you knew that you weren’t the girl Jake would be with. You knew it in the raised eyebrows in silent question his teams mates gave him when he said hi to you in the dining hall, knew it in the smirks girls in your History class would give you when Jake started sitting with you.

You might be Jake’s tutor, and dare you even say friend, but you knew one thing to be true.

You’d never be Jake’s girl.

The smile Jake offers you, though, is worth a weeks worth of dirty looks and snide sneers.

“Great! How does tonight sound? I found a patch about 45 minutes away, has some cute fall stuff we could do if you wanted? I’ll drive.”

“I- yeah.”

You wanted to cringe at the sound of spending hours alone in a pumpkin patch, doing fall activities that you always thought you’d do on a date with someone.

It hurts in the worst way, feeling like you’re watching a life you could’ve had, had you been someone else.

“See you at 6 then, kid.”

You shut the door of Jake’s truck behind you as you both step out on to the farm about half an hour outside of San Diego. The evening air is much cooler than it is in the city, offering a bit of a bite as you wrap your coat around you tighter.

“Where’d you find this place Jake?” You ask as you take in the cozy environment, the corn maze not too far away, the the apple bobbing and hay rides that are consumed by giggling children.

“Bradshaw’s Mom told me about it. Apparently, they’ve been coming out here since he was a kid.”

You nod as Jake rounds the truck, stopping next to you. You’re sure Carole has shown you pictures of baby Bradley, rosy cheesks as Nick stands there, both with grins so wide.

The pictures had made your heart ache in the way hearing Carole or Nick talk about Bradley’s childhood always had.

There was so much love and laughter you’d missed out on, so much you never got to have, something you longed for.

Relationships you knew you’d never have with your own parents.

Jake clearing his throat breaks you from your musing, bringing you back to the present.

“So, what should we do first?”

“I don’t think your pumpkin is big enough.” You say, a giggle laced through your words as the two of you walk (well, really, Jake is more waddling) to sit down. He heaves a sigh as she sets the rather large pumpkin on the hay.

“I want to win.” He says with a sigh, draping hismelf over the hay bales.

“What do you win?” You ask, sitting down next to him.

He opens his eyes, but doesn’t say anything, just watches you.

“Jake?” He hums, not tearing his eyes away from you. “What do you get if you win?”

He shrugs. “Nothing too crazy, I hope. Reuben is organizing the whole thing which just makes me more concerned for the losers.”

“Well, what would you want as a prize?”

He swallows, eyes gleaming. “Well, I could think of a few things.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling your cheeks go warm as you realise just how close Jake is to you.

“I-”

“Seresin!” Someone hollers, causing both you and Jake to turn.

There’s a few boys standing a bit away, all grinning. And then there’s Bob, one of Natasha’s friends you’ve gotten to know through Bradley.

Bob serves as an athletic manager for the football team, maybe against his better judgement, given the exasperated look in his eyes as the boys make their way over to where you’re sat with Jake.

“What’re you doing here, Seresin?” One of the boys asks.

“Getting a pumpkin for our carving party?” Another inquires.

Jake coughs, looking over at his pumpkin. “Yeah. Um Kenny, Chad, this is-”

“Shit, are you on a date dude?” Chad asks, eyes growing wide.

“No-” Jake amends, a bit too quickly, but Chad keeps talking.

“Sorry, sorry didn’t mean to interrupt. Don’t let us stop you from letting you hit it-”

Bob cringes as you close your eyes, cheeks aflame in embarrassment. “Actually, we were jst leaving.” You say abruptly, standing up from the hay. “I’ll meet you back at the truck, okay?”

“Wait-” Jake protests as Kenny offers up a botched apology, chuckling his way through the statement.

You reach up, rubbing at your face to make the tingly feeling go away as you blink back hot tears.

You knew this would happen.

You adjust your dress nervously as you ring the doorbell, pack of White Claws in your hand.

You didn’t even like White Claws but what is one expected to show up to a party with? Nothing?

You aren’t sure if the noise of the doorbell has been heard over the music that’s so loud you can feel it through the porch and are about to ring it again (or maybe give up and hide in your car) when the door opens.

It’s Jake.

He gives you a blinding smile, ushering you in the house. “You came!” He shouts over the noise.

You nod, eyes flitting over his costume as your hands become sweaty. “Yeah, I- I uh brought this. Wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to show up empty handed.”

He smiles again, taking the box from you. “Nice. Nice costume, by the way.” He winks, disappearing into the crowd as you stand there like a deer in headlights.

