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#Jake Seresin
vivwritesfics · 2 days
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Slow Ride
Jake saves her from a creep at the bar. She repays him in the best way she can think and rides him to his favourite song
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, hand job, fingering, riding, car sex, creampie
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There was nobody she hated more than Jake Seresin. Ever since he'd come back to North Island, she hated him. But she hated him because she couldn't hate him.
Working behind the bar in The Hard Deck, she met her share of navy pilots. They were flirts, yes, but they were harmless flirts. But they knew what would happen if they push things, knew the consequences of disrespecting her.
Jake Seresin knew, too. He approached the bar with his usual charming smile and ordered a round of beers. She didn't say much as she got him the round of drinks. But still, even once he had them, Jake stayed to flirt with her.
She didn't flirt back, didn't want him to get the wrong idea. It had happened before, and the guy had flirted with her. He'd taken it too far and had gotten himself kicked out (well, Jake had been the one to throw him out).
There was one thing she liked about Jake, though. The fact that he protected her from the few creeps that had coming into The Hard Deck. He always had an eye on her, even when he was playing pool, making sure that nobody ever made her feel uncomfortable.
That was the thing. Although she hated Jake, he looked out for her. There was a time she was considering quitting her job at The Hard Deck. She loved her job, loved working for penny and loved how polite most of the aviators were. But there were a few guys that made things unbearable.
Until her knight in shining armour stepped in.
Jake didn't always have to step in and save her, but she loved it every time he did.
Like tonight. Cory was a regular, and a regular creep. He'd been kicked out more times than she could count, but he always found his way back in. Always slipped through the cracks and made it to the bar.
Thank God Jake saw him before she did. Even as Cory sat at the bar and whistled for her, Jake was there. He stood beside Cory and cleared his throat. "Can I help you?" He asked, trying to stay between Cory and herself.
Cory rolled his eyes and looked away from Jake. He turned his attention to her, wearing a smile that made her sick to her stomach. "Hey, pretty darlin'," he said, reaching across the bar towards her.
But Jake caught his hand before he could get it any closer. "You're not allowed in here, Cory," Jake said with a sneer as he pushed Cory away. "Get out before I make you get out."
Cory let out a laugh and shook Jake off. "Piss off, Bagman," he said, using the nickname that Jake normally didn't mind.
But Cory hadn't earned the right to use it. And it infuriated him. "Say that again," he challenged.
"Jake," she said from behind the bar, trying to grab his attention. As much as she liked Jake being there, protecting her, she didn't want it to get out of hand.
But Cory ignored Jake. He turned his attention to the poor woman behind the bar. "C'mon, pretty darlin'," he said as he leaned forward. "Let's say we get out of here after this."
The moment his hand reached out and touched the bottom of her skirt, Jake had him out of his seat, holding him up by his collar as he pressed him against the wall. "Fucking try it," he pretty much growled, spit flying into Cory's face.
Everybody in the bar had stopped what they were doing to watch. They watched as Jake dropped him, following Cory out of the bar. He made sure he was gone, too scared to come back before he returned to the bar.
"Sorry about that, sweets," said Jake as he sat on the bar stool and looked at her.
She placed a drink in front of him, one he hadn't ordered. "On the house," she said. "For being my hero."
Jake took it gratefully. He didn't return to the squad, instead staying at the bar with her until she closed up. Even then, even once she'd kicked everybody out, Jake stayed with her. He stayed with her as she cleaned and closed the bar and waited while she locked the doors.
But still, he didn't want to leave her. So, Jake walked her to her car. It wasn't creepy, no. It was comforting.
"I still feel like I should pay you back somehow," she said as she leaned against her car.
Jake let his typical charming smile come onto his face. "That beer was thanks enough, sweets."
Before she knew it, she was opening the back door to her car and gesturing for him to climb in. Jakes heart thundered in his chest as he did just that. He climbed in and scootched over to the furthest seat, giving her space to climb in beside him.
She did just that. Placing her back into the front seat, she climbed in beside Jake. "I wanted to give you a proper thank you," she said almost sheepishly as she leaned forward and grabbed a hold of her phone.
The music that sounded from the phone was a song Jake immediately recognised. She dropped her phone on the dash and climbed into the back. But she didn't sit beside him. No, she settled onto his lap, her arms around his neck.
"Fuck," Jake hissed as he looked at her. There was no telling how much he'd wanted this. "Are we gonna fuck to Slow Ride?"
She played with the hair at the back of his neck as she ground her hips against his own. "I dunno, Hangman. Do you want me to ride you to Slow Ride?"
He swallowed thickly and nodded his head. That was all she needed to hear. Her lips hesitantly attached to his own and his hands settled on her hips. Jake let her take control. He let her set the pace, let her decide how the kiss was going. Before too long she was kissing down his neck and undressing him in the back seat of her car.
Jake couldn't believe it. Here he was, fucking her in his car. He let out a hiss at the feeling of teeth against his neck.
Suddenly, she removed her hands from around his neck and reached between them. She popped the button on his jeans and immediate freed his cock.
Fuck, he was big. But, compared to the rest of him it was unsurprising. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft as she returned her lips to his.
The way Jake was gripping her hips, it was bruising. He reached under her skirt, touching her ass. Squeezing and groping, listening to her little whines and moans as she jacked him off.
The moment her thumb swiped over his tip, Jake ripped the material of the tights covering her ass. He hadn't meant to, just want to pull them down. But he couldn't help it. It was just so fucking good.
As soon as her tights were ripped, it was easy enough to slip his fingers beneath her panties. She was so goddamn wet. And those noises! They were music to Jakes ears.
"Goddamn, sweets," he grunted. The moment he touched her folds, her movements stopped. "So fucking wet f' me." His finger touched her clit and her body fell against his own. "Gonna ride me to Slow Ride?"
Her whines were desperate as she frantically lined his cock up with her entrance. She sank down onto him, eyes rolling back. "Holy Fuck," he grunted.
"Jake," she mewed desperate, her body against his own. He was so goddamn big, she didn't know how she was taking all of him. "Wanna move."
Jake immediately understood. She wanted to ride him, but she couldn’t move. He gripped her hips once again and began moving her, bouncing her on his cock.
It wasn't a slow ride. Not in the slightest. Her cunt just felt too good squeezing him, he couldn't slow down.
When Jake got her moving at her own rhythm, he pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her chest. Jake kissed her. He kissed down her chest until he got to what wasn't being covered by her bra.
As Jake got closer and closer, he wrapped his arms around her moved her body, her body limp against his. Her cries and whines were continuous, unbroken against the skin on his shoulder. She clenched around him, eyes shut as she came. But she was so out of it, so drunk on his cock, she hardly noticed.
"That's it, sweets," Jake mumbled as he kissed the side of her head. "I'm almost there."
And, seconds later Jake was cumming, his climax taking over him as he gripped her tight. "Fuck, fuck," he grunted, stilling her.
But he didnt pull out of her. He kept his arms around him as she laid against his chest, kissing the sweaty skin there. "That was incredible," she whispered as her body began to shake and shiver.
"We'll have to do that again, uh, sweets? He asked abd she nodded in agreement.
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seresinhangmanjake · 2 days
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Stolen Angel - Part 5
Demon!Jake Seresin x reader
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Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.
Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. Eventual smut and happy stuff. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.
Words: 3550
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
JAKE POV
Jake sighs at the knock on his door and sits up in his bed. It’s too early. Last night was long, watching you struggle to not verbally defy his every attempt to help you. But your wing was inflamed, which would soon lead to your back becoming inflamed, and he knows you’re intelligent but is it so hard to understand that not taking care of the injury could mean infection? Being here does not make you immune to such ailments and yet you puffed and huffed and barely held your tongue at his cleaning the area and applying a bandage with ointment. And just when you’d had a conversation with him about you being good. Terribly disappointing. You better shape up if you intend to get what you want. 
“What, Javy?” Jake calls at the second knock. 
Javy enters Jake’s room and leans against the door after closing it behind him. “So? You taking her?” he asks. 
“Possibly,” Jake says, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “There are stipulations, but she’s determined. She’ll do whatever she has to to get there.”
Javy raises a brow. “Does that explain her cozying up to you yesterday?”
A slight smirk sneaks onto Jake’s face. ‘Cozying up’ is definitely one way to describe what you were doing the day before, although your actions were nowhere close to how affectionate you’re capable of being. There is plenty of passion in that body of yours that a few soft touches don’t do justice, but for now Jake will take what he can get. 
“It does,” Jake confirms with a nod. “She’s my clever little angel, but manipulative attempt or not, it’s not like I’m going to push her away.”
“Oh no, of course not,” Javy snorts. “You? Do the respectful thing?” With a shake of his head, he lets out a low whistle to which Jake rolls his eyes. The sarcasm in his friend’s tone is wildly unappreciated.
“Do you honestly expect any better of me?”
“Not these days,” Javy says, “but is it so horrible of me to want you to see the error of your decisions and change? When I offered you a life here you were a different man.”
A different man. A weaker man. A man who had nothing left to live for. 
Losing everything he once cared about—that is what changed him, but who’s to say the man he is today isn’t who he was always meant to be? Maybe it burrowed inside of him long ago and was waiting for the encouragement to expose itself. And what is so wrong about that? That doesn't make him a bad man. 
He was a man who was missing the drive and purpose he needed. But then—despite being under the cruelest of circumstances—he found it. And when you find purpose you have to take hold of it and claim it any way you can before it’s ripped away from you. If Javy still can’t understand that then it must be the type of thing you have to live for yourself in order to grasp how it feels.
Jake’s eyes contain a challenge against his friend’s stare as he leans forward to brace his elbows on his knees and clasp his hands. “You try having Fate fuck you over, and then we’ll see the kind of man you become,” he says.
Javy sighs and crosses his arms. “I’m not denying the poor timing of your first meeting, but you coped with that for years, and now that you’ve snapped–”
“I haven’t snapped,” Jake snaps.
“Yes, you have. She was moving up in her life, finding some happiness, trying to make some friends at a new job, and then you took her,” Javy tells him, but not to chastise. That lecture was one Jake received weeks ago and Javy knows another won’t alter what has been done. “And you can’t keep her in The Tower forever. When this catches up with you—because it will—what do you intend to do?”
“She will love me by then.”
“You’re hoping she will love you by then,” Javy counters, “And you’re hoping when questioned, she’ll lie for you.”
Jake groans and shoots to his feet, running a hand through his hair. Gesturing in the general direction of your room, he says, “If she loves me then she’ll be lying for both of us because she’ll know it’s the only way we can be together.”
“And if she doesn't?”
“I'm not entertaining ‘if she doesn't’,” Jake says harshly. “She will. I’ll get rid of that stubbornness and she’ll remember why she wanted me in the first place.”
Javy pushes up from his leaned position, nearing the blond. “She wanted you because the two of you had some kind of carnal pull to one another, but–”
“It’s more than that,” Jake stops him. “We share more than that. She just refuses to see it.”
But you will. You’ll come to your senses. He knows that it’s more than sex, but it’s because of that sex that he believes something in you felt him over the years even though you did not see him. That’s why it was so easy to come together that night. You don’t sleep with just anyone. You’re picky and careful, as you should be, but you showed no reservations when giving yourself to him. You weren’t timid when he stripped you of your clothes; you were too focused on ripping him out of his. You weren’t embarrassed by your sweet moans and pretty cries. You were comfortable around him, and you will be again. 
When Jake realizes Javy hasn’t spoken, he shoves his thoughts aside and pays closer attention to the look directed his way. It’s a medley of emotions. Skepticism and concern. Cautious hope and pity and acceptance. Acceptance of what, it’s hard to determine. Impending doom, likely, since Javy’s so sure of its inevitability.
Finally, Javy blinks. His lips stretch into a thin line, then he says, “Be smart about this, Jake.” 
And Jake replies, “I’m always smart.”
“You're not,” Javy has no shame in telling him. “That's the problem.”
READER POV
“You can’t speak to anyone from your past, you can’t be seen by anyone from your past, you have to stay in my sight at all times, and you can’t do anything that would jeopardize our ability to return here on time,” Jake says. “You break any of these rules and I drag you back before midnight.”
Raising a brow, you cross your arms over your chest. “You think I can’t manage that? I’ve complied with everything you’ve asked of me for two whole weeks.” 
Everything down to accepting his cupping of your cheek one night as he nearly kissed you. He hadn’t though, and his reasons for pulling back instead of taking what he wanted as he’s so used to doing robbed you of four hours of sleep.
“I wouldn’t put it past you to go rogue,” he says. “But you can’t. There are actual consequences I can’t protect you from.”
Yes, you know. He has mentioned that often. “Consequences, Angel. There are consequences to not following the rules.” For the last couple of weeks, it has felt like hours upon hours of the same droning on, the same lesson as if your short-term memory is flawed. But then he’d thrown in “It's your first time, and there’s a chance you’ll forget everything I’ve told you the minute you touch foot down there. You’ll be tempted to break them.” 
That was what finally struck a cord of concern.
Of course, it had crossed your mind to break them, even though you’d known of Jake’s fate when he had done the same, but if he had to warn you of the temptation, you wondered how tempting it would really be. Would you be spending your precious, limited time there miserable because of the invisible chains on your wrists and ankles and the gag in your mouth as you try to resist the desperation to bond with the life you left behind?
“How tempted?” you had asked. 
You were taken aback by one look from him. A harshness was in the green, but you are no fool, and you could see exactly what it was concealing. A memory—pain. 
“Incredibly,” he’d told you. “At least, I was. And I paid for it.”
You hadn’t responded, but you kept his words in the back of your mind, ultimately deciding to trust in your strength. It was either that or risk never seeing home again, and that wasn't, and isn’t, an option for you. 
“I’m not going to do anything, Jake,” you swear. 
He peers into your eyes a little too long, but you let him search for the lie that isn’t there until he’s satisfied. He blinks and then gives a sharp nod. “Good,” he says. “Then close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Close them,” he repeats. “You don’t need to know how to get where we’re going.”
Another thing to comply with. Rolling your eyes, you drop your arms to your sides. Jake pulls a blindfold out of his jeans pocket and folds it in thirds. 
“Seriously?”
He looks up and steps closer. “Close, your, eyes,” he instructs again.
With a sigh you do as he says, then he wraps the fabric around your head, tying a little knot in the back. 
“This is–” Stupid, you were going to say, but you’re cut off by the yelp that escapes your throat when you’re suddenly lifted into his arms, your legs and wings draped over his forearms. 
“Hold on Angel,” he says. 
Your hands clasp behind his neck. “Yea, no kidding.”
When he shoots up into the air, you have to tuck your head against his t-shirt to block out the rush and whirl of wind that’s quickly encompassing you. It’s all too fast, the pressure much too extreme that you feel as if you’ve gained thirty pounds in ten seconds. It’s the initial take-off of the rollercoasters at the theme park you went to as a child. The kind of feeling that locks your limbs in place. 
However, it’s not long that you’re going up before you begin to fall back down at a speed that suggests the man holding you can’t fly and you’re about to greet the end of your life. The sharp change in movement twists and curls your insides. Your lungs are confused, unsure whether inhaling or exhaling would better suit you at the moment. You don’t know, so you don’t breathe. 
Jake lands with a thud and sets you down on wobbly legs. One large hand wraps around your upper arm; the other slips the blindfold over your head and back into his pocket. You’re well-hidden behind a large tree as your eyes adjust to the bright neon lights that bleed from the city night.
