#Jake Seresin fan fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

topguncortez · 5 months

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Are You With Me? | Ch I

| Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey

series masterlist | next part

synopsis: Jake gets a terrifying call in the middle of the night that has him rushing to his ex-wife's side. Y/N is put in the middle of two men who she cared about. The Seresins get shocking news.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: emergency rooms, medical inaccuracies, mentions of blood, childhood cancer, fighting, divorce, mentions of cheating

“What happened?” Jake asked, out of breath as he ran down the corridor. He had just fallen asleep when he got a frantic call from his ex wife. He could hardly make out the words she was saying to him, but he managed to understand that she was taking their daughter to the ER. It was like a hot knife in Jake’s chest as he sprinted out of bed and broke nearly all traffic laws to get to the hospital.

Y/N’s was shaking like a leaf in the wind, as she took a step away from the large window where she had been watching doctors and nurses tend to her child, “I-I don’t know,” Her voice was thick with tears, her eyes and nose red. The only thing she wore was a nightgown and a jacket over it, “Ella, sh-she has had this cough and it hasn’t gone away and she started complaining about not being able to breathe and then. . .” Y/N sucked in a deep breath, trying to slow her heart rate down, “There was so much blood.”

“Shh, shh,” Jake pulled her into his chest, cradling the back of her head. A loud sob racked through her body, and Jake held her tighter, “Let’s go sit down, okay? I’ll get you some tea and a snack.”

Y/N nodded her head, and let Jake guide her through the hospital to the waiting room. Her body felt heavy as she collapsed in the chair. The only image flashing through her mind was of her daughter standing in the doorway of her room with blood all over her shirt. Y/N closed her eyes, rubbing them with the heel of her hand. Ella had been complaining about her chest hurting and this persistent cough that would not go away. Y/N just thought it was her being sick with the common cold.

“Here,” Jake said, holding a foam cup and a granola bar out to his ex-wife. Y/N gingerly took the items and Jake sat down in the chair next to her. The tension stretched over them as they both sat in silence, Y/N nibbling on the granola bar and Jake fiddling with his fingers. The last time they had sat this close to one another was when they were in couples therapy. Most of the time, if they had to sit near each other, they would put one of the kids in the middle.

“I’m sorry I called you so early,” Y/N mumbled, breaking the silence.

Jake looked at her, a small frown on his face, “I’d rather you did than wait until morning. I know you hate doctors.”

“Had to get over that this past year.”

A year. It had been a whole year since Jake signed those papers, and Y/N had walked out of his life. It had been a year of utter misery for the both of them, but their pride got in the way of being able to admit that. It had been a year of awkward conversations while dropping the kids off at each other’s houses. A year of avoiding each other at Dagger family events. A year of tears and aching hearts when the other mentioned going out on a date. A year of suffering because of one mistake.

“Well, Ella is my daughter,” Jake said, sitting up in his seat, “And I am going to be here for my daughter, no matter what time it is.”

They both agreed in the divorce to keep things as civil as they possibly could for the sake of the children. Jake didn’t fight Y/N on custody, only asking that he gets them on the weekends. Y/N still allowed Jake to come over as often as he wanted to, and he was at the house most nights. Jake hated going home to that small on-base house that was nothing compared to the beautiful craftsman they had bought together after Eli was born. Y/N let Jake stay for dinner, and help with bath time, before getting the kids to bed. It was always awkward when he’d leave for the night; both of them wanting to ask the other if they would stay.

“I know,” Y/N swallowed, “I just. . . I don’t know.”

The silence stretched back over them. The lobby of the emergency room was surprisingly busy for an early Tuesday morning. Drunkards were waiting to get fluids to sober up. A couple who looked like they were about to have a baby sat in the corner, the man coaxing his wife through breathing exercises. A sad looking elderly man with a deep frown etched on his face. A mother holding her child to her chest, soothing his hiccups. Y/N longed to be able to be back with Ella, but the doctors had ushered her out of the room when Ella quit breathing.

Y/N was lost in her thoughts when a voice called out to her, “Y/N.”

“Miles,” She stood up from her chair, “W-what’s going on? Is Ella alright?”

“You’re my daughter’s doctor?” Jake said, eyeing Miles up and down.

Y/N shot a glare in Jake’s direction. Now was not the time to get in a pissing match.