There’s a warmth spreading through your cheeks that has nothing to do with the seltzer you’d chugged in your car before ringing Jake’s doorbell.

You spot your friend Maria in a corner, refilling her drink and you begin to push your way through the crowd, each dressed up in a different costume, each wearing less clothes than the last.

You feel more overdressed than you have in your life and that’s saying something considering how short this dress really is.

You tug on her arm, catching her attention as she smiles. “Hey-”

“Give me this.” You say, taking the drink out of her hand. “I need to get drunk.”

“What-”

“Jake dressed up as Peter Pan. Maria, what the hell is in this? It smells like gasoline.” You say as you shove the drink back in her hand. She peers in it, blinking like she’s not really sure what was in it either.

“You wouldn’t have liked it anyways.” She says, before a ghost of a smile appears on her face. “So you and Jake, huh?”

“Shut up.” You mumble, cheeks going red. “I didn’t mean to. Wendy Darling was what I threw together at the last minute.”

Jake had texted you at 3:08pm, asking if you were doing anything tonight.

And you had said no, like a smitten dumbass.

So here you were, against the protest of your judgement and pile of homework, in a skimpy dress in half-assed attempt at Wendy Darling, in the hopes that Jake might notice you.

A pipe dream, really. Especially given the fact you and Jake hadn't really talked since that night at the pumpkin patch over fall break.

“Maria!” You hear Bradley’s voice over the music and you turn just in time to see Bradley squeeze his way through the group of people. “You said you were gonna come play beer pong twenty minutes ago.” She nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I know, I know. Got distracted talking to this one.” She points to you and Bradley blinks, looking down at you. It looks like this is the first time he’s realised you’re there, which given how inebriated the boy seems to be, might actually be true.

“Let’s go play!” He shouts with a nod of his head towards the backyard, and with that him and Maria are gone. You glance around, biting your lip as nerves begin to grow in your stomach. There’s no sign of Jake, or really anyone else you might know.

You feel yourself back up further and further into the corner, biting on your fingernails as your eyes flit nervously through the room, wondering what you should do.

Just as you’re wondering if you should leave (and drive away and never come back) a warm hand lands on your shoulder. You jump in surprise, looking up to see Jake towering over you.

“Hey, what’re you doing over here all alone?”

You shrug.

“Well, why don’t you come play some beer pong with me out in the back?”

You give another shrug. “I’ve never played, I doubt I’d be any good.”

He gives you a grin, leaning closer to you. “Well, then you’ll be my good luck charm.”

The sounds of Monster Mash follow you out to the backyard as Jake begins to explain the rules of beer pong to you.

“-and I know you don’t drink a whole ton, so I’ll drink if you’ll throw?”

You startle at Jake’s words. “How did you-”

“Bradshaw!” Jake shouts, clapping the brunette on the shoulders, startling him and botching his throw.

“2 v 2 after this?”

Bradley’s eyes flicker over to you, a grin growing on his face. “On one condition.”

Jake quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Loser has to kiss their partner.”

Your eyes grow wide at Bradley’s words, wanting to reach around Jake and throttle him.

Jake titls his head as Reuben sets up the table again. “You’re on.”

You splutter as Jake tugs you to the other side, a crowd starting to gather around the table. “Jake, the only pong I’ve ever played is of the iMessage kind, I don’t really know how good I’m going to be.”

Jake shrugs. “Yeah, but Bradshaw and Maria are both hammered. I’m counting on their perception being so fuzzy they can’t land a single shot.”

Despite your nerves the whole game, Jake ends up being right, with Bradley and Maria only landing three shots the whole game.

Still, you can’t help the way your stomach flutters in disappointment at the fact that you don’t get to kiss Jake, although you’d never want it to be under these circumstances, where he has to kiss you because of a bet.

Bradley shakes his head ruefully at you before, leaning over pressing a kiss quick peck to Maria’s cheek.

Jake teasingly chastises Bradley that that wasn’t part of their deal as Javy takes your place in the pairing, Natasha replacing Maria.

You get through another round, Mickey taking over Jake’s spot next before you’ve decided enough is enough, and it really had nothing at all to do with Chad’s appearance in the backyard.

“I think I’m gonna go.”

Jake’s head shoots over to you as you lean over, getting closer to his ear so he can hear you over the music.

“Yeah?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah, I’ve still got homework I need to finish. Thanks for inviting me though.”

He smiles at you softly. “‘Course, I’m glad you came, I know this isn’t exactly your scene.”