Home. You’re home. You’re at the far end of a sidewalk by the docks that no one visits after six o’clock in the evening, but it’s still home, and you already feel yourself being sucked in by the central bustle of bodies and cars. 
You take a step forward, much weaker than you intended, and Jake’s grip on you tightens. 
“Not yet,” he says. “You need to shed your wings.” 
That detail had escaped you, the excitement too overpowering. But you keep that excitement from showing on the outside, just as you had when he’d told you a few days ago that removing the wings was possible for you, too.
Standing taller, you prepare yourself for more instructions.
“Close your eyes again,” he begins, his voice a deep vibration in your ear. “Clear your mind. Create an image of your wings and the feathers plucking free, falling to the ground one at a time until you have no more. Picture the bone and cartilage crumbling,” he says. “And keep doing that until you feel the loss of the weight.”
It takes at least a full minute, but you’re lighter. When you look down, your feathers coat the ground, a few layered with his. Like ash and snow. 
“Good,” he says, but his tone doesn’t match the praise. It’s the slightest bit wounded as if he’s grieving something he held dear. 
You turn your head. Your eyes flick to his and you find them glued to your back—your back which is now bare of the one thing that shows the world you’re something other than human. 
His Adam's apple bobs. “Let’s go,” he says. 
“Where can we?”
“Anywhere that keeps you from running into someone that would recognize you or would’ve been concerned about your sudden absence.”
That definitely knocks out work, the old late-night cafe you used to frequent, the park on third—too small. But as far as you know, everything else is fair game. And if it’s not, you’re sure Jake won’t hesitate to inform you.
The temptation he’d warned you about isn’t as aggressive as you anticipated. It’s there, for sure, but you don’t find yourself itching to be bold. There’s no one you wish to see, and you skirt the perimeters of the locations you choose because of the thought that you might fuck up and give him reasons not to bring you back in the future.
He should be thrilled with your behavior. He should be riding one of his ego trips from getting you to do what he wants without additional scolding, but that’s not what’s happening. Instead, he’s worse by the hour. 
Occasionally his eyes light up when you smile or chuckle at the places and things you haven’t seen for the month that has felt like a year, but between your grins and laughs, his face hasn’t once failed to fall. 
He has taken to trailing behind you. If both hands are not in his pockets it is because one is running through his hair or down his face. To your statements, he hums. To your questions, he mutters answers. He hates it, you realize. All of it. Almost as much as you hate the place he has forced you to exist in ever since he took you.
His mood is only exacerbated by your desire to go to your apartment.
“Can you hold this?” you ask as you raise the window. “Won’t stay up, and maintenance ignored all of my requests.”
Jake nods, placing his hand on the base of the sill so you can ease yourself through the opening. You do the same for him as he steps off the fire escape onto the ragged carpet of your living room floor. 
You take in the space, and it’s so…weird. Not a thing has shifted from the place you left it. The only additions left out of the memory you’ve kept in your mind are the layer of dust coating every surface and the slip of paper under your front door with Eviction Warning written in red lettering. And the smell. It doesn’t smell like you remember. You’re not immediately soaked in the scent of lavender essence left over from the half-burnt candle on the side table.
“Feels like I’ve been gone forever,” you say. You look over your shoulder at Jake. “Does time move differently there and I just didn’t notice?”
His hands are back in his pockets. His eyes are tired. “No, Angel,” he says.
Your sigh fades into a hum. 
As you move about the room, you measure it all with your eyes.
Your couch. You always sat on the right. That cushion is more worn than the other two. 
The lampshade is still crooked from when you last changed the lightbulb. Its poor alignment had caused a slight burn mark in the material from the shade leaning against the heat of the bulb, and yet, rather than straighten it out, you had twisted it on its diagonal axis so the mark faced the wall.
The TV remote is nowhere in sight, of course, because you were never the best at remembering where you put it down; a habit so frustrating you’re tempted to hunt for it now. 
Your coffee table still has the scratch in the middle from when you’d dropped your mug onto the wood, shattering it to pieces. That had pissed you off. You’d just bought it from the flea market.
A mug—you’d left one out that morning. You turn your head to your kitchen where it still sits on the counter. 
You walk over and grab it. There’s a coffee ring in the bottom, so you take it to the sink and wash it out, then flip it over to dry on a dishcloth. You weren’t a fan of leaving dishes scattered about, even for half a day, but you don’t know why it ever mattered. Since moving in, no one had entered this place but you, and well…him. 
Suddenly, something deep and thick descends upon you. Though the space around you appears to have frozen in time from the moment you disappeared, there are things that did not freeze along with it that you can’t ignore.
Like the food in your fridge and the special chocolate cookies in your cabinet that the grocery store rarely had in stock. Rotten and stale. What a waste. 
There’s a plant in your bathroom—a little one that relied on your sense of responsibility to keep it alive. It sits on a shelf in a dark purple pot you’d found on sale and now brittle leaves surely litter the tiles. 
And, oh god, the cat. You used to leave a bowl of tuna out for the stray cat that climbed the stairs to paw at your window. What about him? Is he ok? Did he give up after being ignored? How long did that take? Did he feel abandoned? Does he miss you?
Bracing your hands on the counter, your head falls forward. You close your eyes and take a breath, and then you open them and—Fuck, there’s a cheerio on the floor. You forgot the damn cheerio; that tiny ring of processed wheat from breakfast that has been hanging out here in limbo wondering if it’ll be trashed or devoured by ants because you were running late that morning and told yourself you’d throw it out later but you didn’t and so there’s a fucking cheerio on your floor. 
You can’t look at it, but then you don’t know where to look, or what to do. You don’t dare go into your bedroom. The sheets will be rumpled. Your underwear will be wherever it landed when it was taken off your body and tossed aside.
Shit, the laundry! You forgot to take it out of the washing machine. Mildew probably grew in the creases and folds. They'll have to go through the cycle again. You'll need detergent. You're out of detergent—used the last of it on the load that needs to be rewashed. Your favorite t-shirts are mixed in there somewhere. But it’s fine. You’ll do a quick wash, quick dry, quick fold, and put them in the drawer where they belong. How long could that take? An hour? Two? You have enough time, right? And while you're at it you really should set some tuna out and get rid of the spoiled food and fix the lampshade and find the remote and apologize to the plant and–
“We can pretend, Angel,” Jake whispers from behind you, making you jolt in your spot. You didn’t hear his approach—he keeps doing that—and he’s so close that his breath flutters wisps of your hair. “Forget everything, for a bit. Be the way we were that night.”
His disruption sidetracks you from the laundry, the cheerio, the cat, the plant, the food. For a second, you can barely process his words, but it doesn’t take long for the confusion to sort itself out.
You swallow. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to be human anymore,” you whisper, reminding him of what he has drilled into your brain again and again and again.
“You’re not,” he says. Then his arms are flanking your sides, palms pressing into the edge of the countertop. “But we look the part, don’t we?” Hot air is on your neck. You think you can hear his heart thumping. “Just tonight. Just here.”
Just here. Here, the last place you were before he made you into the creature you are. Here, the last place you can say that you were entirely you. Here, the last place you spent a happy moment. Your final happy moment. A moment that included him, back when you believed you were bringing home some guy. Just some guy. A beautiful guy. A human guy. 
You liked that human guy.
You miss that human guy.
Sometimes you wish he'd show up again. Save you and promise you it was all a nightmare.
“Why?” you ask.
“Don’t ask why,” he answers. “Just tell me yes.”
And because you don’t want to go back to thinking about what you’ve lost; because you’re uneasy and overwhelmed and numb and weak now that you're realizing home really isn’t home anymore but a ghostly echo of who you were, you don’t possess the mental wherewithal to care about your decisions. All you want is a memory—a good memory—within your reach. 
So you turn yourself right around, and you kiss him.
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As You Wish, Chapter 10
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Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.
Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, panic attack, drinking, sadness, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, swearing, character falling in the pool
A/N: No flashback for this one because I wanted to jump right into the chapter you've all been waiting for!
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Hotel Zaza, Now
Charlie kept her eyes peeled as she scanned the lobby for her mother, her father, and her potential future stepmother. She couldn’t believe that Uncle Bob had lost her mother. It was literally his only job in this whole operation.
Beside her, Natasha grumbled under her breath, echoing her thoughts. “…great WSO, terrible wingman,” she had just finished grumbling, leaning against a large white column as her one good eye surveyed the people coming and going. “Heads up, there’s your mom,” Nat jerked her head as Buttercup rushed from the elevator, clad in her yoga pants and tank top from earlier.
Charlie groaned as she saw her father and a blond young woman emerge from the crowd, the woman looking around as though looking for someone before heading to the front desk. “Oh crap, they’re gonna end up right next to each other!”
“Would it be so bad if they did? Takes the pressure off you and Abby to be the ones to reintroduce them,” Nat shrugged.
“I don’t know! Javy and Roo always made it seem like the world would end if my parents ended up in the same room together,” Charlie moaned, watching anxiously as her mother and the blond that she guessed was Savannah came closer and closer to each other, Jake trailing behind with his eyes on his phone.
Beside her, Nat rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, Javy always had a knack for the dramatic.”
“I thought you liked my dramatics, Phoenix?” a deep voice sounded from behind them, and they both turned.
Javy stood smiling at them; his thick arms crossed against his chest.
“Uncle Javy!” Charlie launched herself at him and found herself caught in his strong tattooed arms.
“Hey there, girlie!” Javy hugged her close for a moment before placing her back on her feet. “No warm welcome from you, Phoenix?” He held his arms open playfully, an earnestness twinkling in his eyes that Charlie wasn’t sure she’d ever seen before, but Natasha just scoffed.
“How about you do something useful and go stop your best friend from blowing this whole operation before it starts?”
Javy blinked at her, hurt flashing momentarily in his eyes before he crossed his arms. “Is that anyway to talk to your friend?”
Natasha rolled her eyes, turning her head slightly so that half her face was against the pillar. “We haven’t been friends in a long time, Machado.”
Javy’s shoulders bowed forward. “I know, but I never wanted it to be that way.”
“Then what did you want?” Natasha snapped.
Charlie huffed and turned away from them. The concierge desk had four people working at it, and, luckily, her mother was in line for the first person, and her dad was in line at the third. The odds of them seeing each other weren’t high, but Charlie didn’t want to take any chances.
With a gulp, she ran over to where her dad was in line, Savannah hanging all over him.
“Dad?” she hid her trembling hands. She had missed him so incredibly much, despite being so angry with him for hiding her mother and sister from her. He was still her dad and she hadn’t seen him in over a month, so while she really wanted to give him a hug and never let him go, she instead hid her hands behind her back and waited for him to respond.
Jake disentangled himself from Savannah, turning to her with a bright smile on his face. “Hey sweetheart, did you and Rooster find the pool?”
“Yeah, but…they don’t have any change rooms!” she blurted out the first excuse that came to her mind. “Could you show me where our room is so I can get changed?”
Savannah pouted before Jake could even open his mouth. “Sugar, we’ve got to meet the wedding planner.”
Jake fixed her with a look that had her pouting bottom lip sucking back in. “And we’ll have plenty of time to do that. But I’m not allowing my daughter to wander around the hotel alone. C’mon, Charlie. I’ll take you up to the room.”
Charlie felt a smile creep onto her lips. “Thanks dad.”
Savannah sighed, a dramatic, long-suffering thing, before she nodded. “Fine. Let’s go back to the room. But then we have to meet Phillipe.”
Charlie glanced at her father’s face quick enough to catch the tail end of him rolling his eyes. “Yes, dear.”
Charlie stifled a giggle as they weaved through the crowded lobby and hustled into the glass elevator. Savannah pouted and leaned her back against the glass as Jake punched their floor number before taking the two steps towards her and wrapping his arms around her waist.
“It’ll take five minutes, tops,” he murmured, pressing a placating kiss to her hair as the car started to move, rising them up above the lobby.
Jake glanced down, always having loved heights, even if he was only going a few stories high, and his heart stopped.
There, standing below them, waiting for the next elevator car, was…
But it couldn’t be. She wouldn’t be in Texas. There was no way. She had practically sworn off the States after the papers had been approved, even going so far as to take her brother and her closest friend with her when she had basically fled.
Jake blinked, but the phantom from his past didn’t disappear. Instead, she raised a timid hand and waved at him, a small smile tugging on her lips.
Jake felt his knees begin to buckle, and it had nothing to do with the elevator car coming to a halt or his girlfriend—no, fiancée—kissing his neck.
She was here. His Buttercup…she was here. In the same hotel as him. In the same hotel as him and Charlie. Did that mean Abby was with her?
Jake’s heart began to race. She was here. She was here.
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The second her dad and Savannah wandered off to meet Phillipe, Charlie scurried back to the elevator, rode it two floors down, and practically sprinted to her mom’s room, where she knocked rapidly.
Her own familiar face opened the door and she smiled brightly. “Abby!”
Abby returned her hug with fierce strength. “Charlie!”
They stood standing, smiling at each other for a moment before a deep voice interrupted them. “You two are gonna blow our cover if you keep standing out there for the world to see you.”
Charlie grinned and sprinted at her uncle. “Uncle Roo!”
He scooped her up with his usual begrudging smile. “Hey kid. Good to see ya. Now get your butts inside before someone spots you.”
Both girls rushed into the room, both smiling at Bob where he lounged on the bed.
“Crisis averted?” he teased.
Abby glared playfully. “There wouldn’t have been a crisis if you hadn’t lost our mother.”
“I had to take a phone call,” he defended, a small smile playing on his lips. “Where is your mom?”
“I’m right here.”
Abby turned and spotted her mother, standing in the doorway that connected the two rooms.
“Mum!” she launched herself across the room and was caught by those soft, strong arms that wrapped around her fiercely.
“Oh my girl…” Buttercup whispered into her hair. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Abby whispered into her mother’s neck, feeling the tears stinging her eyes. As much as she had loved being with her dad and uncles, she had missed her mother just as much. Her warmth, her strength, her slight floral smell, the way she laughed. All of it. “I’m sorry I went to Texas without telling you.”
Buttercup sniffled and straightened. “I understand why you did, baby. However, what I don’t understand…” she placed her hands on her hips. “Is why your father just looked at me like he had no idea I was on the same planet as he is, let alone the same continent.:
Abby stepped back, falling into line with Charlie, and they both gulped. “What do you mean?”
“Your father spotted me when he was riding the elevator up, and, from the look on his face, he had no idea I was going to be here.” She looked between them sternly. “You did tell him that I was going to be here, yes?” As the two sisters stared at each other guiltily, she groaned. “You didn’t tell him?”
“Well, mum…” Abby started. “You see, we…that is to say, Charlie and I…”
Rooster and Bob started to edge around the room towards the front door, but Buttercup held a finger up at them.
“Freeze, you two!” she barked. “You allowed my daughters to—to—bamboozle us this way?”
Bob tensed while Rooster purposefully dropped his shoulders. “Bamboozle you how?” he asked, a forced calmness in his voice.
Buttercup huffed. “What is this? Is this about you still not believing that a divorce was the best course of action for us, Bradley? Or about how you always thought we should have tried harder with the custody arrangement, Bob?”
Charlie stepped up. “It’s not their fault, mom. We…we wanted you and dad to be happy.”
Buttercup couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that escaped her. “And how is cornering your father on the tour of his wedding venue going to make him happy?”
Charlie felt herself flush and she opened her mouth, but it was Abby who spoke first. “We don’t want to have to live with this custody arrangement anymore, mum. We were hoping that, if you and dad saw each other again, you’d be able to figure out another way, so we can share the two of you instead of having to live separate lives.”