“I am,” Miles said, brushing off Jake’s comment, “I was working a round in the ER when she came in. I’m also lead pediatric surgeon.”

Rolling his eyes, Jake muttered, “Of course you are.”

“Anyway,” Miles continued, “We ran some tests on Ella, a simple blood test and then an X-Ray,” He paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. Y/N’s hand reached out for Jake’s on instinct, squeezing it, “Her blood test came back showing signs of abnormal cell growth, and there’s a small mass on the right lower lobe of her lung.”

It was as if Miles had slugged Y/N in the chest. She sat down, afraid her knees were going to give out if she were still standing. The words Miles and Jake were sharing might as well have been a world away, as none of it was making sense to her.

“How did this happen?” Y/N asked, her voice felt foreign to her as she looked up at the men, “How did I miss this?”

“We don’t really know,” Miles said softly, “Sometimes, the body just creates abnormal cells. Lung cancer in kids looks totally different than lung cancer in adults. It’s not your fault.”

Y/N nodded her head and looked down at her hands, “So what do we do?”

“We’re gonna discharge her for today, and send you home with some medicine to help suppress the cough. Then we’re gonna get you set up with an oncology appointment, run some more tests and we’ll go from there.”

“Can we see her?” Jake asked.

“Of course,” Miles nodded his head, and told them Ella’s room number.

Jake sat down next to Y/N, letting out a deep sigh. This was the last thing he thought was going to happen when Y/N called him at 2:30 in the morning. The only person Jake knew to have lung cancer was his grandfather, and it was a bitter end to his life. Hospitals, and oxygen masks, and not being able to do anything but lay in a bed and wait for death to come. It wasn’t what he imagined for his little girl. Not in this lifetime.

“You never told me what happened between you and Miles?” Jake asked, looking over at Y/N.

She let out a sigh, stretching her arms out and flexing her fingers, “Just didn’t work out.”

Truth was, Y/N was so irrevocably in love with Jake, that being with Miles was only going to cause more harm than good. Miles had been the perfect guy; he was respectful, kind, he cared about Y/N’s kids and treated them with respect as well. He also loved her, flaws and all. And that was the issue. Miles loved Y/N more than Y/N could ever love him. It broke her heart to have to break up with him, but she couldn’t let him continue to think that something was going to happen.

Jake hummed, “I thought you two were going to get-”

“Can we not talk about my love life right now?” Y/N snapped, looking at her ex, “Now is not the time.”

“I’m sorry,” Jake apologized, “She’s going to be okay, ya know?” Y/N’s eyes filled with unshed tears, “She’s strong and healthy, just like you.”

Y/N nodded her head, “I know. It’s just not what I want for her. I hate this!”

Jake wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulder and brought her into him. He hated seeing her cry and in the past year, he had seen her shed a lot of tears. Over the years, Y/N got better at stuffing her emotions down. It was hard raising kids with a husband who flew jets at supersonic speed into dangerous territories. She had to become both mentally and physically strong to withstand the months of Jake being gone and her left to raise the kids. Now, those emotions came crumbling down.

“Let’s go back and see her, okay?” Jake asked, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s temple. She wordlessly nodded her head and Jake stood up, helping her to her feet.

They rode the elevator in silence up to the pediatric floor where Ella was. When the doors opened they were met with bright colored green and blue walls with various animals painted on them. Children were just starting to wake up on the floor, as nurses and aids went into their rooms with colorful cups of medicine. Some parents had spent the night, sleeping on a cot next to their child’s bed, other parents were just arriving with cups of coffee and tired looks on their faces. Y/N was surprised at how warm the unit felt. That was the one thing she hated about hospitals. They always felt so cold and lonely. But the pediatric ward was filled with bright smiles, and laughter.

Jake knocked on the door to Ella’s room, which had a painted unicorn on it, “Knock, knock,” He said, slowly opening the door.

“Daddy!” Ella exclaimed. Jake rushed over to the bed, and hugged his little girl tightly. He wasn’t sure if it was because of her illness, but she felt smaller in his arms than she had ever felt, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too Ella Bella,” Jake said softly, and placed a kiss on her temple, “How are you feeling?” He helped her lay back in bed, and covered her with a blanket. Y/N silently walked to the otherside of Ella’s bed as Jake sat down on the small mattress.