“That’s what she said.” Javy coughs into his fist as he walks past.

Jake rolls his eyes. “Ignore him, he’s an idiot. Text me when you get home, okay?”

You nod, ignoring the warmth spreading through you at his words.

(1:13am- Did you make it home okay? I never heard from you.

Your heart jumps up into your throat as you peer at the text, unable to stop the smile that’s spreading across your face.

Yeah, I did. Thanks for checking

The bubble pops up a few times before a new text appears.

Good to hear.

Get some sleep.

Goodnight.)

- You squint at the brunette over the top of your laptop, trying to process the words that just came out of his mouth.

“I am not asking Jake out.”

He groan, slumping down on the table in front of you. “Why not?” He whines, causing you to wrinkle your nose.

“Becuase? It’s Jake? He’s a super popular football player who’s not going to be interested in dating his tutor? Get off this, please. You’re starting to piss me off.”

Bradley studies you for a minute before he heaves a sigh. “Fine.” There’s quiet for a minutes as you turn back to your reading before Bradley speaks again. “Are you going to your Mom’s for Thanksgiving?”

You shake your head. “No, she’s driving up north to go see my Grandma with my brother and my sister is spending the holiday at my Dad’s.”

“So… do you wanna come over?”

“For Thanksgiving? Sure.” You say with a shrug.

Bradley smiles. “Wonderful, I’ll text Mom and tell her right now.” He says, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “You know who else is coming to Thanksgiving?”

“I’d drop it if I were you Bradshaw.”

“This is great as always Mrs. Bradshaw.” Natasha says warmly as Jake nudges you. You look up at him from where you’re cutting a piece of apple pie, Nick setting a scoop of ice cream on your plate, Jake nodding his head out to the backyard.

“Let’s go sit.” You nod, grabbing the plate as Jake leads the two of you to sit outside.

It’s still warm enough to dip your feet in the pool as the two of you sit near the edge, Jake having to roll up his jeans.

“I’ll never get over Bradshaw having a pool.”

You let out a little laugh, pulling the fork from your mouth. “You’re telling me. That was always the status symbol of wealth growing up. What?” You ask, realizing Jake hasn’t started to eat his pumpkin pie but is simply just watching you.

“You look really nice today.” You feel a blush crawl up your neck as you glance down at your outfit.

“Thanks.” You say, picking up your plate to eat, unable to meet Jake’s eye.

It’s quiet between the two of you for a little while, the silence comfortable as you eat your slices of pie.

“You know, Bradley keeps telling me the funniest thing.” You say as you finish the last of the pie, setting the plate back down on the ground. Carole really did make a killer apple pie, a wonderful combination of apples and cinnamon, the pastry dough always elevating the dessert.

“What?”

“He keeps telling me… God, it’s so silly.” You say, shaking your head. “He keeps telling me you have a crush on me.”

Jake watches you for a second, and you realise telling Jake this may have been a bad idea, before Jake leans over you, pressing his lips to yours.

It takes a minute for your brain to even realising he’s kissing you, but it’s a minute too long as Jake pulls back, eyes wide.

“I’m- I’m sorry, I just wanted to know what that was like just once.”

You don’t even realize what you’re doing until your doing it, leaning over and returning Jake’s kiss. Jake’s hands are already on your waist to steady you as you cup his cheek, getting to savor the way he tastes of pumpkin pie and the bourbon he had earlier.

Jake cups your cheek as he pulls away, thumb gently rubbing over your cheekbone as he watches you. He’s looking at you in such a way that is making you blush, wanting to duck your head and hide from his gaze.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He whispers.

You swallow, already missing the taste of his lips. “Then why are we waiting any longer?”

#chrysler fic dealership

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ohgodnotagainn · 3 months

Text

doing a little re-read of this story and i fell in love all over again🥹

“Pretty good. Quiet. How was your trip to Italy with Tom?”

icemav for the win!!

“You had taken enough of Pete’s classes to know that retired decorated Naval aviator or not, Admiral husband or not, Pete welcomed critical and open discussion of the United States military’s global engagement. Encouraged it, even.”

this is 10000% canon to me and nobody can take that away from me

“You can't help the grin spreading across your face, even as Jake coughs words that sound oddly like teacher’s pet into his fist.”

kicking my feet and giggling so hard

“Could we start by just looking at his feedback and talking about it? I admittedly didn’t understand some of it.”