Buttercup folded in on herself, arms crossing in front of her, not defensively, but protectively. “I…I know the custody arrangement wasn’t fair to the two of you. I…you’ll never know how sorry I am for that. But forcing your father and I into this…” she shook her head. “Why didn’t you just talk to me? Talk to us? Especially once you met at camp.”
“Mum…” Abby bit her lip. “I wanted to. I really did. But you always seemed so hurt whenever I brought up dad, and…and I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“I wanted to talk to you too, but…” Charlie gulped. “But I was so scared that you wouldn’t love me if I pushed you to talk to dad. And I was terrified that you were going to say no.”
Buttercup drew in a deep breath and her shaky exhale drew the attention of Rooster and Bob, still edging towards the door. They paused in their quest for freedom, and Bob looked tempted to approach his sister, but Rooster’s hand on his shoulder stilled him.
“I…I’m so sorry, girls,” Buttercup whispered. “I wish I could do it all different. I wish that things had turned out differently for all of us. I wish that your father and I—”
The door that stood mere feet from Rooster and Bob burst open, letting in a bickering Natasha and Javy. Buttercup jumped as their voices raised.
“—I never said that!”
“Oh, but you implied it! How else was I supposed to take that?”
“You can take it and shove it up your—”
“Enough!” Buttercup shouted, bringing the room to a standstill, quiet as a pin-drop. Her hands covered her face, and it was only the keenest of eyes that could pick up the slight trembling of her limbs. “The four of you—” she shot a pointed look at the four retired aviators in the room. “Owe me a massive explanation for why you thought it was okay to manipulate J-Jake and I. I trusted you. Natasha, you and Bob know how I felt about this meeting and you still decided to blindside me. And I’m sure Jake will feel similarly once he finds out that his two closest friends are pulling the rug out from under him while he’s planning the happiest day of his life. And girls? There are so many reasons why what you did is not okay. First, switching places at camp and now forcing your father and I into close proximity. I’m trying to be understanding but…” she sighed heavily, her hands sagging back to her sides. “I need a drink,” she murmured, backing towards the door. “You four can watch my daughters,” she added with a glare at the four adults quietly sulking around the edge of the room.
Looking down at the guilt-ridden faces of her daughters, Buttercup sighed and stooped to hug them both into her arms. “I love you both,” she whispered, sniffling slightly. “I’m not mad, I’m just…I need some fresh air. Stay here. Please.”
With another small sniffle, she turned and fled the room, leaving six guilty parties staring after her.
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Jake found himself boring holes into the ugly paisley wallpaper of the hotel hallway, listening to Phillipe yammer on about some special flooring package. Or was it a floral package? Either way, Savannah seemed thrilled and was too busy chatting with her new bridal BFF to notice that her future husband hadn’t said a word since the elevator.
Buttercup was here. In Texas. He hadn’t seen her since…
His stomach roiled at the thought of their last meeting, the tears they had both shed as they left their wedding rings on the table and said goodbye to one of their daughters. Her tear-stained face and the gauntness of her cheeks, the bags under her eyes. His memory was in sharp contrast to the woman he had seen in the lobby, all full cheeks and glossy hair, all smiles as she had waved at him.
He shuffled his feet as a funny feeling exploded in his stomach at the thought of her. It was Abby. It had to be because of Abby. Jake hadn’t held his daughter in over ten years, and if she had come to Texas with her mother…
Jake’s hand dove into his pocket before he could second guess himself. He wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to see his daughter. And if his chest tightened at the idea of seeing his ex-wife? That was just the nerves talking, of course.
“Hey, sweetheart?” Jake called, his eyes widening theatrically. “I just got a call from Sarah. Our vet on staff? Apparently something came up on one of the horses tests and she wants to talk to me about our options. She says it’s urgent, otherwise I wouldn’t be asking. But why don’t you and Phillipe make some decisions and you can tell me all about them later?”
Savannah pouted and Jake was honestly a little surprised that she didn’t stomp her foot for emphasis. “But Jakey!”
“I know, sweetheart,” he crooned, his feet already shuffling him away towards the door. “But I trust you. You can make whatever choices your heart desires. I just want you to be happy with this wedding.”
Apparently, he had said the magic words because Savannah turned back to Phillipe without another word to Jake and said, “In that case, what about the premium lighting package? Can we add more chandeliers?”
Jake ignored her as he took off towards the elevator, wondering where he should even start looking. The hotel was huge, but he would knock on every door he could if it meant finding his Buttercup. Jake shook his head at himself. No. He wouldn’t allow himself to go down that path. He was searching for Abby. His daughter. Not his ex-wife. However…his daughter was likely to be wherever his ex-wife was, so he supposed he would have to search them both out. But where the hell to start?
Jake exited the elevator onto the main floor and scanned the lobby. His Buttercup wasn’t much of a gym fiend, more into home yoga and cardio than anything, so the gym was out. She was an author, he knew, but it didn’t seem likely that she would be in a conference room.
Jake paused and leaned against a white marble pillar. He had to think. Think like Buttercup. She liked the water, he remembered. They had had way too many fun memories on the beaches of Coronado for him to pick just one favourite, but the way she had smiled at him while surrounded by the sun and sand and surf was enough to warm his soul even ten years later.
The mere thought of it had him turning and racing down the hall towards the indoor pool. He quickly palmed his keycard against the magnetic lock and stepped into the room, almost taking a step back when the overwhelming smell of chlorine caught his nose, but he persisted, doing a quick lap of the pool and surrounding deck chairs to try to spot Buttercup or Abby.
“Sir, can I help you?” a lifeguard regarded him suspiciously, and Jake took a second to realize how it must have looked, a fully dressed man scanning every woman and child in the pool room.
“Sorry,” he felt himself redden. “I just thought…my wife said she was heading to the pool with our daughter, but I don’t see her.” He didn’t see Charlie either, but he had enough questions on his mind to wonder where she might have gotten to.
“She might’ve meant the rooftop pool,” the lifeguard offered helpfully. “There’s a cabana bar and a waterslide that the kids really seem to love.”
“Thanks, man,” Jake replied, already turning on his heel to head back to the elevator. Of course, she would head to the rooftop pool instead of the indoor pool. She hated the smell of chlorine and she always said the water felt better when you could feel the breeze in your hair. She was up there. Jake could feel it in his bones.
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Buttercup placed the glass back on the bar with a little more force than necessary before meeting the bartender’s gaze and saying, “Another one, please.”
He frowned a little disapprovingly but poured her another rum and Diet Coke, her second since sitting down at the cabana bar next to the pool five minutes ago.
I love my daughters. I love my family. I love my friends. I love my daughters. I love my family. I love my friends. I love my daughters…she chanted to herself as she sipped the second drink slowly. What they had done, tricking her here on some half-cocked dream of getting her and her ex-husband back, was so far over the line that she was fairly certain they didn’t even know where the line was anymore, but she loved them. Her daughters especially had their hearts in the right place, and she couldn’t fault them for wanting a normal dynamic between their parents. It’s what she herself had always wanted for her family. But things didn’t always turn out the way you dreamed. That was made especially clear to her when she spotted the bottle blond wrapped around her ex-husband, at least ten years her junior and basically painted into her blue jeans. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was her daughters. She would face Jake. She had to. She wouldn’t live a life without Charlie, not anymore. She wouldn’t fight him for full custody, but she would do everything in her power to make 50/50 possible for her girls. She could do that much for them…after she had another drink.
She threw back her second drink and asked the bartender for another one. He rolled his eyes but poured the drink and handed it to her before moving off to clear up some of the glasses that had been left on the poolside tables. Her eyes followed him as she nursed her third drink, tracking his movements as he collected glass after glass before her eyes caught on a figure rapidly approaching from the roof’s door.
“Buttercup?”
Her stomach roiled, and she decided that three drinks in less than ten minutes was a bad idea. “Oh god,” she whispered, turning away from him and stumbling to her feet. She couldn’t do this. She wouldn’t do this while drunk. She needed to be stone cold sober to be able to face him, otherwise she’d make a fool of herself. And she had promised herself that she would never make a fool of herself in front of Jake Seresin ever again.
Buttercup quickly straightened and walked away from him. If someone accused her of running away from him, she would have no defence but that didn’t matter to her. She wouldn’t face him until she was confident in herself, and she couldn’t be less confident after three drinks.
Buttercup passed the bartender as she heard Jake’s footsteps pounding behind her. “Buttercup, wait!”
“Don’t call me that,” she whispered, feeling her heart pound at his nearness.
“Buttercup, I—”
A loud crash sounded behind her, and Buttercup spun on her heel to see what was happening, but she didn’t see anything before her flip flop caught on the tile of the pool and she stumbled unsteadily, falling backwards right into the pool.
The chill of the water immediately sobered her as she flailed in the deep end, trying to figure out which way was up before a strong arm wrapped around her waist and tugged her to the surface.
She gasped as the fresh air kissed her face, that arm not leaving her as it towed her towards the edge of the pool.
“Th-thank you,” she panted, frantically pushing her wet hair from her eyes.
“Don’t mention it…” an achingly familiar voice replied, deep and playful with a beautiful Texan twang.
Buttercup clutched the edge of the pool as she blinked, her vision clearing enough to see Jake Seresin a mere foot away from her, his dark blond hair plastered to his forehead and his white button-down shirt almost see-through.
“J-Jake…”
He grinned, that cocky grin that she had always hated because it meant his shields were up. “You weren’t trying to run away from me, were you?”
“No!” she shivered and started pulling herself along the pool’s edge towards the stairs. “Don’t be so full of yourself. Not everything is about you.”
Jake chuckled as he did the butterfly stroke beside her, easily keeping pace as she clumsily looked for an escape. “But it’s so much fun to think that everything is about me,” he grinned a Cheshire cat smile at her that would’ve had her defences melting a decade ago.
Buttercup reached the pool’s ladder and didn’t have it in her to swat away Jake’s hands on her waist to help steady her as she climbed out of the pool, a staff member greeting her with a fluffy white towel as she stood in her dripping clothes. Jake smoothly exited the pool next to her and wrapped the towel around his shoulders.
“So, are you saying you’re not in Texas to see me?” Jake asked, his green eyes glinting in her direction.
Buttercup swallowed. “As a matter of fact…” She had to tell him. She had to just come out and say it. It wasn’t fair to the girls to make them do it, and it wasn’t fair to him to keep him waiting. “I am here for you. And I thought you were here for me.”
Jake’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”
“Mum!”
“Dad!”
Both jolted away from each other, not realizing how much they had moved into each other’s space as they talked.
Abby and Charlie stood before them, mouths gaping.
“What on Earth did you do?”
“Why did you go swimming in your clothes?”
Buttercup pulled the towel tighter around her shoulders as Jake turned and gaped at the two almost-12-year-olds standing in front of him.
“Did I hit my head when I jumped into the pool after you?” Jake murmured, not taking his eyes off the two girls.
Buttercup shook her head. “No…they’re both here. It’s…kind of a long story.”
One of the twins gulped. “Please don’t be mad.”
“It’s not Mum’s fault.”
“We met at camp—”
“—and we figured out that we’re twins, and—”
“—and we decided to switch places—”
“—because we wanted to meet you and—”
Jake crouched in front of them as they rambled and slowly, carefully, placed a hand on each of their shoulders before pulling them into a tight hug.
“I don’t care,” he whispered tightly, cradling them both against his strong body as years of pent-up longing and grief threatened to spill out over his cheeks. “I don’t care how it happened. I’ve waited years to hold you both in my arms again. So that’s what I’m going to do.”
He pulled them even tighter against his chest and his heart fractured as he felt them—both of them—wrap their arms around him. And if a few tears fell, then who could blame him?
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(after Hangman gets a job offer that'll take him halfway across the world for a long time) Rooster:...Jake, I love you. I don't wanna let you go. Hangman: Bradley, I love you, too. But this is a great opportunity, I have to take it. Look, everything's gonna be alright. You'll see. Rooster: No. No, it won't. We have to be together...always. Hangman: Look, Rooster, what do you want from me? Rooster: I want you...I want you to marry me! Hangman: What?! Phoenix, Coyote, Payback, Bob, Fanboy (who'd all been listening at the door and suddenly burst into the room): - WHAT?!
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Unbroken
Part 14
(previous part here)
Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x You
Summary: It’s the end.
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Warnings: 18+ MDNI! A little smut, p in v, biting, a little exhibitionism (kinda?), use of a makeshift gag, overstimulation, etc.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
A few weeks later on a beautiful spring Saturday, you became Mrs. Bradshaw.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the church as your dad escorted you down the aisle in a beautiful white gown (your mom insisted it was fine for you to wear white, since “no one’s a virgin anymore when they get married”) to Bradley, looking handsome as ever in his dress blues.
It was a small, intimate ceremony with only your family, Mav, and Penny present due to the short notice, but the plan was to have a larger reception the following year after the baby arrived.
After the emotional vows, exchanging of rings and the pronunciation of husband and wife, a small get-together is held at your parent’s house.
There are a few tears shed but a lot more laughter when the toasts are given. You notice Charlie discreetly switching her full flute of champagne out with Jake’s but he fails to notice.
It’s when she knocks over her chair in haste to get to the bathroom when Jake sets a plate of food in front of her that your suspicions are confirmed.
“You okay?” You ask when she comes back a few minutes later, leaning on your brother and pale as a ghost.
“Yeah,” she replies with a forced smile. But her lip begins to quiver before she bursts into tears.
“What’s wrong?” You ask as you rub her back. You look to Jake but he’s just as confused as you.
“I’m so sorry, I just found out this morning,” she sobs, “I didn’t want to take away from your special day and here I am making a big scene.”
“Found out what this morning?” Jake asks, still not connecting the dots.
“That I’m pregnant,” she replies, smiling briefly before her face crumples again. “I was planning on telling you tonight with this cute onesie and now I fucking ruined it like I ruined their wedding day-“
She cuts off with an ‘oomph’ as Jake wraps her in his arms. Even Mav has tears in his eyes at the scene unfolding.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
“You didn’t ruin anything,” you assure her, hugging her when it’s finally your turn. “In fact, the news made it even better.”
“Really?” She asks, wet tears hitting your shoulder.
“Really,” you confirm, laughing through your own as the news settles in. “Oh my God, this is amazing! Our babies are gonna grow up together, Charlie.”
“God help us all,” Tom mumbles, gasping when Ruth gives him a pinch. “Hey! I was kidding!”
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
Bradley takes you to a sleepy little beach town for your honeymoon/babymoon 3 months later, shortly after finding out you’re having a girl.
Her initial tiny flutters were turning into more pronounced kicks but Bradley had yet to feel anything. The little stinker ceases all movement the moment he touches your stomach.
The second trimester has been a breeze; the nausea is gone and your mood swings level out while your sex drive seems to increase with every passing week.
You’re insatiable, which isn’t a bad thing considering Bradley can’t keep his hands off your body, especially your growing belly.
“How do I look?” You ask under the shade of the cabana he rented as you drop your swimsuit cover revealing a bikini underneath before giving him a spin. “The top is a little small-“
You laugh as he desperately yanks down the sunshade, giving you some privacy.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
“Shhhh,” you shush him a few minutes later after he fails to bite back his groan as you ride him at a steady, unforgiving pace. “Gotta be quiet.”
“I can’t-fuck!” His eyes roll back when you pinch his nipple at the same time you pinch one of yours. “I’m trying.”