“I’m tired,” Ella yawned, “Nurse Becky gave me strawberry jell-o and Auntie Val saw me when I had my pictures done!”

“She did?” Y/N asked, trying her best to sound happy. She made a mental note to contact her best friend and tell her how thankful she was for her visit to Ella. If there was one thing about Val Machado, it was that she was going to care of her friends’ kids. Val even said once the Seresin kids were basically her kids and vice versa.

“Yes! She gave me a unicorn sticker! Like the one on the door!” Ella held up the sticker that was on her hospital gown.

“That’s beautiful baby,” Jake said, his green eyes full of love as he brushed his hand over her cheek.

“Daddy,” Ella said softly, “Can I go home now?”

“Yes Elles,” Jake nodded his head, “We’re gonna go home. You, me, and Mommy.”

A weird feeling went through Y/N’s chest when Jake said they were all going home. She tried her best to ignore it, knowing that Jake was only saying words to comfort their daughter. When a nurse came in, Y/N and Jake excused themselves to go sign some paperwork and set up the next doctor’s appointment. They sat on opposite sides of a round table, Jake filling out insurance forms while Y/N sighed Ella’s discharge forms.

“You shouldn’t have told her that you were coming home,” Y/N muttered.

Jake furrowed his eyebrows, “Why? I am coming home with you guys.”

“Jake,” Y/N sighed, setting the pen down.

“No,” Jake answered, “I am not just gonna go back to base and pretend like everything is fine and dandy. Cause it’s not fine and dandy, Y/N. Our child is sick.”

“I know,” Y/N’s voice became thick with tears, “I know this, Jake.”

“Then don’t push me away,” Jake sounded defeated, “Not now. Not when we need each other the most.”

Y/N let out a shaky sigh, “I just don’t know if I can forgive you.”

“You don’t have to,” Jake said, getting up from his chair and going over to kneel in front of his wife. He grabebd her hands in his, running his thumbs over the back of them, “You don’t have to forgive me now or ever. But you need someone to rely on and be there just as much as I need someone to rely on and be there. This isn’t going to be easy. . . but we are the only ones who will understand what we are going through. We need each other right now.”

Y/N bit her lip and nodded her head, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Jake asked, his eyes full of hope and longing.

“Okay,” Y/N said again, sniffling, “Let’s go take our baby home.”

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ohtobeleah · 11 months

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Roses // BF x JS x Reader

Summary: Robert Floyd can’t seem to find it in himself to hurt you the way you crave, the way you truly desire. Confiding in his more experienced, more outgoing & confidence wingman is something he’s always done. This time when Bob asks Jake Hangman Seresin for advice, he gets a hell of a lot more than he bargained for.

Warning: Bob Floyd x F!reader Jake Seresin x F!reader. Smut. MMF Threesome. Cuckold Bob? Power imbalance. Male receiving oral. Female receiving oral.

Word Count: 6.6k

Author Note: Happy Saturday Folks, please enjoy this porn without plot one shot of two of our favourite flyboys:

"Fuck—“ The delightlful sound of Bob’s near pronographic moans were something you would never get tired of hearing. The way his hands fell softly onto your hips to help you ride his throbbing length was a touch as gentle as an angels. Bob always felt good, oh so good—He was truly blessed. From the sting that always made your heart stop whenever he’d first slip in, to the way his tip would nuzzle against your sponge like cervix, to the way his shaft would throb against your velvet walls with every pleasure filled thrust.

“Baby—“ The term of endearment escaped your mouth with a sigh as you dragged one of his hands up your body, softly wrapping one of Bob's slightly calloused hand around your own neck and squeezing it for him. Bob couldn't contain the whimper he let out as you eyes hooded at the sight as his mouth remained open, a drawn out groan of absolute pleasure rumbled from deep inside his chest.

“Please, make me cum baby please.” You begged as you threw your head back and whimpered to the heavens above. Your other hand dipped down to swirl around your sensitive bundle of nerves as you picked up the speed, the gentle slapping of Bob’s balls hitting the curve of your ass echoed through the bedroom the two of you shared more often than not. Robert Floyds humble abode was closer to the Hard Deck, his favorite watering hole and your place of employment.