RHIS IS SO SEXY TO ME SHSJSJSJSSJ like yes baby girl it’s okay to admit that you’re wrong

changes (j.h.s.)

a/n: this is the first part of my college!AU. not much happens yet, but things are only just beginning with these two! let me know you're thoughts so far!

part of second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)

folks who wanted to be tagged: @memeorydotcom @djs8891

warnings: college!AU, javynat/icemav, swearing

word count: 2.7k

You slip into the classroom, smiling at Pete as he logs in to the computer. “Hey Pete.”

He glances up at you from the screen, returning your smile as you saddle up into the first row of seats in the lecture hall. “Hey kid, I haven’t seen you in a few weeks. How was the last bit of your summer?”

You shrug, tugging your bag off into the chair next to you. “Pretty good. Quiet. How was your trip to Italy with Tom?”

“Pretty good. Nice to get away from the work and hustle-bustle of his job. Definitely don’t miss the paperwork, that’s for sure.” You both laugh lightly, as the door to the classroom open again, a few boys you recognize from the football team filtering in. “I was surprised to see you on my roster for this class. Didn’t you already fulfill the requirements for this?”

You shrug, pulling your laptop out as you finally sit down. “Yeah, but I need a couple more extra credits to stay a full-time student to keep my scholarship and you know I love taking your classes as it is. Might be one of my last chances to do so.”

He tilts his head in acknowledgement as the door opens again. “Remind me after class that I wanted to talk to you about what you’re planning for post-grad.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Why?”

He huffs out a laugh, collecting his papers. “I might have something for you.” The room has slowly begun to fill up as the two of you have chatted, meaning class is just about ready to start. Pete hangs by the front podium, letting everyone get settled.

Your eyes glance over your computer screen at the non-existent Canvas page, meaning Pete has yet to publish it. The papers in his hands are what you suspect are copies of the syllabus he probably finished over breakfast with Tom this morning. Typical.

“...dude, this is going to be such an easy credit, I’m telling you.” One of the men behind you says. “He’s just Bradshaw’s quirky godfather. You just gotta say something nice about the Navy and he’ll give you an A.”

You snort, shaking your head at Bradley feeding his athlete friends with lies about his godfather’s class. You had taken enough of Pete’s classes to know that retired decorated Naval aviator or not, Admiral husband or not, Pete welcomed critical and open discussion of the United States military’s global engagement. Encouraged it, even.

One of the men behind you sighs and you hear him lean back in his chair. “All I need is an easy A. Gonna skate through this class no problem.”

“Shit, I forgot my pen. Jake, do you have one?”

“Javy, I don’t even have a notebook. What makes you think I have a pen?”

“Reuben?”

“Sorry Javy, you’re straight shit outta luck. I only have one for myself.”

The man, Javy, groans. “Fuck me.”

“Pretty sure Natasha did just that last night based on the- ow.”

“Hey, psst. You, girl in the front.” You startle, turning around to face the boys. “You got a pen for my friend Javy here?” Reuben asks.

You nod, digging through your bag for your pencil case. “Pencil or pen?”

“Whatever you got’s fine, sugar. Right Javy?” The blond says, nudging his friend. You roll your eyes to yourself, unimpressed.

“Here.” You say, leaning up to hand the black pen to Javy.

“Thanks, I’ll give it back to you at the end of class.” Javy says with a warm smile as he takes it from you.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got plenty.” You say with a wave of your hand, already turning back around. Pete clear shis throat just as you do, catching the attention of the students in the room. He offers them a warm smile.

“Well, let’s get started shall we? I’m Pete. You can call me Pete or Mr. Mitchell, whatever suits you. I’m a retired Naval aviator, served for nearly twenty years. I’m an adjunct here at San Diego State, have been for about the last six or seven years. I teach international relations and military history classes mostly. If you’re here, you should be here for History 2060, Global Military Conflicts Post-1945. If that doesn’t sound correct, you’re most likely in the wrong classroom. Don’t blame you, I got lost this morning on my way in from the parking lot.” That earns Mav a laugh from the classroom as you shake your head. He’s told the same joke on the first day of every class you’ve ever had with him. “I’m going to go around and pass out the syllabus. We can read through it and discuss it. The biggest takeaway is that, unlike some of the other History courses on this campus, I care less about your memorization of dates and people on a test. I want you to take something meaningful away from this class and that’s going to come from the papers you write, the readings you do, and the discussions you’ll have in this class. Let’s begin.”

“Easy A, here we come.” Jake mutters behind you as the stack of syllabus gets plopped in front of you.