“Try harder,” you pant, smirking down at him. “Or I’ll make you.”
He chuckles breathlessly. “I’d like to see you try-shit,” he rasps when you lean forward to suck a bruise near his collarbone while your hand reaches for your discarded bikini bottoms.
His eyes fly open and his hips stutter when you force the material into his mouth, sadly muffling his wrecked sounds.
You’re getting close but he cums soon after, unable to hold off with you on top of him and the taste of your arousal on his tongue.
You ride him faster, pushing him into overstimulation as you chase your orgasm. He trembles under you and a quiet whimper escapes when you sink your teeth into his pec, right underneath the bruise you sucked moments earlier as the waves of pleasure wash over you.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
“What about Iris?” Bradley asks, playing with your hair as he again searches for baby names.
Your first suggestion when you had found out her gender had been Carole or at least a variation to honor his mom, but he shook his head with an exasperated sigh before telling you how she forbade it after she got sick. Apparently, she had never cared for her name, but begrudgingly agreed to let it be a middle name; as long as the future mom agreed.
“Hmm?” You hum sleepily against his chest.
Between the sunshine, fresh air, and good sex, you’re ready for a nap. The slow swaying of the hammock you’re in isn’t helping.
“Iris. For her name,” he replies, setting his phone aside before kissing your forehead. “It’s pretty and it means ‘rainbow’; which is fitting since she’s a rainbow baby.”
Hot tears swim in your eyes as he heals yet another part of you that he didn’t break. You lift your head to look at him. “Yes. It’s perfect,” you whisper, tilting your chin to request a kiss. “You’re perfect. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he replies, bringing his arm around to palm your stomach. “And you, Iris Carole Bradshaw.”
That’s when she gives him her biggest kick yet.
“Whoa,” he laughs, delighted, “did you feel that? She kicked! Wow.”
“I think she likes the name too,” you smile, placing your hand over his.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
Iris graces the world with her presence a few months later, followed by her cousin, ‘Lou’ Seresin not long after, both perfect in every way.
The end.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
A/N: Welllllllll that’s the end! I’m not sure how to feel.
Sorry if it seemed rushed, I realize I really suck at wrapping things up 🥴
Anyone else want to cry when Bradley suggested the name Iris? 🙋🏻‍♀️
Also (maybe it’s obvious but just in case it’s not) Louisa is both a nod to Emma (middle name Lou) and Charlie’s late mama, Lisa.
If there’s anything you want me to add or answer, let me know! My inbox is always open ☺️
As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!
Tagging (please let me know if you want to be added/removed!):
@its-the-pilot
@dizzybee03
@sweetwhispersofchaos
@shanimallina87
@blindedbythelightt
@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth
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military-newsboys · 2 days
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Ice: Mav, I need your location! Mav: I'm by the cloud that looks like a deer! Ice: *sigh* Can you be more specific? Mav: Bambi Ice: I hate you.
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 3 days
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Hi! I love your work! Can I request for the seaside prompts nr.19 with Jake? Thank u so much 🩷
the prompt, for anyone who can't remember (i couldn't either, it's been like half a year): "they carry you bridal-style into the water"
also thank you so much honey!!! <33
top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs
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Jake's eyes were fixed on you and you squirmed under his gaze, already dreading whatever was about to come. There was a faint hint of a smile on his lips, but it looked more directed at himself than at you. Your hands slipped off his jaw and came to rest against his bare chest, ready to push him away if necessary.
"What?", you asked carefully, eyeing him up. Not that you had much means to fight whatever it was he had planned. You were spread out beneath him, completely at his mercy. Usually that had you feeling a different type of way.
"Just admiring my beautiful girlfriend", he muttered, his fingers tightening on your jaw again. He pulled you in once more, lips meeting his in a slow, almost lazy kiss. Your shoulders slumped a bit and you relaxed as your hands drew up and down his skin. Sometimes you really were a bit too mistrustful.
Yeah.
Not today though.
You shouldn't have believed him as easily as you did. Because as much as he did stare at you and as much as he did admire you in daily life, today he had absolutely been planning something, sharpening in the back of his mind, and it happened much too quickly for you to realise.
His arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled away, his fingers splayed out against your bare skin and within less than a second (it seemed) he was standing and you were stumbling against him, still a bit light-headed from the kiss. He bent down again to adjust his grip, to lift you up before you could react in practically any way except to loop your arms around his neck and cling to him in shock.
"Jake", you hissed as his arm hooked under your knees, his skin sticking to yours, sweaty and sandy from the sun and the beach. "Jake, whatever you're trying - don't."
If this hadn't been him, you'd probably have found it rather cute. It wasn't the first time he'd had you bridal-style in his arms, but it was certainly not a regular occurrence either. And to be entirely honest, your heart did flutter just the slighest bit.
But it was him. It very much was him. And you knew him. He wasn't the type to sweep you up in his arms and snog you in a moment of sudden romance. He was more the type of guy to-
Oh, hell no.
Your eyes widened in shock as you realised just what he was up to.
But he'd already taken too many steps down the beach.
"Jake, Jake, no!", you screeched, clawing harder at him, clenching your arms around his neck and trying to climb further up his body. "I swear to god, if you-"
You couldn't even finish your sentence. He'd dropped you down into the ice-cold waves before you could get halfway through your threat.
The only redeeming aspect about this was that he didn't completely dunk you. Your head was still very much above the water, your eyes squeezed shut, your breath held, but no water splashed against your cheeks.
"Jake", you squeaked anyway, clinging to him with all your might as he chuckled. "Oh my god, you bastard!"
You kicked your legs off his arm and straightened, your arms still locked tight around his neck. Yeah, he was a bastard - but he was your bastard. And you were cold, so you pressed even closer against him, wrapped your legs around his waist and pushed your chest right to his.
"Couldn't resist, darling", he grinned, and for some sick, twisted reason, you had to grin too.
"This is not a reward", you could only mutter before you leaned in and kissed him - right there, in the middle of the ocean, after he'd just very much dropped you into the water. God, how you despised him. And how you loved him anyway.
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ryebecca · 2 days
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"oh, this is the night, it's a beautiful night, and we call it Bella Notte. look at the skies, they have stars in their eyes, on this lovely Bella Notte. side by side with your loved one, you'll find enchantment here. the night will weave its magic spell when the one you love is near." 🐶 👩🏻‍❤️‍👨🏼 ✨ | (the lady and the tramp x hannix au for @roosterforme)
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50calmadeuce · 2 days
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Ch. 24: Happy Thanksgiving
Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.
The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.
I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.
These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)
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Thanksgiving dinner unfolded seamlessly, and every one of Jake's family members buzzed with excitement over your news.
You were assisting Cindy in the kitchen when your cellphone rang. Grabbing it, you saw Jake's face and name on the caller ID.
"It's him, everybody!" you announced excitedly, unable to hide your smile.
As Cindy prepared the kitchen table with the birth announcement decorations, you answered the phone.
"Hey, babe!" you greeted warmly, your voice tinged with both nerves and excitement.
He grinned back, his green eyes twinkling through the screen. "Hey, darlin'! You're mighty cheerful today."
You beamed in response. "I'm always cheerful when you call."
"That is true."
"Let me flip the camera around so you can talk with everyone," you said, pressing the button on your phone to switch to the rear camera. You began walking around, allowing Jake to greet his family members one by one as their faces lit up at seeing him.
As the phone passed from one family member to another, the anticipation built up. Each greeting was filled with warmth and small hints of the upcoming announcement, yet no one spilled the beans. Finally, after everyone had their moment to chat with Jake, you took the phone back, positioning it so that both you and Cindy were in frame.
"Jake, before you say anything else, we have something special to tell you," Cindy began, her voice full of excitement. The background clearly showed the decorations hinting at the big news.
Jake's expression shifted from joyful to stunned as his gaze settled on the creative display you and Cindy had arranged. The centerpiece was his U.S. Naval Academy hat, which you had retrieved from his closet. Alongside it, you placed a printed picture of your ultrasound. You had also found a small dry erase board on which you wrote, 'Baby boy Seresin flying in April.'
You watched his face, eagerly anticipating his reaction to the carefully planned announcement.
Jake's eyes widened as he took in the scene, his surprise evident even through the small screen. For a moment, he was speechless, his mouth agape as he processed the news.
"You're serious?" Jake finally managed, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and disbelief. "We're having a baby? Y/N, where are you?"
You took the phone back from Matt, who had been holding it, and switched the view so you were looking directly at him. "I'm right here."
"Seriously? We're having a baby?" His voice was filled with growing excitement and a touch of nervousness, as the reality of the moment began to sink in.
You glanced at Cindy, who gave you an encouraging nod, and walked into Jake's bedroom where you had been staying. You closed the door behind you, settling onto the edge of the bed, you faced the camera squarely. "Yes, Jake. We're having a baby."
Recognizing the familiar surroundings, his tone mixed happiness with concern. "Baby, I'm so happy, but…how far along are you?"
"Just hit four months this week," you replied softly.
"And you're just telling me now?"
You sighed, gathering the courage to express your feelings. "Because I didn't know how you'd react, Jake."
Jake's features softened further as he absorbed your words. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you knew all too well as his way of processing complex emotions. "I get it," he said slowly, nodding his head. "Are you still working?"
"Yes," you responded, eager to reassure him. "I have interns for both the grant and work. I don't step in unless absolutely necessary." You watched for his reaction, hoping he would understand your commitment to both your work and your health during the pregnancy.
Jake ran his hands through his hair again, his face a mixture of seriousness and hesitation. "Since we're still all about this honesty thing, I did it on purpose."
Confused by his vague admission, you furrowed your brow. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice filled with uncertainty and concern, seeking clarity on what he was trying to tell you.
Jake's words hung heavily between you. "Those four years killed me after we lost the first baby. You are my life, Y/N. I wanted another child with you. That first night when we used protection, I felt like you didn't want me anymore."
Taken aback by his confession, you responded, the surprise evident in your tone. "Jake, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. I used protection because I care about us, about making sure we're both ready and that it's safe. It wasn't about not wanting you—it was about caring for our future together." Your words were firm, hoping to bridge the gap his misunderstanding had created.
Jake's eyes searched yours, the realization dawning slowly as he absorbed your words. "I… I got it so wrong, didn't I?" he murmured, his voice a mix of regret and sadness. "I let my fear and my own insecurities cloud my judgment. I thought if we didn’t try immediately, you might never want to try again."
"Oh, Jake," you sighed, your voice soft but filled with a mixture of love and frustration. "You have always been my world. Why did you never see it?"
Jake's expression shifted, reflecting vulnerability. "Because you were the first person that I love so much it scared me," he admitted, his voice catching slightly. His confession revealed the depth of his feelings and the fears that accompanied them, providing a glimpse into the complexities of his emotions towards you and your relationship.
"Open the door, Y/N," he said.
"Jake, I can't do that," you responded, the confusion deepening. "I'm not there with you."
"Just try opening my bedroom door," he insisted.
You slid off his bed and made your way to the bedroom door. Reaching out, you gently opened it. Just then, Jake came into view, dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt, and a bomber jacket. He put down his phone, his green eyes locking onto yours.
"Jake!" you cried out, your phone slipping from your grasp as you threw your arms around him. At the same time, his arms encircled you, holding you close.
His embrace was tight and reassuring, as if he was trying to make up for all the time lost and the distance that had once been between you. Overwhelmed by the suddenness and the reality of his presence, tears began to well up in your eyes.
"How? When?" you managed to ask between sobs, pulling back just enough to look at him, searching his face for answers.
"The mission got done earlier than expected and I took the first flight. I let mom and dad know. I wanted to surprise you," Jake explained, his voice warm, his smile gentle.
Your heart raced with a mixture of joy and astonishment. "You're really here," you whispered, almost to reassure yourself as much as to express your disbelief.
"Yes, I'm really here," he reassured, his thumb wiping away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. "And I'm not going anywhere, at least not for a little bit."
"Are you excited about the baby?"
"Darlin', I'm excited about everything that involves you." With those words, Jake leaned in and kissed you deeply.
The kiss was a clear testament to his commitment and love, a reassurance that despite the challenges and surprises that had come your way, your bond remained strong. As you parted from the kiss, you felt a surge of hope and excitement about what lay ahead.
"I have so many plans, so many dreams for us and our baby," Jake said, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. "I want to be there for every moment, every milestone."
You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words wrap around you like a comforting blanket. "I'm glad you're here now. That's what matters most."
"I love you, Y/N. Always have, always will," he declared.
"I love you too, Jake Seresin."
You both leaned in for another kiss.
Tags: @buckysteveloki-me @bellyliveslife @tgmreader @86laura11 @dizzybee03 @kmc1989 @guacam011y @nerdgirljen @hookslove1592 @dempy @djs8891
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bo0tleg · 5 hours
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Despite being head over heels in love with Ice and Mav's dynamic in the original Top Gun, the same dynamic in Top Gun Maverick with Rooster and Hangman never worked for me. This is my attempt at voicing why:
DISCLAIMER: This was not created with the intention to offend anybody who ships Hangster/Sereshaw. It is simply my understanding of their relationship, and why it doesn't appeal to me. Opinions are like the butthole, everybody has their own. By all means, continue shipping them if you want to, this is only for fun.
Hangman and Rooster's entire relationship is based on resentment.
Unlike Mav and Ice, they have history. There's something from the past that lingers in all of their interactions, poisoning all of their words and actions.
Hangman is frustrated with Rooster, all the time. Of course, he banters with everyone, Phoenix about her gender, Bob about his callsign, but those are more 5th Grader Playground insults than anything. It's different with Rooster, and not in a good way.
When it comes to Rooster, Hangman goes straight to insult his character. He doubts his judgement, insults his way of being and flying, prods about how he needs to change if he wants to fly the mission.
With Ice, he was criticizing Maverick, not insulting him. Hangman is both criticizing AND insulting Rooster because he perceives him in a less that ideal light.
Hangman doesn't understand why Rooster flies the way that he does, and doesn't try to either. He just sees it as wrong and doesn't think twice about it. He goes straight to insulting him because he thinks that it's wrong, and that it's something about Rooster that needs to be fixed.
And Rooster is constantly exasperated because of it. Hangman prods, and jabs, and insults Rooster, but it never works. The more Hangman pokes, the more Rooster closes up, frustrated. He gets angry, pissed and becomes much LESS inclined to listen to anything Hangman is saying.
Rooster doesn't work well under pressure. And that's the only way Hangman operates.
Throughout the movie, Rooster doesn't listen to Hangman once. He might've been right about Rooster being too slow, but it only fell on deaf ears (not to say that he was right to bring up Goose's death, he was defo wrong about that one). All it causes is strife, to the point where Rooster almost punches Hangman because of how infuriating he was to him.
The entire movie, Hangman provoked Rooster to get him to stop being the way he is, because he sees it as a flaw of character. And it doesn't work.
Rooster only drops his need for playing it safe when Maverick tells him to 'Not think, just do'. Because Mav only gave him a push in the right direction, not throw in his face all of his flaws.
(Side note: This is also the reason Rooster doesn't listen to Mav in their argument, because he thinks Maverick was insulting his way of being by saying he wasn't ready. On the mission, by selecting Rooster as his wingman, he recognizes that he is ready, and that he trusts him with his life. Making him more inclined to listen to Mav once in the canyon.)
A relationship where one person is constantly frustrated by the other and the other is constantly exasperated by the former doesn't work.
Because that's how they are, and that's how they function, and it isn't going to change.