The second you let go of Bob’s hand that you’d placed around your throat, Bob dropped it as fast as he could, he let it fall to the soft curve of your hip after stopping shortly to touch the hardened bud of your sensitive nipple. Bob’s baby blue eyes trained hard on your tits as you bounced and rolled your hips above him. A goddess amongst mere mortal men.

“Ahhh—Bob, baby m’cumming! Oh fuck m’cumming I’m cumming—ooohhh—“ Your nails, long and manicured scratched at Bob’s chest as you came hard around his length, leaving red raw claw marks in their wake as you clenched around Bob’s shaft. Your pussy throbbed as you saw stars and black dots behind your eyes. Your thighs trembled on either side of Bob as he thrust his cock deeper inside you, chasing his own high after making sure you were well looked after. Forever the gentleman was Lieutenant Robert Floyd.

“Shit—shit Y/n, baby quick, I'm gonna cum—“ Bob groaned as you rolled off from straddling your broad boyfriend's hips to laying on your back with a wicked giggle. You bit your bottom lip to help hold back to lustful and ever so sinful chuckle that threatened to escape from the inner part of your soul as Bob mounted your chest—one leg thrown over you as he pumped his cock right over in face. “Ahhhh—“ He sighed as he unloaded his hot spurts of cum over your fucked out face, watching it cover you from your forehead to your chin, your tongue did its best to chase whatever he gave you.

Bob didn’t stay on top of you for very long, even if you adored the feeling of the weight of his body on top of you. It was as if he was unsure if he was hurting you—that would be Bob’s biggest fear. He settled back down onto his back with a sigh as he watched you quickly sauntered over into the en-suite. The sound of the shower turning on quickly filled the silence that lingered after you disappeared from his sight.

“Can I join?” He mumbled as he got off the bed, padding towards the bathroom to see you washing your face under the warm stream of the shower head. Suds from your face wash worked to wash away the load Bob had just plastered your face with. It mixed in with the notes of mint and cooling cucumber.

“I think you can squeeze in.” You jokingly replied as Bob stepped under the stream of warm water, watching as you washed away the suds to reveal your freshly cleaned face. He wrapped his arms around you tight before he dipped his head to connect his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. Bob hummed against your supple lips when he felt your hands dip to his ass.

“You been working out?” Bob had recently started hitting the gym a little more frequently with Hangman and Rooster. He was a cardio guy, but in the past few weeks he'd managed to bulk up just a little. Put on a few pounds that made you insanely feral. Bob Flyod looked good a couple of pounds heavier.

“You know I have.” Bob smirked, he picked you up to wrap your legs around his waist. Gently pressing you against the cool tiled wall. “I’ve seen you watching from the treadmill.”

“S’good view.” You couldn't hold back the small giggled that escaped before you once again pressing your lips against his with need and want. Your tongues danced together memorising each other's mouths before Bob put you down.

“Let's get out of here—wanna taste of what dessert has to offer.”

“What does that mean?” You asked as you bit your bottom lip—Bob’s hand came down to caress your lower back as he led you back to the bed. Soaking wet. He watched you with lustful eyes as you sat down before you quickly spread your legs. With intent, Bob dropped to his knees beside the bed—his hands slowly spreading your thighs further apart. He squeezed at your supple skin, decorated nicely with stripes Bob loved to delicately and ever so gently litter with kisses.

He’s never left a mark.

“Bob—“ You breathed out heavily as Bob licked a gentle strip up your fucked out pussy, so sweet and slick. His eyes never left yours as he lapped away at the sensitive bundle of nerves you loved to play with so much. Your clit was your favourite body part. Its only purpose in your life was to bring you pleasure and pleasure you craved. “Bob—“

“You okay?” Bob stopped momentarily to ask, watching as you dropped from your elbows to your back. In the middle of pure ecstasy your hands shot up to grip the strands of light brown hair that had grown out exponentially since you’d first started dating.

“Yes yes! Just keep going—feels so fucking good.” You sighed as you rolled your hips. Feeling Bob's tongue against you yet again making you moan softly. “Don’t stop, Fuckk-“ Bob did as he was told, lapping away at your soaked pussy like he was starved, high of the taste of his girlfriend. Watching as you squirmed and moved around from each flick of his tongue. Part of you wished he’d stop you— part of you wished he’d make you stay still.

But you knew better than to wish—Bob would never be as dominant as you wanted him to be. It just wasn’t in his inherent nature. It went against everything that made Bob, Bob. He was a gentle and kind soul to the very core—a wallflower.