He’s in for a rude awkaening, you think to yourself as you take a syllabus, passing it back to the boys.

“Don’t forget. Your first response paper is due tonight at midnight. I want well-thought out papers, with clear arguments and evidence. Feel free to be critical of the text, but you must respond to it and the more you can incorporate the discussion we had in here over the past few classes, the better. Shows me you’re listening and engaged.” Pete calls out as the class packs up.

Two weeks into the semester and you had all just finished reading Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried. Pete had said he’d chosen the book so you could all understand how these global conflicts could be captured in a fictional manner, asking you to focus on how it communicated a very real history of the event. The book had been supplemented by lectures and class discussion and you felt yourself falling in love with the class everytime you showed up.

“Have you started that paper?” Reuben asks, sliding his bag over his shoulder.

Jake snorts. “Hell no. It’s only what, three pages? I’m gonna start writing it after practice tonight.”

“Javy?”

“Finished it last night.”

“Fucking nerd.” Jake says as Pete calls out your name, motioning you up to the front of the room. It catches the boys attention as you walk around the front row, meeting Pete halfway. The boys are lingering and watching, something you’re painfully aware of.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, but are you thinking about grad school?”

You nod. “Yeah, I am, but I think I’m going to take a year off first.”

“Have you thought about SDSU’s program at all?”

You sigh, crossing your arms. “Kind of-”

“-Who willingly puts themselves through more school?”

You turn catching both Reuben and Javy nudging Jake. You sigh, uncrossing your arms, looking to the ground.

“We can talk more about this at a later date.” Pete says. “I’ll let you go, I know you have to get to work. Good job on the paper, by the way.”

“You read it already?”

He nods, walking back to the table at the front fo the room. “Thought I’d get a head start on grading the ones that got turned in early last night. You never fail to impress me, kid.”

You can't help the grin spreading across your face, even as Jake coughs words that sound oddly like teacher’s pet into his fist.

“Thanks Pete. See you on Friday.”

Jake swallows, staring the 12 out of 100 blinking back at him on the screen.

“Did you get your grade back for that response paper we wrote last week?” He hears himself, asking.

“Yeah, I got an 86. Why?”

“Dude, Pete graded those response papers harder than I thought he would. I scraped by with a 73.” Reuben says, sliding in the booth next to him. “How’d you do Jake?”

He shakes his head, unable to say anything as he stares at the screen.

Reuben leans over his shoulder, looking at the screen before letting out a low whistle. “Shit Jake.”

“What? What’d he get?” Javy asks, craning to see the screen. Jake turns the laptop to Javy, earning him a wince.

“Yikes dude.”

“What am I gonna do?” He mumbles.

He pauses, waving his friends on as you chat with Pete. He fiddles with his phone, trying not to look nervous as he hears you and Pete discuss research you’d done from this summer.

“...I really think you should try to get that published, kid.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know, do you think it could?”

“Oh absolutely. Here, why don’t you hang on for a second and let me talk to Jake and we can discuss it more?”

“Oh yeah, sorry.” You give him a nervous smile, stepping a little ways away to give them some privacy.

“What’s up Jake?”

He sighs. “Sir, I was wondering if you could maybe give me some insight to the grade I got on my paper.”

Pete frowns. “Did you not read the feedback I left on Canvas? I’m never sure if my comments save properly.”

“No, I did. I guess- I guess I’m just kind of confused as to why I got that grade.”

“Well, you lacked a clear argument and the paper was riddled with typos. The assignment was only three pages and you turned in a page and a half. You only used one quote, from the first chapter of the book, telling me you didn’t read any further. You didn’t incorporate any class discussion and you’ve only been here once since the semester started. Now, I know I said I didn’t have an attendance policy but if you aren’t here, you’re not participating in the group discussion and that’s a huge chunk of your grade, Jake.”

“Is there any way I could re-submit the paper for a higher grade? I’m on the football team and we have to maintain a 2.8 to stay. It’s my last season, Mr. Mitchell, and I’d really like to keep my starting position.”

Pete sighs. “Tell you what. I’ll let you re-submit the paper for a higher grade if you go to the Writing Center and work with one of their consultants on the feedback I left for you.”

“Sir-”

“Those are my conditions, Jake. For any one, not just you. I want to see that you’re actually working on improving.”

“Well, isn’t it just that… isn’t that place for all the bad writers?”

Pete’s frown deepens. “There’s no shame in asking for help if you need it, Jake. It’s important to me that you know that.”