Rooster isn't going to stop frustrating Hangman because that's how he works, and Hangman isn't going to stop making Rooster exasperated because he doesn't know how else to voice his feelings.
I can see where the ship comes from, because obviously. Their homoerotic tension could be seen from space. I totally believe that they might have had a fling in the past that ended badly, and that they possibly could have hooked up at some point in the movie in the 'Hate Sex' vein of things. I just don't think it'd be anything beyond that.
They wouldn't work in the long haul, is what I'm trying to say.
They're too similar, and too different at the same time.
They're both hothead stubborn motherfuckers that couldn't come to an agreement if they tried.
And you might show me the scene where Hangman is happy about Dagger 2 hitting the target, and him being absolutely devastated when the same hornet is shot down. I recognize it, it demonstrates care. Hangman cares.
Thing is, that doesn't change anything that I said prior to that.
It's possible to resent, despise, be bitter towards and irritated by someone and still care about them. It's possible to hate them and still care. Hate them, and feel like you don't hate them all the time. Human emotion is a funny thing like that, nothing is ever black and white, always varying shades of gray.
Just because they hate each other (and yes, that is the reading I have on them, doesn't stop them from being horny fuckers about each other tho) doesn't mean they want the other dead.
I believe it's similar to the sentiment of "I hope you get everything you ever wished for, and that I never hear a word about it". Similar, but not the same, in a way I do not know how to describe. Thus, I used that to give the same vibe.
I can't see any future for them, in any shape or form. They hold too many grudges against each other, and both of them have a tendency of holding on to old (bad) feelings far too strongly. Even if they work through whatever problems they have now, new ones would emerge and they would go through the same process again and again and again.
That isn't healthy nor stable. It's not what either of them should strive for in a relationship. With that, I'd probably say that both of them need stable people that hold logic to high regard, and that are easy going (I say that in general terms, with no one specific in mind for either of them).
All that being said, this is my opinion. This is how I view them, and understand their relationship. They don't work for me because I see no logical way they could.
If they work for you, that's great! Enjoy the air gays 2.0 to your hearts contentment, I'm happy for you.
This was just a fun analysis of my vision, with no intention to diminish anyone who might enjoy them.
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simpforrooster · 8 months
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nothing but a gentleman.
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Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x F!Reader
summary: jake is obsessed with you. you eat it up. you’re obsessed with his obsession. but also with him.
t/w: soft!jake, some cursing
"Get out of here, Bagman. You're giving me a headache."
The blonde aviator grabs at his chest. "God, I love it when you're mean to me." Those green eyes sparkle with mischief under the lights of the Hard Deck.
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin has been pining after you for months.
& you have been loving every second of it. Miramar's resident playboy has only had eyes for you. You haven't seen him spare a glance at any of the other ladies in the bar.
Believe me, they've been looking at him.
"Y/n, how long are you going to keep my boy at arm's length?" Coyote asks from the other side of the pool table. Jake saddles up next to him and feeds you the saddest pout he can muster.
"Yeah, y/n, how long?" Jake asks.
Your intention wasn't to drag this hard-to-get play out for so long. Truthfully, it's becoming hard not to give in to those strong arms. To not lean in when he invades your personal space, feeding you a smart ass comment.
Your shoulder comes up to your ear and falls back down. "Hard to say, Bagman."
"Let's play for it," he tells you. Jake saunters over to you, and leans against the pool table. Crossing his arms over his fit chest, he situates his mouth just outside your ear. "If I win, you've gotta give me a kiss, darlin'."
The way his hot breath falls across your ear causes goosebumps to appear down your arms. Jake notices, and a blonde brow raises.
"What are you? Twelve?" you antagonize.
"Oh, honey. I'm willing to try anything at this point."
"Rack 'em. Honey." You lightly shove him back, your hands reacting to the small second they were on his chest.
"If I win, you give it up," you send the man a sad look.
"Give what up?" he asks.
"All this pining'." Your hand gestures wildly around in the air.
For a moment, despair crosses over that handsome face. He recovers quickly. "Oh, I'm not worried."
Jake lets you break. Two stripes fall into the pocket. Jake comes up behind you before your next shot. His hand slides across your waist and he pulls you into his side.
Right as you pull back, Jake leans down. "Don't scratch."
The cueball follows your striped ball into the pocket.
"Damn," he murmurs. It takes a full 45 seconds to get your heart rate under control.
The jig is up once Jake get in control of the pool table. Not only is he the dagger squad's best dart player, he's got the best pool table on lock, too. There is no way he's going to take it easy on you.
Naturally, he doesn't.
"One more and Hangman gets a kiss," he smirks. He doesn't take his eyes off your as he pulls back and send the cue ball sailing.
The eight ball falls into it's intended pocket effortlessly. Followed right by the cue ball.
Shock falls across all your faces. Jake has never lost a game of pool. Ever.
Jake sets the cue stick down, and rounds the table. Standing toe-to-toe with you, he feeds you a delicious smirk.
"Darlin', I ain't gonna make you kiss me if you don't want to. Furthermore, I only want your kiss if its of your own volition." He tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear.
Your eyes lock with his and the world stops. What a fucking gentleman.
Fisting the front of his shirt, you yank him down to your mouth. Jake relaxes into the kiss immediately and allows his hands to slide around your waist.
Jake takes control, changing the direction and deepening the kiss. Your hands move from his shirt to the nap of his neck, fingers knotting in his hair. His hair that’s gotten just a bit long.
Jake pulls back just a hair, his lips a breath away from yours. “Damn,” he mumbles, again.
“My own volition, huh?”
“I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” he winks. “A gentleman who is dying to kiss you again.”
You guide his lips back to yours.
“Kiss me, Hangman.”
master list.
a/n: been a little while since i wrote for ole jakey. i hope y'all like it!
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roosterforme · 3 months
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Sneak Peek | Hangman x Reader
Summary: You spent so much time around the boys, they counted you as one of them. You were firmly stuck in the friend zone with Jake, so it was time to move on with a guy who could see past your flight suits. It's not immediately obvious to either of you that cranky Jake is actually jealous Jake.
Warnings: Fluff, language, mentioned smut, 18+
Length: 6000 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Happy birthday @beyondthesefourwalls!
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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"It's my turn to buy a round," you said, standing up from the table and grabbing the empty beer bottles before turning toward Jimmy and Penny at the bar.
"Thanks, Rodeo," Jake murmured, and you turned back briefly and smiled softly at him. His gaze slid down your body the same way it would with any other woman, the only difference was that he had started to notice just how many other guys were regularly checking you out, too. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that fact.
When you squeezed yourself between two stools at the bar to order four more beers, Bradley asked, "Who are you staring at, Hangman? Rodeo?"
Mickey laughed as Jake quickly shook his head and turned his attention back to his friends. "I just wanted to make sure she can manage carrying everything."
"I'm sure she's fine," Bradley replied with a laugh of his own. "I got a little nervous for a second there."
"Why?" Jake asked, his eyes slowly drifting back to you, watching as you slipped your credit card into the back pocket of your jeans. 
"Because first of all," Bradley said as he smashed open a peanut on the table, "Rodeo is practically one of the guys. And second," he added, popping the peanut into his mouth and chewing, "it would be weird if you start looking at her like you do all the other random pieces of ass you take home with you. Even though she is cute."
"She's cute, for sure," Mickey piped in. "But once you've seen a girl throw up in the parking lot after a drunken karaoke night, the appeal kind of wears off."
Jake smiled as you headed back toward the table, because the drunken karaoke night was when he got to drive you home and carry you to your bed while you repeatedly tried to tell him you could walk by yourself. 
"Oh, you know who else is cute?" Bradley asked just as you set four new beers on the table. "That redhead with the huge tits at the dartboard."
"Damn," Mickey groaned, and now you were looking in that direction, too. But Jake kept his eyes on you. 
"Do we have to talk about this in front of Rodeo?" he asked, sipping his fresh beer and starting to wish Bradley and Mickey would wander off. "In front of a lady?"
Bradley snorted so hard, Jake was surprised his beer didn't shoot out of his nose. "A lady?" he asked as he looked at you and cuffed you on the arm. "Nice try, Hangman, but Rodeo doesn't count."
"Well, you don't count either," you told him, and Bradley tapped the neck of his bottle to yours. "And neither do the two of you." Your gaze met Mickey's before settling on Jake. "You know I don't mind when you guys talk about girls. I get it. You're all hot."
But your knee was rubbing against Jake's thigh at the tiny table, and for a brief flash, he thought maybe he wanted to count in your mind as a guy you could be into.
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It was a strange dynamic, working with mostly a bunch of men all the time. They saw you in a flight suit once, and they never looked at you like you were a female ever again. And that was fine. It made your job easier in a lot of ways. There were fewer distractions, and you knew for a fact that they liked you for your personality. They wouldn't invite you to hang out all the time if they didn't.
But on nights like this, it did sting a little bit to watch the three of them tripping over themselves to go talk to the redhead who was clearly eating up the attention. You were essentially wearing the same outfit she was: jeans and a black shirt. And you thought you looked cute. And what exactly was wrong with your boobs? You looked down at your body and kind of shrugged. You didn't get it. 
Natasha handed you a pool cue, and you sank a shot. You made up the excuse that you wanted to play so the guys wouldn't feel bad about abandoning you to go talk to girls, but Jake had been hesitant at first, so you shoved him along. That was a mistake, because you were reminded of how solid and muscular he was under his soft shirt. 
The first few times you glanced his way, he was already looking back at you. If he were any other guy, you would have just asked him out by now, but you were so firmly in the friend zone with all of them that it was embarrassing. The rejection would be laughable. 
So you put your head down and focused on the game and the chit chat around you. But after a while you got curious, and when you looked up again, Bradley and Mickey were walking back toward the table where your empty beer bottle sat. Jake had won. The redhead was running her fingernails through his hair. It was all over for the night. 
You weren't jealous. You weren't. You just didn't understand why it couldn't be you. As you sank the eight ball, you said, "I'm beat. I'm going to head home."
"Me too. Want a lift?" Mickey asked, and you nodded, not sparing a single glance back at Jake. 
Maybe you were the problem. Maybe you weren't sexy. You spent most of Sunday scrutinizing yourself in your bedroom mirror and going through all of your clothing. There really wasn't much of it since your closet was lined with uniforms and flight suits. And when you looked in the mirror, it wasn't like you could even tell what the problem was. You were just you, but it was starting to feel like you'd been playing around in this male-dominated world for so long, you were just blending in there. 
"Fuck it," you muttered reaching for your phone. There was a text from Bradley detailing the pricing for tickets to a Padres game, which you desperately wanted to go to. It sounded fun. Then you realized the beer drinking and peanut eating would simply be moved to a different venue in which the guys would be looking at all the other women around you. Suddenly it didn't sound so fun.
There were also a handful of texts from Jake. He must have kicked his guest out early if he was asking how you were doing this morning. You sent back a short message before finding the app on your screen that had been dormant since you got stationed in San Diego last summer. Tinder. It was right there. 
Nervously, you entered your login information, terrified that you'd just end up with a bunch of guys you saw on base as your best options. They would undoubtedly take one look at you and have the same reaction your male friends did. But you spent the rest of the day thinking about it. You looked, but you didn't sample. You found some guys who were surprisingly not in the Navy, but you didn't swipe. And maybe part of the reason you didn't was because Jake kept texting you all day long.
Monday was your tipping point. You were all ready to fly in your boots and flight suit when you ended up surrounded by the guys in the hangar. "We getting Padres tickets, Rodeo?" Bradley asked. "Day drinking at Petco Park?"
You nodded at him. "Sounds fun."
Then Mickey cut in as Jake walked over. "Hey, Hangman. How was our little redheaded friend?" he asked with a smirk, but Jake's expression stayed the same as his eyes met yours. 
"Wouldn't know."
"Oof," Bradley said with a goading laugh. "What, you kicked her out without even talking to her afterwards?"
You swallowed and looked down at your boots as you thought about the guys on the dating app. Maybe a little change of scenery wouldn't hurt anything after all.
-----------------------------
"Can you just knock it the fuck off?" Jake snapped. "I didn't even spend the night with her." He watched you put your helmet on as you walked toward your jet. "And I don't like talking about this shit around Rodeo anymore."
"Alright," Bradley replied with a tiny smirk. "No need to get mad about it."
When Jake took to the air, you were all business, as usual. You and he flew well together, like you always did. But back on the ground at lunchtime, you barely spared a glance in his direction in the cafeteria. Instead, you were completely absorbed in something on your phone as you picked at your food.
"What's wrong?" he eventually asked, and you looked up at him like you were surprised he was still there. 
"Nothing," you murmured, taking a drink before returning your attention to your phone. "Just working on something."
"On what?" he asked, voice almost as snippy as it had been earlier. He found he didn't like it when your attention wasn't focused on him, which was absolutely infuriating, because it's not like the two of you were anything. 
"My Tinder profile," you replied smoothly as you licked your lips, and Jake thought he must have misheard. Since when were you looking for a guy?
"Tinder?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed. "I'm just trying to sort out which photo to use, because I like this one where I'm in my flight suit, but guys don't really tend to go for that sort of thing."
You turned your phone to show him, and Jake swallowed hard. It was a photo he had taken a few months ago. He remembered that day. Your sunglasses were hooked on the top of your suit, and your helmet was tucked under your arm, and your smile was infectious. 
"I like that one," he told you softly. 
But you just rolled your eyes and groaned. "But you don't count, now do you?"
Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Why are you on Tinder anyway?"
Now you laughed as you set your phone down. "Why do you think?"
He didn't want to think about it, even though he knew why. You were looking to hookup with someone. Or maybe it was even worse. Maybe you were looking for an actual boyfriend. Someone to spend all your time with. You'd be at the Hard Deck after work less frequently. You'd be going to the Padres game with some faceless idiot, and he'd be the one carrying you home after you overdid it at karaoke night. Worse yet, you could have your pick of any guy on that app who caught your eye, but Jake knew for a fact none of them were good enough for you. 
"Rodeo," he grunted, unsure how to voice his concerns. You just tapped your screen a few times and then smiled at him as his heart clenched a little bit.
"I went with the photo from Reuben's wedding instead."
Jake ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't even have to ask. He also knew that photo well too. His voice was soft as he said, "Blue dress. Holding a martini. Hand on your hip." He didn't like the idea of a bunch of guys he didn't even know looking at you wearing something so pretty.
"That's the one! And now my bio is live on the app," you said as you tapped your screen one last time. "Wish me luck."
You stood with your tray and Jake told himself he would do no such thing.
---------------------------
"That photo must have done the trick," you mumbled the following day in the rec room on base as Natasha helped you sort through your matches.
"I'm sure it did," she replied in awe. "You look hot in it."
You wanted to believe her, but it didn't even matter right now, because the two of you were staring at a photo of a hot guy who had sent you a message. You gasped. "Is this for real?"
"Looks like it," she replied. "If you don't fuck him, I will. Happily."
"What are the two of you over here whispering about?" You looked up into Jake's smiling eyes and gave him a grin of your own.
"Rodeo is getting all the Tinder hotties," Natasha replied, and suddenly Jake's smile vanished. "Let me know if he sends you a dick pic."
"He better fucking not!" Jake growled as he tried to reach for your phone. "Show me what this asshole looks like so I know who to pound to dust if he sends you one." You rolled your eyes and held up your phone so he could see. "His name is Tony? And he's a dentist?"
"What's wrong with that?" you asked quickly.