Settling into Bob’s side a little later on, you were now dressed and exhausted, you sighed deeply when your head fell against Bob’s exposed chest—listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I love you baby.” Bob kisses the top of your head.

“I love you more.” You cooed quietly as your eyes felt heavy. Tired from a massive shift at the Hard Deck that ended the sexcapades that had just wrapped with Robert Floyd. “Hey Hon?”

“Yeah?” Bob's voice was low in his chest as he absentmindedly played with your hair. His nimble fingers felt oh so amazing against your scalp. Calming, soothing and above all relaxing.

“How come you’re so........gentle with me?”

“That suddenly a bad thing?” Bob chuckled as he ran his fingers down your arm to trace your forearm. “I just—I couldn’t imagine being the reason behind your pain you know?” It made you feel genuinely safe and cared for, but deep down something was telling you to have this conversation now. If you didn’t now, you might not ever work up the courage to again.

“What if I told you I wanted you to hurt me?”

“What do you mean?” Bob yawned, of course he was listening, but Bob was tired himself. “You want me to hurt you?”

“Well—you see, you remember how I tried to get you to choke me? But as soon as I moved my hand you let go? Well I want you to do that, harder—and maybe on your own accord.” Bob could physically feel the heat of your cheek on his chest and you could most definitely hear his heart racing.

“You want me to ch—choke you?” There was clear hesitancy laced in Bob's questioning as his hand stilled from the gentle rhythm he had fallen into tracing unidentifiable objects into your forearm.

“And like, maybe pull my hair, slap me around a little bit, like when I’m moving around when you eat me out maybe, stop me? Pin me down and just I don’t know Bob—use me?” You could tell maybe this was all a little too much for Bob, he was such a gentle soul with the biggest of hearts and the kindest of eyes. It wasn’t in his nature to want to be dominant.

“I uh—“ Bob tried to formulate a sentence to respond with, he wanted to make you happy and if this was what would make you happy he wanted to do anything you desired of him. But he couldn’t find the words. “I—“

“You know what?” You cooed as you looked up through your lashes to where your Boyfriend's head was resting against your pillows. “Don’t even worry hon—“ You placed a butterfly-like kiss against Bob's clean shaven cheek with a small smile that made his heart ache. “Forget I ever said something—I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Bob replied with a low tone, his voice had gotten deeper as the night progressed. “Are you sure? maybe I could uh—try?”

“It’s totally fine—everything’s perfect just the way it is.” Again you tried not to make this bigger than it really was. Bob was a great guy. He was a great partner and an even better best friend. Not wanting to make the man you loved so much, that did so much for you, uncomfortable, you dismissed the subject that wasn’t all that important anyway. Why fix something that wasn’t broken? “It’s not who you are.”

Bob’s mind was plagued with the reality of your words after you’d fallen asleep in his arms in his warm and loving embrace that night. Your gentle snores filled the room as his mind wandered, ran rampant with thoughts. Maybe it wasn't who he was—

But Robert Floyd definitely knew someone that was.

***~***~***~***~***~

Bob woke up early the next morning, knowing it was his only chance to catch Jake without a chance of being interrupted. The pair had been an unlikely duo to rent a home in North Island. If you had first asked Bob what his opinion on Jake Seresin had been when they first met a few years ago he wouldn’t have had a good word to say about the overly confident aviator. Jake’s egomaniacal personality was something that seemed to curve out over the years—soon enough Jake was just Jake to the bunch of Daggers who’d settled permanently in North Island.

And before Bob really even knew what happened he’d signed a lease with Hangman and was a pretty big fan of his Texan take on Taco Tuesday.

“Mornin.” Bob grumbled as he sauntered into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Bob was most definitely not a morning person, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out. If he didn’t need to be up for work then Bob wasn’t getting up for nobody. Jake however, he had always been an early bird gets the worm kind of guy.

“Jesus!” Jake gasped as he choked on his toast, not exactly expecting the pair of you up for at least another four hours minimum. “The fuck are you doing up so early? Are you sick or something?”

“I needed a coffee.” Bob grumbled, he grabbed at the coffee cup with your face on it that said ‘Bob's Coffee Cup’ on it. A birthday present you thought was incredibly funny. “And some advice—but you can’t laugh at me Jake, I swear or else I’m never talking to you again.”