Jake just shrugs.

“You know, she comes as a very highly rated consultant from some of your athlete friends.” Pete says with a nod of his head over to you. You’re looking at your phone, clearly trying to look busy.

“Yeah, yeah, I think Garcia worked with her last spring.”

Mickey Garcia was Reuben’s room mate, another athlete but on the baseball team. He’d raved about this girl he’d worked with at the Writing Center last spring, helping him get a 93 on a notoriously difficult final for an International Relations class.

“She’s one of the best students I’ve seen in my time at San Diego State. You don’t have to work with her, but it might be nice to have a familiar face and someone who knows the class material. If you do decide to re-submit the paper, just ask the tutor to let me know you were there, yeah? You’ve got a week to get the new one back to me.”

Jake pokes his head through the door, eyeing the room nervously. “This the Writing Center?” Your co-worker Mia pops her head up from the computer at the front desk, nodding.

“Yes, it is! How can I help you?”

Jake looks around nervously. “I have an appointment.”

“Okay…” Mia trails off. “Do you remember with who?”

You shut the room to the storage closet. “Hi Jake.” You say warmly, lugging the Costco-sized bag of candy out to the front table. “I’m just finish refilling the candy bowls if you wanna sit down at one of those tables over there?”

He nods, walking around the front desk to one of the tables, pulling his laptop out of his bag.

“Isn’t that Jake Seresin?” Mia whispers, eyes wide. “From the football team?”

You shrug. “I think so. He’s in one of my classes.”

She nods. “Want me to finish doing that?”

You sigh, handing her the bag. “That’d be great. Are you still leaving early tonight?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind locking up the Center.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem!”

You turn back to Jake, whose knee is bouncing as he takes in the space.

He’s nervous, you realize, a stark contrast from the cocky boy you’d known in class.

You grab your laptop, sitting down across from Jake. “Alright Jake, do you just wanna share the document with me so we can get started?”

He wipes his hands on his basketball shorts, nodding as he opens the computer screen before pausing.

“Can I ask how you did on the response paper for class?”

You duck your head, biting your lip. “It wasn’t my best one.”

“What’d did you get?”

“A 94. You?”

Jake swallows, eyes flitting around the Center.

“12.” He whispers.

Your eyes grow wide. “Wait, shit, are you serious?”

Jake nods. “‘S kinda why I’m here. Pete said if I came here, I could re-submit the paper for a higher grade.”

You nod. “Well, what do you want to focus on then?”

Jake shrugs.

“Well, what would be most helpful for you?”

“Could we start by just looking at his feedback and talking about it? I admittedly didn’t understand some of it.”

“Yeah! Yeah, of course.”

The next hour flies by as you work through Jake’s paper, identifying places for him to expand and ways he could utilize evidence. You both worked through Pete’s feedback as you worked to build a better argument based off of it.

Finally, you sit back and sigh. “Well, we’re just at about time. You got any last questions for me?”

Jake shakes his head, shutting his laptop. “Thanks for all your help on this.”

“Yeah, of course. It’s my job.”

“This… this all seems to come so naturally to you.”

You shrug, closing your own laptop. “Yeah, yeah, I mean I’m a senior so I’ve had a lot of practice. It’s a lot harder when you’re first starting out.”

“I couldn’t imagine just writing all the time.”

You give Jake a bashful smile. “I’m writing a 30 page paper for my senior capstone.”

Jake cringes at your words. “I couldn’t do that.” He says, rubbing his forehead.

“Hey, you’re already improving. It just takes time to learn how to write in a style like this.”

“I much prefer my Business classes. At least there, it’s a cake-walk to scrap by with a B average.”

“Well, you’re already doing better than me there. I failed Math in high school.”

Jake chuckles, packing up his things. “Hey, uh, Pete told me I needed you guys to tell him I came here?”

You nod. “Yeah, we just send them an email with your appointment form, discussing what we did in the appointment.”

Jake sighs, shoulders slumping. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Feel free to make another appointment if you have any more questions.”

Jake gives an aborted nod, slipping his backpack over shoulder and standing up. “Thanks again.”

He blinks, looking at the grade in Canvas.

70/100

Javy leans over his shoulder at his phone as their coach talks. “Is that the revised grade?” He whispers, Jake nods, locking the phone and slipping it back into his pocket, trying not to think about the comment Pete had left just below the grade.

There was significant improvement here Jake. Please see my comments in the document and on the rubric for further feedback. I highly encourage you to continue visiting the Writing Center throughout the semester. Let me know if you have any questions or concerns.