Jake crossed his arms over his chest. "If you have to ask, then you don't want to know."
You scoffed and opened your messages. "You're being dramatic. And I don't get on you about who you decide to hook up with."
"So you're just trying to hook up with this asshole?" he asked, his lips curling in disgust.
Honestly, you weren't really sure. But he sounded nice in the messages he sent. "Would it really be so bad if I was?"
Jake scrutinized your face like he was in pain, and you had the craziest thought flash through your mind that perhaps he was jealous. But then the pinched lines on his forehead vanished, and his voice was completely calm as he said, "You do what you want, Rodeo. But don't come crying to me about it later."
"Fine," you told him as he walked away. And that's what spurred you to reply to Tony's message with a more flirtatious one of your own. You were allowed to hook up with him. You were allowed to go out on a date. Maybe you'd even eventually request a dick pic. Jake wasn't in charge of your Tinder profile or dating agenda.
A few short exchanges back and forth was all it took, and suddenly you had plans for Saturday night that didn't involve hanging with the guys at the Hard Deck for once. Tony was going to take you out to dinner, and you were already excited.
----------------------
"Where the hell is Rodeo?" Bradley asked as he returned to the table with three bottles of beer instead of four. "She's usually here by seven."
Jake rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "She's not coming. She's on a date with some smug looking asshole named Tony."
"Good for her," Mickey piped up, earning a glare from Jake. "I hope she gets laid. You wanna grab Javy and play pool?"
With a groan, Jake dragged himself out of his seat and forced his body through the motions. He hit the cue ball with perfect precision, but meanwhile, all he could think about was some other guy's hands all over your body while he shoved his tongue down your throat. "Fuck," he growled, trying to fight the urge to text you. If you wanted him, you knew how to reach him. 
Between shots, he glanced around the bar at all the other women, but he couldn't find a single one as pretty as you. He spent the rest of his night barely conversing with his friends while he hoped that your date was a complete flop. And when he left to head home alone, he caved and texted you to make sure you got back to your place safely. 
That was over twelve hours ago. Jake still hadn't heard back from you. It was damn near noon on Sunday, and he was left assuming that you spent the night with Tinder Tony. When you finally texted him back, the response made him toss his phone aside. 
Sorry, just seeing this now. Yes, I made it home safely. See you tomorrow.
Monday was worse. You were glued to your phone at every opportunity you got, and Jake could tell by the little smile on your face that you must be talking to that asshole. 
"Rodeo, how was your hot date?" Bradley asked, bumping your helmet with his while he winked at Jake. 
"Pretty good," you replied with a little laugh. 
"You get laid?" Mickey asked obnoxiously, and you rolled your eyes before glancing at Jake. He was dying to know the answer to the question, but also terrified to hear it. 
"Wouldn't you like to know," you replied, returning your attention to your phone. "Put it this way... I'm going out with him again for dinner on Wednesday."
"Who goes to dinner on a Wednesday?" Jake scoffed. "That's when we usually go to the bar! And what did you and Tinder Tommy even talk about the whole time? Dentures? Teeth?"
"No," you snapped at him. "He told me how pretty he thinks I am, and that he was nervous to meet me in person. And his name is Tony, not Tommy. So don't be rude when we stop by the bar after dinner on Wednesday."
"Can't wait to meet him," Jake grumbled, highly disappointed that your date had been even somewhat successful. And he still wasn't sure if you'd gone home with Tony. Or worse... if he'd gone home with you. 
Jake had crashed in your bed with you once a few months ago when you hosted game night. Mickey, Nat and Bradley all passed out in your living room, so you'd taken him by the hand to your bed. Every time he thought about it, he could practically feel the warmth of your body next to his and your foot hooked over his ankle. The idea of someone else there engaging in pillowtalk or fucking you just right was way too much for him to handle, because he was starting to feel like he wanted to be that person.
------------------------
Okay, so Tony was a little boring. A lot boring, actually. And on Wednesday night at dinner, he actually did mention dentures, and you could practically hear Jake scoffing from the Hard Deck. But Tony was hot and nice and he paid for dinner. Could you really hope for more than that?
"So, you mentioned stopping at a Navy bar?" he asked as you walked back to his car. "I keep forgetting you're even in the Navy. It just doesn't seem like you."
Maybe you should have used the other photo for your dating profile since you'd had to remind him twice already that there were a lot of women in the military now. "Yeah. It's called the Hard Deck. I usually hang out there on Wednesdays, and I thought maybe my friends could meet you?"
"Sure," he replied, and he even played boring music on the way there. But when he walked you inside, he kissed your cheek, and that felt kind of nice until Jake was looking. You felt embarrassed and a little guilty when he scowled at you from the pool table, so you eased yourself away from Tony and took him by the hand instead. 
"Hey, guys," you said cautiously as you approached the pool table. "This is Tony." 
Jake's jaw was clenched tight as he reached out to shake hands with your date in a death grip, and you cringed as he said, "Nice to meet you, Tommy." 
And it all went downhill from there. You had to correct him three times, even though you were sure he knew Tony's name. And even the other guys didn't really seem to mesh well with Tony. Bradley looked scandalized when he told them he didn't like beer or playing pool, and Mickey tried to make a dentist joke that just didn't land. 
You wanted to crawl into your bed and not come back out for a week. You also kind of wanted to ask Jake what his problem was. Tony was a nice guy. His hand on your back felt nice, and his goodnight kiss at your front door was nice. There was even some tongue, and you didn't stop his roaming fingers. Maybe another date or two and you'd ask him to come in.
"Would you like to get dinner on Saturday night?" he asked as his lips grazed your neck. "At the Boathouse?"
You closed your eyes and leaned back, and the image of Jake took over. His lips were on your earlobe, and he was whispering your name as you led him to your room. His hands were settling on your hips and squeezing gently as you melted into his touch.
"What do you think?" Tony asked, and you were jarred back to reality by his voice.
You swallowed hard and nodded as you opened your door. "Saturday night sounds good," you said as you ducked inside. "See you then."
You couldn't have Jake. You just needed to get it through your head that he didn't want you like that.
------------------------------
Jake knew he was behaving poorly even as he was doing it. Tony looked annoyed by him, and you looked embarrassed, but he just kept calling him the wrong name and standing off to the side like a dick. He was actually the asshole. Not Tony. And he needed to apologize to you at work the next day. 
He found you in the hangar, pacing back and forth as you played with the strap on your helmet. When you turned, he started to say, "Hey, Rodeo, I'm really-"
"I need your help," you blurted out when you saw him heading your way. "I need you to come shopping with me tomorrow after work, because I wore my only two dresses already, and everything else in my closet is ridiculous. And Tony is taking me to the Boathouse on Saturday, so I can't just throw something together and call it a day."
Jake ground his back teeth together. The Boathouse was nice. As in, he could think of at least three people he knew who got engaged there. How much money did dentists make anyway? He was full blown jealous now. He knew that. But you'd asked him for help, so of course he was going to do whatever you wanted. Your eager eyes were enough to make him agree on the spot.
"Where are we going shopping?" he asked softly. 
You looked so relieved as you said, "The mall. I don't think it will take too long, and I can treat you to dinner as a thank you."
"No," he replied. "You don't owe me anything, Rodeo."
"Thanks, Jake," you whispered as you threw one arm around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. "I know I can trust you to tell me what looks good. Because you're a guy, and you know what guys like. I've been in such a rut, and I don't even know what looks nice on me anymore. But I trust your opinion."
He wrapped his arm around your waist and held you a little closer. If you trusted him, he wouldn't let you down. He never wanted to let you down. He would take you to the mall and tell you which outfits looked nice on you, even though he knew it would be all of them, and he would be cool about you dating Tony. "Sure, Rodeo. Anything you want."
When the time came, he was miserable. You seemed excited, bouncing on your feet in your jeans and sneakers as you collected dresses and cute little outfits to try on, but he knew none of this was really for him. You'd just be giving him a little sneak peak of what Tony would have his hands all over. 
"How about this one?" you asked, holding up a red mini dress that made Jake's mouth dry up. Then you moved it in front of your body and looked down. "It's probably too much for me."
He wanted to tell you that you couldn't pull it off, but he knew the fucking thing was made for you. "Try it on and see," he said softly, so you added it to your pile. Then he followed you like a puppy dog to the fitting room, holding half of the dresses for you to try on. When you passed the lingerie section, Jake had to watch you grab a few lacy items. "Have you slept with Tinder Tommy yet?" he snapped when you picked up a black bra and added it to your arms. 
You looked up at him with a soft pout. "Well, no. That's why I'm trying to buy some sexy stuff, you know? Just in case I want to take it there."
Jake had seen you in your bathing suit many, many times. You didn't need to be wearing anything made out of lace and silk to look sexy, but the sight of you in half of this shit would probably give Tony a damn heart attack. Then he realized as you led him along that he himself might not make it out of the fitting room alive.
"Just stand out here, okay?" you said softly, guiding him against the wall. He grunted in response and watched you line up everything you wanted to try on inside the fitting room before closing yourself inside. You kicked your shoes off, and then he watched you push your jeans down to your feet through the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. You stepped out of them, and his imagination started to supply the rest. 
You were completely naked now, he was sure of that fact, and you were only a few feet away from him, separated by a flimsy door. His head tipped back against the wall as his breathing grew a little deeper. Your toenails were painted bright green, and you were talking quietly to yourself as you stepped into a black dress and started to guide it up your legs. 
"This isn't too bad," you muttered, and a few seconds later you were unlatching the door and pulling it open with an apprehensive look on your face. Jake's jaw dropped open as you stepped right up to him and asked, "What do you think?"
"Rodeo," he grunted, fisting his hands at his sides to keep them from touching you as you spun slowly in front of him. "Looks good."
You frowned a little more. "I was hoping for better than good," you replied, twirling away from him and back into the fitting room.
Jake's body was thrumming with desire as he watched that black fabric pool at your feet under the door. "It was better than good, Rodeo," he said, nearly choking on the words as you stepped to the side and bent to pick it up. 
"I'll try the red one," you informed him, and he had to press his lips together, knowing what was coming next. This time it took you a little longer, and he watched your feet under the door as you turned in front of the mirror. "It's really short," you finally said as you opened the door again. 
"Jesus Christ," Jake moaned softly. The thing fit you like a damn glove. Every curve and soft dip of your body was right there, begging to be touched. His palms were sweaty as he wiped them on his jeans, and then you spun, ending up just inches away from him again. 
He couldn't speak, and maybe you took that as a bad sign. "It's too much," you said with a little laugh. "I know it's too much, but it was fun to try it on anyway. It made me feel sexy," you said with a little shrug, barely able to meet his eyes. "I think the black one might be better for dinner at the Boathouse? Or do you think this one?"
Jake snapped out of his daze and remembered why he was here, suddenly pissed that this little fashion show wasn't just for his own benefit. "Come on, Rodeo. Tinder Tommy? Really? You think he deserves this?" When you just kind of shrugged at him, he said, "Get the red one if you're just looking to get laid."
"Okay," you replied, your little pout back on your pretty lips. 
He pushed away from the wall until he was nearly touching you. Practically snarling, he said, "Are you just looking to get laid?"
"Maybe," you said softly, looking at his neck. "He's actually into me, so maybe. I don't know, Jake. It's been a long time since a guy chose me, you know?" He opened his mouth to tell you that any guy in the world would choose you when you said, "I have one more dress."
Then he had to stand there and watch the red fabric hit your feet before you guided the tiniest little green dress up your calves. He was jealous. He was so jealous. And the fact that he'd had a whole fucking year to ask you out instead of fucking wasting his time was crashing down on him right now. You were going to wear one of these dresses to the Boathouse tomorrow, and Tony was going to take it off you. He was going to fuck you, and then someday you'd probably get married. Jake would be at your wedding sitting between Mickey and Bradley and making himself sick over this whole thing. 
The door opened. You were stunning. You didn't even leave the fitting room doorway this time in that green dress that was hugging your tits and your waist and showing off so much leg that Jake thought he was going to black out. "I can tell by your face that it's not good," you said with a wince. "It's a little too low cut, so I couldn't imagine wearing it in front of Tony."
His voice came out low and rough as he said, "You're wearing it in front of me just fine."
"But I don't count, remember?" You closed and locked the door, and Jake was immediately leaning against it. Literally each dress was hotter than the one before it, and Jake didn't know how to articulate what he was feeling right now. How on earth did he end up so far in the friend zone that he couldn't claw his way out if he tried? What the fuck made Tinder Tony so special? Why were you looking around on the app anyway? He couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened, but you were never going to take him seriously, even if he knew he could be what you wanted.
The rustling of fabric and the sound of the zipper had him resting his forehead on the door. "Rodeo, Baby, you can't...buy one of these dresses. Not for Tony. Okay? Come on. He's not good enough for you."
"Oh." That was all you said. You just replied with one word, and Jake's blood was boiling. He wanted to dismantle the entire fitting room and take you back home and tell you that you could do a hell of a lot better than some lame ass dentist who didn't like beer or playing pool. But you'd just muttered one word, and he was dying to know if he could ever stand a chance at making you happy. 
"Rodeo?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You unlocked the door and he stepped back a few inches so you could open it, expecting to see you in your jeans once again with the dress of your choosing in your hands. "Oh, fuck," he groaned, his heart hammering in his chest. "Absolutely not!"
Jake pushed you back further into the fitting room and managed to wrench his broad shoulders through the doorway before kicking the door closed. You were biting your lip, your eyes wide as his hands came to rest on your lace covered hips. 
"Jake," you whispered as he shook his head at the sight of you in a lacy black bra and tiny underwear. 
"What the hell are you thinking?" he groaned, fingers digging gently into your warm body as he listened to the little sound you made. "You're killing me here." Your hands came up to his wrists before you slid them up along his arms, and Jake took a step closer until his jeans were brushing against your bare belly. He would need to be removed from the mall in a body bag at this rate. 
Then you whispered, "I like you. And maybe there's a chance that you like me, too? And maybe that's part of the reason I asked you to come here with me."
Jake swallowed hard as he leaned in, dizzy from the way you smelled so sweet and felt so perfect in his hands. "Dump him. Dump Tony." You whimpered at his words as he slid one hand down further, teasing the lace covering your ass at the same time his other hand went up to tug at the side of the bra. "Because this? This should be for me."
"Jake." Your voice was a needy whine as you scraped your fingernails along his shoulders and chest, trying to pull him closer. But he shook his head as he pushed you back harder against the wall, lips hovering over yours as you whispered his name.
He knew what he wanted. He'd known for a while, really, but now he was ready to take it. "I want to kiss you. But if I do, I'm not going to be able to go back, okay?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I won't go back to being Rodeo and Hangman, just friends. I will not do that. Not with you. Not when you count more than anyone else."
Your lips crashed against his, and Jake sighed in relief as he held you in his arms the way he'd been dying to for so long. The lingerie and all the little dresses were only for him. Your kisses and your smile and your fingers in his hair were for him, not Tony. He ran his hands down to your ass as you giggled and nipped at his lips. 
"Pick a dress, Baby," he muttered between kisses. "And we'll get the lingerie, too."
"Okay," you replied with a smile before you took his bottom lip between yours, making him moan. 
"Tomorrow night, I will take you out, and you can show me this little getup again if you want to."
You looked up at him with the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. "I want to."
---------------------------
You nudged Bradley with your elbow. "Hey, she's cute," you said, nodding toward the brunette across the aisle. "You guys should go talk to her." He and Mickey both leaned forward to look without any subtlety whatsoever, and you laughed. 