“How you do that, Jakey?” Javy whispers.

He shrugs as Coach Simpson dismisses them. “Does it matter?”

Javy lets out an incredulous chuckle. “I mean, if you went from a 12 to a 70, I’d kinda think you sucked Mitchell’s dick or something.”

Jake middle finger doesn’t stop Javy’s chortle as he leaves the locker room.

#chrysler fic dealership #re-read

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ohgodnotagainn · 3 months

Text

this was such a cute little mini series, i loved it!!

“Don’t mention it. We hate that guy.” made me laugh out loud, all my homies hate david!

Line of Sight [Masterlist]

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: You may just have to address your assumption that Jake Seresin doesn't care for you at all, because surely a man who disliked you wouldn't go out of his way to have your back when you need him the most?

Warnings: language, creepy club dudes, hangman being a little cold but actually he’s just shyyyyyy

Notes: aka Jakey bad at make words good to lady he crush on

thank you for reading <3

COMPLETE

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

#jake hangman seresin x reader

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ohgodnotagainn · 3 months

Text

“A confession on his couch in the midst of rewatching Veep, ‘Relax, cow eyes’ the soundtrack to everything falling into place.”

- i love, love, love that you wrote the backstory into this!! it gave me so much insight into their dynamics and pulled me right in!! this line was so soothing and comforting to me, so domestic i want to cry. obsessed with this!!

- start of a silver fox

summary - back from deployment, you notice a change in your boyfriend's appearance. pairing - jake seresin x (fem!)reader word count - 1.4k rating - no smut, but 18+ anyways, mdni! content warnings & tags - age gap (reader is in her early twenties, jake is in his early thirties) / fwb to lovers / no use of (y/n) / vague allusions to sex / mentions of nudes / mentions of masturbation / no actual smut / mentions of death (sorta) / lmk if i missed anything! a/n: saw these recent photos of glen ➙ became possessed ➙ wrote this. reblogs, comments, and likes super appreciated!

Jake is back after three long months on deployment, a fourth of your relationship — not counting the first couple months when you were ‘just hooking up’. This is your first welcome back. Having texted extensively with Nat’s girlfriend, Sasha, you were given a pretty good lay of the land by her, informed of what to expect.

Homecoming day has arrived, and excitement has consumed your entire body, making your limbs buzz.

Awaiting his arrival on the pier, your foot tapping out a nervous rhythm, you stand in the back, allowing spouses and children to be the first in line. You’re just the girlfriend, the one almost a decade younger than him, the one you know his friends assumed wouldn't be around long. You assumed you wouldn't be around long. Jake is a charmer, and when he set his sights on you, you assumed it would be a one-night stand, a fling at most.

But one night turned into two and then three, which turned into nearly three months of falling asleep and waking up next to him. Most days you’d get a text the second he was done with training, the buzz of your phone always kicking up your heartbeat.

At first, you’d just meet him at The Hard Deck for drinks, then dinner at sit-down restaurants — the preambles to him fucking the shit out of you growing longer and decidedly less casual. Post-coital, he’d sling an arm around your waist in an attempt to keep you from slipping out, waking up with that same soothing weight on you. Eventually, he casually mentioned that you could keep some of your stuff at his place — for convenience, he said. He tried slipping the suggestion under the radar, pre-coffee on a Saturday morning. Bleary-eyed and half-asleep, you barely processed his words, absent-mindedly humming in response.

Then you saw the half-cleared-out drawer — which you later learned was a measure in order not to spook you. Like a full drawer would make you wise to his intentions, like he was trying to acclimate you to the idea of commitment, to a relationship with him.

You remember the feeling of placing spare clothes in that drawer; a spare bra and sweatshirt. Jake watching you from the doorway, trying to not act too pleased in response.

You liked him, his company and his laugh and his baffling love of Taylor Swift that he blamed on his nieces. The man under the bravado wormed his way into your brain.

Though, you could appreciate how he looked puffed-chest and cocksure. Near equally competitive as you are. The first game night you spent with his friends meant you both were banned from ever being on the same team again. Pictionary, trivia, One-Night Ultimate Werewolf — you mopped the floor with them. The rule wasn't entirely the case of sore losers, you can acknowledge the fact that you two were immediately, freakishly in sync. Ultimate Werewolf may have ended in tears of betrayal being shed.

And that's how things progressed for a while, falling deeper while avoiding acknowledging the fact that you were in a relationship. Afraid to say the words and make things complicated. Near everyone in both your and his life were trying to push you both to just trust it. Have a little faith in one another.

One minute you were his girlfriend in all but name, and then you were just his girlfriend. A confession on his couch in the midst of rewatching Veep, ‘Relax, cow eyes’ the soundtrack to everything falling into place.

────────────────────────

Once officers start filtering off the ship, your mind blanks in anxiety. Around you, tears are shed, and poster board is ditched in favor of tight hugs. Laughter and children squealing background noise. You scan the crowd, the sun beating down on you, searching for the handsome shape of Jake Seresin. People come and go, giving you a better view of the naval officers, till you finally spot yours moving towards you. He weaves through the throng with ease, standing before you in a matter of seconds.

A smile stretches your face, eyes squinting from both happiness and the sun. You scan him, categorizing any minute change. Gray. A small streak above his right ear. Your nerve endings light up like a Christmas tree, the sensation doubling at the slight hint of age. Reaching out, your fingers run across his scalp, nails tracing back, playing with the hair that has decided in his relatively brief absence to go gray.

He doesn't shy from your touch, his lashes fluttering at the sensation, an intimate moment playing out in public. Though no one is probably taking notice, wrapped up in their own reunion. He does seem to be a hint abashed at your attention.

He breaks the quiet, “Hey, sweetheart.”

The sound of his voice, clear and unobstructed by distance, rushes through you. Fuck. You're trying to suppress the blatant arousal coursing through your system, keep it out of your voice. Words startled, voice pitched, “You've gone gray.”

Despite your age gap, it’s never been your thing, your Tinder age range has only ever been set 3 years older — but seeing Jake in the flesh, and with a few more grays, is making you muster every ounce of self-control so you don't fuck him in the parking lot, ride him in the backseat of his truck. He probably wouldn't enjoy getting dishonorably discharged.

He hefts his duffle over his shoulder, free hand taking your own to lead you to the car — his truck that he handed the keys over to, something in his gaze when he told you to not let the battery die. Maybe a way for him to feel connected to you, maybe a reassurance that you'd be around when he got back. Your board is still in the bed, having taken up surfing in the mornings since your time was no longer being occupied by Jake slowly fucking you into the mattress.

“I already had grays, I'm just… grayer now.” His pace is quick. It's clear that he's itching to get home. Your boots stamp on the pavement as you practically skip behind him, content with his hand in yours. He looks at you out of the side of his eye, eyebrow raised, “And I wonder why that is.”

“That suspiciously sounds like an accusation.”

“Those photos…” He stops at the teal-striped Ford, throwing his duffle next to your surfboard. Crowding you against the side of it., his voice dropping, “I was opening my mail in the mess, ‘bout gave me a heart attack.”

You’d sent them on a whim — a well-researched whim, you didn't need some random desk jockey finding out your taste in lingerie. But you had missed Jake and wanted him to miss you in return. And what better way to make the heart grow fonder than with scantily clad pictures of your body?

“Well? Did you like them?” You know he liked them, it was a whole production to take them, but even if it wasn't — he’s a man, and you were in lingerie. You looked hot, are hot, present tense. An indisputable fact. And he’s not reserved with telling you and showing you that, but you can't pass up a moment to hear it voiced to you, not after how long he’s been gone.

“I think I have carpal tunnel.”

You snort out a laugh as he exaggeratedly shakes out his hand, clenching and unclenching his fist for your amusement. Eyes skating along your features, he huffs, “Add that to the long list of ailments you've inflicted.”

Letting your fingers lightly trace down his biceps, you press your body even closer to his, perhaps a touch too scandalous for a parking lot in broad daylight. A coy reply rolls off your tongue, “I keep you young.”

“You're going to send me to an early grave.”

Rising to your toes, you brush your lips against his, holding back from full contact. You feel his breath stall in his chest, desperate for it. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing, his face awash in anticipation. He’s beautiful.

Your palm stroking the side of his head, you brush the hair away from his face, pinky skimming the top of his ear. You single out the silver strands between your fingers, silky soft as ever. He’s real and yours — home.

“Ditto. Might as well invest in matching plots, right?”

Broad shoulders shaking with laughter, he brushes his nose against yours. Palms cupping the side of your face, thumbs sweeping across your cheeks, he stops waiting. A long-awaited kiss pressed to your lips, neither one of you able to keep the smiles off your faces.

e/n: thank you for reading!

#glad to see that the grey hairs got us all #jake seresin x reader

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