"Maybe at the end of the inning," Bradley replied, manspreading so much in his seat at the Padres game that he kept bumping your leg and nudging your shoulder. But he was grinning, and you could already tell that he and Mickey were about to turn it into a competition to see who could get her phone number first. 
But there was one key player missing from their game now, and you smiled as you saw Jake apologetically climbing over everyone else in your row before plopping down into the seat next to you and kissing your cheek with a smile. "The line was long as hell for your favorite beer," he said as he handed it to you. "Did I miss anything?"
You shook your head as Bradley said, "You're just in time to watch the real show, Hangman. Rodeo, I want you to time how long it takes before I get her number." 
But you weren't really listening as Bradley and Mickey started to argue, and neither was Jake as he kissed your cheek again. You didn't feel like you were simply blending in, and you didn't feel like you were just one of the guys anymore. You were grinning and sipping your beer as Jake's lips met your ear and he asked, "Are you wearing that black set right now?"
"I'll let you find out later.
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Happy birthday, Alli! I hope you enjoyed the blonde one! Big thanks to @mak-32 @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for all your help!
@blahehblah
@sotalife
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@daggerspare-standingby
@je-suis-prest-rachel
@callsign-joyride
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Bradley(texting in bed at 2am): Hey, how do you think lizards can hear things if they don't have ears?...Wait, DO they have ears? Hangman(texting back): I'm literally lying right next to you, why are you texting me?
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I like Bradley, Bob and Jake pretty equally, but I forget that not everyone does 🥴
So I’m going to update my taglist.
Please let me know for whom/when you’d like to be tagged (just Bradley, just Bob, just Jake, all 3, etc.) or if you want to be removed completely (no hard feelings).
Also, if you’re not on my taglist and want to be added, let me know!
@its-the-pilot
@dizzybee03
@sweetwhispersofchaos
@shanimallina87
@blindedbythelightt
@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth
@lexixstewart
@phoenix-rising-starbird-one
@mrsrobertfloyd5
@charmedkim
@k-k0129
@bellaireland1981
@hookslove1592
@amiets2
@nero4te
@eli2447
@atarmychick007
@vixenobrian
@86laura11
@hisredheadedgoddess28
@dempy
@angelbabyyy99
@buckysteveloki-me
@djs8891
@mizzzpink
@daggerspare-standingby
@mrsevans90
@littlezee80
@emma8895eb
@jessicab1991
@devil-angel-winchester
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military-newsboys · 19 hours
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Mav: You’re cute when you’re worried about me. Ice: Then I must be cute 24/7. Mav: You are.
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honkytonk-hangman · 3 months
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All This Love
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
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Summary: “Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound. “Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.
Warnings: not much in this one, unplanned pregnancy, some light smut, 18+ only!! <3
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Jake feels his pulse jump once, then twice as he walks through his front door. He’d already known you were here, not just because of your car parked out front, but because you’d barely left his company since he’d gotten the news. Still, the sound of you moving around his kitchen, and the smell of something heavenly wafting toward him makes his heart leap just a little in a way that is honestly unfamiliar to him.
Jake Hangman Seresin is not a ‘relationship’ guy. He hasn’t exactly been a one-night-stand guy either these past few years, but certainly he isn’t known for his commitment. Partly he could blame this on his schedule, his various and frequent deployments, moves and busyness, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that taking an endless string of women home was taking a toll on him.
Quietly, Jake hoped he’d meet someone, have a constant in his life to come home to, maybe have a few little mini-Jake’s running around too, but it also wasn’t really something he was actively seeking out. He knew being with him meant a lot of lonely nights, and he’d internalised the attitude that most women were not up for that.
And then he met you.
You’d laughed sweetly like you’d thought he was just kidding when he’d flirted with you, told him outright you’d expecting him to cancel on your first date, and then rambled about anything and everything for the next three hours as he happily listened.
You weren’t really his normal ‘type’, you weren’t overly affectionate with him off the bat, making your intentions known, you weren’t tall or bleached blonde or anything he was used to from the women who showed an interest in him, though that wasn’t to say he didn’t think you weren’t beautiful. You were a little awkward, and dorky and you’d told him you thought he was funny, which wasn’t really one of the things most of the women he dated tended to point out. Needless to say, Jake had quickly found it very easy, very natural to adore you.
He’d gotten three and a half months with you before his orders came in. 
The two of you had grown close in that time, but you hadn’t really addressed or discussed what you were. He hadn’t really felt the need, or the pressure like he had in the past. He’d realised over the past few days that this might’ve been down to the fact that he hadn’t even really considered any other options besides the two of you eventually becoming ‘exclusive’. If Jake is completely honest, he’s been off the market since our first date.
Not until the imminent date of his deployment had he begun to take note of his rising anxiety, the complete opposite to the way he usually felt after informing a casual fling that he’d be going. With them, he didn’t expect more, he didn’t want to give them more either, but with you… Jake hasn’t been able to stop thinking about how much he’ll be able to contact you while he’s gone, if you’ll make time for him, even if you’ll send him those care packages so many of the guys he knows often received while on the carrier…
The idea that you saw his upcoming deployment as the official end of whatever this is you have going on haunted him, and Jake was determined to make clear that when he returned in fourteen months time, he still wanted to see you.
He toes off his boots as best he can with the large bouquet in the crook of his elbow, before padding down the hall toward where the delicious smell is coming from, finding you buzzing around his kitchen in a manner that forces him to stop dead in his tracks to appreciate the sight.
This is what Jake has been wanting, but it's not until this very moment he realises just how much. It isn’t even about you cooking for him, no, he just craves the domesticity of coming home to somebody who looks up from what they’re doing with an expression like his arrival is the new best part of their day.
“Jake! I didn’t hear you come in!” you say with a smile and a laugh. That wasn’t exactly unusual for you. You didn’t often hear many things, considering you were hard of hearing. You weren’t completely deaf, in quiet rooms when he was facing you, you could hear him enough, helped by lip reading, or if he spoke directly into your ear. However, it was still significant enough that Jake had downloaded an ASL learning app, partly to communicate better with you, but also so that he could see your overjoyed surprise whenever he correctly signed something very simple to you.
“These are for you,” he steps closer, holding out the large bouquet of marigolds and roses he’d stopped for on the way home, making sure his mouth isn’t at all obscured by them as he does. He hadn’t skimped when he’d bought them, requesting the biggest package the florist offered and paying double what he’d ever paid before for flowers. It was worth it though, especially when once you’ve processed what he’s said, your face lights up all over again and you let out a soft little gasp as you move to meet him.
“They’re beautiful!” you croon as you bring the flowers to your nose. Jake had only ever bought flowers for his mother, and for a few girls around Valentine’s Day. They were always roses. He’d never bothered to ask what their preferred flower of choice was. With you, though, you had inadvertently told him on your first date while lost in a story about a failed garden you’d tried growing and how you adored copper marigolds and peach roses, but that no man had ever bought either for you, including your last boyfriend who’d seemed to think flowers were lame and unnecessary. He’d filed that information away, but curses himself for not using it any sooner as you smile widely back up at him, and push the flowers aside so that you can wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him sweetly.
“Thank you! You didn’t have to!” you say in between pecks to his lips, and Jake wraps the arm still holding the bouquet around your back, in the hopes that maybe you’ll stay pushed up against him just a little longer. You do, giggling softly as you continue to deliver soft little kisses to his lips, Jake dutifully returning each one, becoming aware of his own laughter joining your own as he does.
You pull away to grin up at him, and Jake drops one last, final kiss to your lips before giving you a slight squeeze, his own smile growing as you stare up at him.
“Baby, the smoke alarm is going off,” he informs you, chortling when you jump away from him in surprise, and quickly return to the stove to remove the pan from the hob. Jake follows you, placing your flowers down on the counter, and moving over to where the alarm sits high on his wall, reaching up to tap the button in the centre that switches it off.
“Sorry! The good news though is that dinner isn’t ruined!” you tell him happily, turning back around to go digging through one of his other cupboards. You straighten again when you find a large pitcher, and he watches you mill about for a moment, filling it with water before moving to place the bouquet of flowers inside. He feels his chest swell with pride as you primp and preen the roses and marigolds, and pictures you two weeks from now, with more and more petals falling from the flowers with every passing day, but refusing to throw them away because they make you think of him. The swelling of pride begins to turn into a swell of dread, and Jake really, really wishes he wasn’t leaving you in the morning.
You turn back to him and smile.
“Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll finish this?” you suggest, and Jake immediately pouts.
“Why don’t I just stay here and help you plate up?” he says instead, making you frown playfully and shake your head.
“Jake, you need to shower!” you scold lightly.
“I showered on base,” he shrugs, and pushes away from his counter to capture your waist and draw you near again.
“Jake… just let me do this for you… you leave tomorrow…” it’s your turn to pout. Jake’s heart makes a good effort to leap out of his chest and into yours.
“Exactly. I leave tomorrow, so just let me stay with you as long as I can,” he poses, and you soften, resting your hands on his forearms.
“Jake…” you sigh, and bite your lip a little. “What’re you gonna do for the next fourteen months, huh?” you question playfully, shaking your head.
“Wish I was plating up dinner with you.” he answers immediately, then feels his cheeks heat up a little. Your gaze drops from his face, but you’re smiling softly, and rubbing your thumbs over his skin in a soothing manner.
“Okay,” you relent, before reaching up to cup his cheeks tenderly. “Okay.”
Jake leans into your touch, closing his eyes as he memorises the feeling of you holding him. You remain in pleasant quiet as the two of you go about preparing for dinner, Jake setting the table as you portion out the salad you’ve made.
Jake refrains from insisting you sit side by side as you eat, because he knows you’d struggle to hear him if you did, but after dinner, he does insist that the dishes can wait, convincing you to come up and shower with him instead.
You’ve barely stepped inside the glass cubicle when he’s pulling you closer, lips reaching out for yours and you giggle as you kiss him under the full stream of the shower head, laughing properly when he pulls back to spit a mouthful of water sideways out his mouth like a cartoon character. He grins at having made you laugh, but crowds you up against the wall almost instantly after, his smile pressed back against yours.
“M’gonna miss you.” he says right by your ear, before slipping his mouth down to your neck, and immediately sucking a small mark there. He knows your opinion on hickeys, so he’ll make sure the rest are somewhere you can hide them. You seem to squirm in his hold, your hands dropping from around his neck to press against his chest, his abdomen, though he knows you aren’t pushing him away, simply wishing to see his face.
“I’ll miss you, too.” you say after a moment, watching the water drop from his eyelashes, before you wrap your arms around him, pulling him near once again and pressing your chest up against his in a delightful manner.
“Promise you’ll come see me when I get shore leave?” He’s never asked this question before, and his heart immediately jumps into his throat. Usually he’d wait around for shore leave to go bar hopping, pick up a girl or two and show them a good time while he could. This time however, all Jake can think about is how best he can maximise all his spare moments for the next fourteen months to make sure they’re spent with you.
“I promise,” you say with another giggle, and it makes Jake pull back to look down at you. He’s not sure what he wants to say, if anything at all, but a beat passes where the two of you simply watch one another. Carefully your hand rises, skims along his cheek, but ultimately continues upwards where you smooth back some of the hair hanging down over his forehead.
“By my count we’ve got just under twelve hours,” you say then, and he can tell you’re trying not to sound so sad. It makes his stomach flop about.
“No time to waste, then, huh?” He leans in and murmurs against your lips.
Miraculously, you make it back to his bedroom somehow, shower water replaced with sweat now as you both work to make the most of the short time you have left together.
You let out a heavy breath of air as you adjust yourself once more, hands pressing against his taut abs, feeling the way the muscles move and tighten under your palms and fingers as you bounce in his lap. Your thighs are burning, but that's not going to be enough to stop you from chasing down another high. Jake’s hands at your hips take some of the initiative out of your control though, his grip firm and deliberate as he helps you move for him, forcing you up and damn-near slamming you back down again, his hips flexing in time to make sure he’s fucking you as deep as he can.
Your sounds of pleasure are muted against his lips, swallowed by him as he kisses you hungrily, one hand shooting up to clutch at the back of your neck when you briefly break apart. With one hand helping you move now, he begins tilting his hips more and more, his legs bent at the knee behind you, powering his thrusts and completely taking you apart. He lets you break away from his mouth, but doesn’t move the hand on your neck, and through half-shut eyes, you can see him watching you intently, his jaw clenched as he takes you in. He slows down.
“You look so pretty riding me,” Jake’s voice is deeper and more gravelly than normal, and his words are punctuated by tiny grunts of exertion that make you mewl. “Gonna miss the way you feel around me,” he goes on, using his hold on you to grind up into you with each slow thrust. You gasp when his hand on your thigh pulls a little, widening your legs around him and making you take him even more.
“Fuck! Jake…!” you cry out weakly, doing your best to keep your momentum, but with this new positioning, you barely have enough strength to lift yourself from him. Jake doesn't seem to mind, groaning in approval and suddenly sitting up, twisting your still connected hips to spin you beneath him now, his hand hiking your leg up over his shoulder as you go.
You gasp again, your own hands clutching his shoulders as he begins fucking you impossibly deep, picking up his pace again as he hovers above you, one hand now in the mattress beside your head.
“Take me so well, sweetheart,” he grunts out, closing the distance between you to press his lips back to yours. You chase him when he pulls away again, whining in disapproval, but his lips dont go too far, as he falls to his forearms and really begins to fuck you.
“Gotta give it to you so good you’ll be stuck on me, huh? Won’t think about anyone but me while I’m gone?” he goes on, and all you can do is nod.
“You gonna cum?” he asks a little more coherently, and you nod, because the way he’s driving into you nearly has you toppling over already. “Yeah? Go on, let me feel you, want you to cum around me, honey.”
His words alone are enough to push you off the edge, more so when you feel him join you, and you arch up into him, curl your hips against his own ragged thrusts, desperate to keep him from pulling out halfway through. He doesn’t seem to be planning to this time, and you mewl and moan in delight at the feeling of him filling you up, the feeling of him dripping out of you when he gives you a few last firm thrusts.
Jake pants above you, the hand by your head slipping down to caress your cheek as you both take a moment to come down. He kisses you, long and deep and nearly enough to get you going again. You wait patiently when he pads off to his bathroom to find you a cloth, and you barely notice yourself dozing off until you wake sometime later.
The bed is empty, though the bedside lamp has remained on, and you sit up properly, rubbing your eyes.
“Jake?” you call out, but you don't see him in the bedroom or bathroom. Frowning, you scoot out of his bed and grab one of his old squad shirts, slipping it on as you move out of his bedroom in search of him.
“Jake?” you call out again, trailing your hand along the wall as you step softly down the stairs to the first floor. It doesn’t help that you can’t hear him, but your worries are belayed the moment you turn around the corner and into the kitchen, and you’re greeted with his bare back as he stands at the sink. He’d pulled some sweatpants on, but they’re hanging low on his hips, enough for you to see the little dimples at the base of his back, and you itch you wrap your arms around him again.
You try to be as quiet as you can as you move up behind him, relishing in the small jump of surprise he does when you trail your hands over his skin and around his front, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades. You feel him chuckle, feel the deep reverberations through his chest as he does, before he’s pulling you by one arm around to his front instead, where your face now rests against his chest instead.
“I thought you’d fallen asleep.” he tells you, leaning down to absently press a kiss to your hair. You shrug, but peek over your shoulder to watch as he continues to wash dishes, moving with him when he has to move, loving the way he briefly wraps you up whenever he does so, as if he’s worried his twisting might scare you off.
“What are you doing?” you ask dumbly, even as he scrubs down the pan you’d used to cook dinner.
“I didn’t want you to have to wake up tomorrow and do the dishes.” He tells you quietly, like he was worried about admitting this to you, like it was something he should feel guilty about. You coo, and squeeze him a little tighter, just as another thought occurs to you. You’d meant to talk to him about it when he got home from work, but with all the messing around that had happened, you’d totally forgotten.
“Do you want me to drive you in tomorrow?” you ask, feeling the way he pauses. You look up at him after he stays quiet for another beat, and find him staring down at you oddly. Your eyes meeting seems to break him out of his reverie though, and he blinks rapidly a few times.
“You don’t mind? It’s an early start…” he tells you, trying to warn you off, but you see right through him. You can tell it means something to him, though you don’t know what, and a part of you wonders if he’d ever had a girlfriend drive him to base for a deployment before.
“I’m not going to see you for fourteen months, Jake, of course I don’t mind.” you say as if it's obvious. You watch him purse his lips, but smile softly.
“I’d like that.” he says at last, moving one arm to wrap around you permanently now, continuing his task one handed until you extract yourself from him to grab a drying cloth. He makes a sound you only feel briefly, but you shoot him an amused shake of your head and remind him that the faster the chore is done, the faster the two of you can go back to bed. He stops his complaining then, and when the sink is empty and the dishes all stacked away, he picks you up and carries you all the way upstairs again with your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping them there until you both fall asleep again.
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Jake can’t stop looking back over his shoulder at you as he stands with the rest of Dagger, getting ready to board. You’re right by the front of the crowd of family that has gathered to say goodbye, which doesn’t make it any easier. If you’d disappeared amongst the people, he could fool himself into thinking you weren’t there, but as it is, he can see you clearly, and it’s eating him up.
Even Rooster can tell, watching and following his gaze every time Jake longingly glances back at you, his brown eyes trailing to the beautiful girl in the front of the crowd, occasionally conversing with the people around her, but mostly just eying the group of aviators with a sad little smile.
“You should say goodbye.” Rooster tells him quietly, eyeing up the officers ahead of them and correctly guessing that they would be about to board. Jake swallows, and pushes his sunglasses up his nose.
“We’ve already said goodbye.” He doesn’t mean to sound so snappy or cold, but he really didn’t want to think about leaving you anymore than necessary. Beside him, Rooster shuffles and shrugs.
“Say goodbye again.”
Jake stays quiet for a moment, before he turns to look at his wingman, and then at the line ahead. Quickly shifting his bag and stuffing it into the other man’s hands, Rooster only nods at him before Jake’s body is moving, easily pushing past the junior officers who step out of his way quickly. He barely takes note of the saultes he receives, because his eyes are set only on you, the way you watch him with a frown, but even as he gets right up to you, and you open your mouth to speak, he keeps moving, cupping your jaw and pressing a series of kisses against your lips.
When he pulls back you frown is gone, replaced with a lightness he hasn't seen since before he’d told you he’d be leaving.
“Will you wait for me?” he asks breathlessly, aware now that the carrier had begun boarding, and he needed to get back.
“What?” you ask with a slight laugh. Jake only leans in to kiss you again, and from somewhere behind him, he can hear a few servicemen whistle. You’re still giggling when he pulls back, but he digs into his uniform pockets and brings out his keys, pressing them into your hands.
“Wait for me.” he says again, waiting until you nod your assent before looking away from you. Through the crowd, he can hear someone, Rooster calling him, an edge of warning in his voice.
“I’ve got to go.” he tells you dumbly, and kisses you again.
“I know. Go! I’ll be here when you get back!” you assure him with a laugh, kissing him back but pushing him away at the same time. Jake grins upon hearing the words, and steps in to kiss you again, before finally dragging his body forcefully away from yours, and back to his team.
Phoenix is giving him a funny look that he ignores as he takes his bag back from Rooster with a silent nod of thanks. He receives a pat on the shoulder from the other man, who looks down his sunglasses at him thoughtfully. Jake sees his eyes trail off and he knows Rooster is looking at you again. He pats Jake’s shoulder once more, his lips tipping up teasingly.
“She’s cute,” Rooster tells him. Jake eyes him as he replaces his sunglasses.
“Yeah,” he says. “She is.”
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“Hey babygirl, it’s good to see you,” Jake can’t help his wide grin even as he stares at your somewhat blank, reserved expression. Something in his chest wobbles as you eventually give him a weak smile, and he nervously adjusts his camera.
“Hi, Jake.” You say. It only makes his stomach wobble too.
“Is the software working okay? I have captions?” he asks, double checking the program on his end to make sure for the fourth time that everyone is tip top. You nod.
“Yeah, yeah, everything is working fine. I even put my hearing aids in… I’ve missed your voice,” you tell him.
Your words go a small way to alleviate his anxiety, but it’s been four months since he’s communicated with you via more than just email, and he can’t help but listen to the voices in his head from long before he met you, telling him that you don’t want to wait for him any longer.
“I’m honoured, you hate wearing those,” he says with a stiff laugh. You smile a little wider, but don’t seem to relax.
“Too much noise,” you agree. A quiet beat passes between you and Jake steels himself for what he knows is to come. You both speak at exactly the same time.
“Listen, baby, I’m really sorry I haven’t been able to do this sooner, but–”
“–I’m pregnant.”
Jake freezes, and so do you.
“Oh, thank god,” he hears himself say outloud, his entire body sagging as the weight of what he’d thought you were about to say leaves his body entirely.
“That’s… that’s not what I was expecting…” all stress seems to have left your body too, and for the first time since your call connected, you too appear to be completely at ease. “I thought you were going to break up with me…” you tell him, making Jake start.
“I thought you were going to break up with me!” Jake exclaims, before quickly quientening his voice. “Christ you scared me,” he tells you, letting out a sigh of relief.
Your face is a mixture of amusement and bashfulness.
“You’re more scared of me breaking up with you, than me being pregnant?” you ask, and Jake finds himself nodding immediately.
“I wouldn’t say scared, per se…”
“Your own words, Jake,” you remind him, and he chuckles, but shrugs. You both pause for a moment as you take in the wealth of new information and relationship security you now bask in. Jake jumps then, and leans in closer to his screen.
“How far along are you?” he asks, unsure of what really to ask in this situation, it’s honestly not one he’d ever been in before, but he’s proud to discover his mind immediately has calibrated for it.
“I’m going to the doctor in the morning, but I’m guessing around four months,” you tell him with a slightly wry smile. Jake laughs.
“I should hope so,” Jake chortles, before turning serious again when he sees you only laugh weakly.
“How are you feeling, baby?” he asks, then quickly, for your sake, adds; “For the record, I want whatever you want, I just want it with you.”
Your face travels through several emotions, but you at last give him a watery little smile.
“I really thought you’d break up with me, I haven’t even thought about anything else,” you admit, and Jake feels something else in his chest wobble.
“Honey, unless you’re planning on breaking my heart right now, I’m not breaking up with you any time soon… or ever, if I’m honest… I’m sorry that’s not been clearer…” he tells you, feeling a slight lump in his throat at the very thought.
You were it for him, he thinks, he can’t imagine not coming home to you. He’d even considered throwing his medical on purpose the other day, just so he could wait for your email he knew was likely to come. Jake has never even considered that before, not even for family. A knock on the door makes his face fall, and he turns to glare at the ensign who pokes their head in.
“Liuetenant Seresin, sir, Captain Mitchell requires you on deck.”
Jake sighs, but nods grimly.
“Tell him I’ll be there in a moment.”
“Sir!”
Jake looks back at you, already smiling sadly.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I need to go,” he says tiredly. He’d wished he got more time to talk with you, but especially about this.
“It’s okay Jake, we’ll be fine,” you tell him. Jake can’t stop the quirk of his lips as he stares at you.
“‘We’ huh?” he asks teasingly, feeling something like excitement, or perhaps pure, sheer joy race through his veins. You cock your head but your arm moves, he can’t see where exactly, but he suspects your hand now rests against your belly.
“Yeah. We.”
Jake swallows thickly, and nods, unable to fight the smile that pulls at his lips.
“Okay, baby, okay,” he hears another knocking on his door and huffs. “Send me everything you can, I don’t know when I’ll get to call you again, okay? Send me everything.”
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Jake walks quietly alongside Dagger as they return to their ready room, listening to them discussing possible ‘new’ hand signs for each other to signal readiness for the manuevour they’d been working on not even twenty minutes ago, prior to landing. He checks back into the conversation long enough to watch the proposed sign that Payback suggests, and immediately begins shaking his head.
“That’s ‘math’ in sign language,” Jake tells him, earning a look from Phoenix.
“Since when do you know ASL?” she asks, not fully sounding accusatory, but certainly not shying away from that tone either. Jake looks up at her and opens his mouth, but it’s Bob who gets there before him.
“He’s been practising with me,” Bob informs her, making Phoenix only more curious. She turns back to Jake expectantly. Jake shifts on his feet as the group comes to a halt, clearly also wanting to know what this is about, and for a brief moment, he considers telling them to mind their damn business.
That thought passes though, his spite warmed into a quiet kind of glee at the mere thought of you, his chest tingling slightly under the picture he has tucked into his flight suit.
“My girlfriend is deaf,” he says at last with a small shrug. Phoenix stays eying him for a second, even more curiosity filling her gaze, but after a moment she relents. He knows she’ll have questions later, but for now seems to be content not to make him answer them in front of everyone.
“Huh.” she says, and with that the squad continues moving.
Eventually, Phoenix and Halo peel off to the women’s locker rooms, the boys moving on to theirs, Payback, Coyote, Fanboy and Bob making straight for the showers. Jake can’t shower yet, though, he has precious cargo to return to safety, so moves straight for his locker, peeling it and carefully removing the photograph from his breast. Using the wad of blu-tac he’d acquired a few weeks back, he gingerly sticks the image backup in its home when he’s not flying, making sure not to get any fingerprints on it as he does.
“That was a good exercise,” Rooster’s voice makes Jake almost jump out of his skin, and he turns to look over his shoulder, quickly shooting the other man a nod.
“Yeah,” he replies simply, his lips thinning into a line as Rooster steps closer, opening his own locker but inevitably glancing over at Jake’s in the process. Jake tenses up as he feels Bradshaw pause, but after only a few agonising seconds, Rooster is moving again.
“Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound.
“Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.
Jake reaches up and rapps the ultrasound fondly.
“Twenty-three weeks. She’s supposed to be the size of a peach, but hell if I know what I’m looking at,” Jake shrugs and rolls his eyes, even letting loose a small smile when Rooster leans over to get a closer look. After a moment he too pulls a face and they meet eyes.
“Yeah, looks like topography to me,” Rooster shrugs as well. Jake looks back to the scan thoughtfully.
“Oh. Yeah. There’s a mountain range…. Small valley…” Jake trails off as the showers seem to shut off in near-unisen. 
He quickly shoots Rooster a steely-eyed stare, which thankfully the other man seems to understand the meaning of, because all too soon their conversation comes to an end and Jake shuts his locker door protectively.
Their veil of secrecy is shattered however, when Javy, dressed in only his towel, waltzes right up to Jake, opens his locker door again, places a kiss to the ultrasound, then carries right on as Jake quickly closes it behind him. Rooster shoots him a look, and before the others can make an appearance, Jake explains himself.
“Only Javy knows,” he grinds out, but can’t find himself too annoyed. Javy had immediately taken to his Uncle role, sending little gift packages to Jake's house for you to discover.
The ‘My Uncle Is Single’ onesie was particularly cute.
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Jake doesn’t even really have to push his way to the front of the line at the docks. Not only had Dagger made a path for him, but they were actively hauling at the collars of younger sailors, and from behind him he can hear various calls of ‘make way!’ and when one sailor protests a little too loudly, Phoenix saying ‘Hangman’s about to meet his kid for the first time, do you really want to get in the way of that?’. He makes a note to thank them later, but then he sees you, and he sees his baby, and all thoughts fly out of his brain.
He rushes up to you, gathering you both in one tight hug before you even seem to realise it’s him. But then he hears you laughing waterly, and he pulls his face back enough to plant a long, passionate kiss to your lips.
“Hey baby, hi!” he gushes cupping your cheek in his hand, before quickly extracting himself only a little, and focusing his attention on the bundle of excited squeals in your arms.
“Hi Princess, c’mere, I’ve been waiting so long to meet you!” Jake continues to talk before you can even get a word in edgewise. You laugh again, and shift the baby on your hip enough and Jake steps in again quickly relieving you of the weight. His daughter is immediately enraptured by the pins and shinies on his uniform, and she babbles talkatively up at him. Jake had shared his worries with you that she wouldn’t know him, recognise him, but all that is quickly abated when she stuffs a fist in her mouth and all but collapses against his chest.
His whole body fills with a warmth like he’s never known and he looks over at you.
“I think it’s too loud for her,” you say with a laugh, cuddling in closer to the other side of his chest. Jake looks between the two of you lovingly, adjusting his girl so he can show off some of the ASL he’d managed to learn in the last fourteen months.
Sorry, he signs carefully. Just – little – longer. Team – want – meet – you – both.
Your face lights up in recognition and your eyes get a little mistier. So – good – now! You sign back slowly for him, just as he feels several presences come to an anxious stop behind him.
“Bob helped,” he says, getsuring over at Bob, who steps forward with a short little wave.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ma’am,” he tells you, before his eyes shift to the baby in Jake’s arms. He tips his hat again at the girl who, as Jake turns, seems to be quietly inspecting the newcomers, drooling all over her tiny little hand. Bob does another little wave, more goofy this time, and she giggles, but turns her face inward briefly to Jake’s chest even more.
Jake uses his free arm to pull you in a little, and nods at his team.
“Baby, this is Dagger, that’s Bob,” he briefly pauses to show you Bob’s sign name, before he goes on to point out the others. “Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy, Payback, and this is–” he gets cut off as Javy pushes his way to the front of the crowd.
“Uncle Javy!” he announces, balling you up in a tight hug. You laugh and nod.
“Thank you for all the gifts for her! She loves them!” you tell him, which only makes him smile wider, and puff his chest out some as he rounds on Jake and his daughter.
“Can I hold her now?” he asks, with his arms already out. Jake’s features drop into a friendly glare.
“No.” he says firmly, tugging the baby closer. He’s rewarded when she begins to fuss a little at all the new attention, and Jake quickly begins shushing and cooing at her, only for her to relax and fall quiet, her tiny fists now clutching desperately into his jacket.
“That’s right baby, daddy’s not gonna let Uncle Javy take you away from him.” He runs his hand comfortingly up and down her little back, snuggling her closer.
Javy rolls his eyes, but relents, pointing at Jake and you.
“Ya’ll got one week, then I’m crashing,” he tells you. Jake shakes his head, but you nod, looking up at him. You sign ‘babysitter?’ at him, then getsure at Dagger in general, and after he puts two and two together, he’s shaking his head.
“No. No way,” he says. You nod again and gesture back to the group.
“No,” he says.
“Yes.” you reply, Bob nodding quickly along with you. Jake rolls his eyes up at the sky, then back down at you. He looks over at where Rooster, Phoenix, Fanboy and Payback have all started cooing and making faces at his girl, making her giggle and kick her feet, and lets out a sigh.
“Fine. Maybe.”
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