“What’s up?” Jake shut his laptop begrudgingly, already missing the home interior design inspo board on Pinterest. He and Bob were in the process of making their house a humble abode. And by him and Bob Jake meant himself. He was in the middle of redoing the older than some, sturdier than most home.

“Okay so Y/n said something last night and I don’t know what to do about it.” Bob knew he’d regret this the second the words were flying out of his mouth.

“What did she say?” Jake's face was puzzled, he hadn’t seen Bob so frazzled in a while. “Robert? what did she say?”

“She wants me to be uh—rougher? With her, and I can’t wrap my head around that concept for a second to even think about how I’d do that.” Jake frowned as he watched Bob wiz around the kitchen, collecting the necessary things for his coffee and cereal.

“I’m assuming you mean in bed because—?” Jake tried to make the situation he found himself in a little more light hearted. He was fine, really, but he could tell just by the rose colour creeping itself across Bob's neck that he was almost embarrassed.

“Yes Jake— of course she meant in bed what else would she mean?” Bob caught himself before Jake could legitimately answer that question. He saw the Cheshire- like grin creep across Jake's face before he went to speak. Bob shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “Actually, don't answer that.” He sighed as he sipped his coffee, warm, milky and caffeinated just how he liked it as he walked around to sit next to Jake who sat on the other side of the kitchen bench.

“So what’s the big deal? Slap her around a bit? She wants you, right? So what's stopping you?” Jake did see the big deal in all of this. He’d been with plenty of women who liked their intimacy a little of the rougher side. It wasn't that deep, not everything had to be some coded deeper meaning bullshit. Sex could be just that–sex. Kinks could be just that, kinks.

“I physically can’t do that.” Bob groaned at himself as he doubled over and placed his forehead against the kitchen countertop. “Like she tried to get me to choke her last night and I couldn’t, I bitched out and moved my hand.” Jake stifled a laugh as he sat back and tapped his friend on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort the worrying WSO.

“Bob—I can see you’re already over thinking this, look, being rough between the sheets doesn’t mean you respect or love her any less?”

“I don’t wanna hurt her though? I can’t fathom being the reason behind her pain.” Jake rolled his eyes at the overbearing sensitivity of his good friend and housemate.

“Jesus Bob it’s not that deep, you could throw her through your bedroom wall and that girl would beg for more—it’s Y/n we’re talking about right?” You and Jake Seresin had a pretty good relationship. He was actually the one who introduced you to Bob. He knew Bob had been reluctant to put his best foot forward when it came to talking to pretty girls who made killer cocktails, but when Jake saw the way you smiled at Bob like he hung all the stars in the night sky just for you—he knew he had to get his wingman moves out.

“Yeah but like what if I take it too far.” Bob countered. “What if she actually gets hurt? Doesn’t like what I’m doing?” Bob’s mind was racing a thousand miles an hour. This wasn't his style, the rough natured touch that is–but the worrying was. That was all Bob.

“That’s what safe words and actions are for—” Jake replied with a cheeky grin, this could be his chance, the moment he’d been waiting for. “Look, do you need me to show you?” Jake smirked as Bob sat up—shooting his housemate a concerned look. “Because I could show you a thing or two.” Jake's biggest regret in recent months had been not getting to see what more you had to offer under your work uniform before he ever so kindly offered to help Bob secure the love of his life.

“Are you saying you wanna have sex with my girlfriend!!?” Bob could barely believe he even had to ask, but he wasn't all that shocked if he were to be completely honest. This was Hangman he was talking to and Jake didn't really have a hell of a lot of hard boundaries he wouldn't cross just for the plot.

“For educational purposes yeah—“ Jake teased, he took another bite of his toast as he did so. “Look I don’t really care? Watch some rough porn or something for tips, but you brought this shit to me.”

“Gosh, you really are a dick of a friend aren't you.” Bob scoffed as he pushed himself off the stool he’d been perched on. “Don't need to play the part when you are the part.” Bob couldn't help but to roll his eyes as he sipped his coffee. It was still far too early in the morning for him.

“The fuck does that mean?” Jake asked with a frown evident on his face. He’d come a long way since he first came back to TopGun a few years ago. He had friends, roots even. He wasn't the same guy. “All I did was offer to help you out, Floyd.”

“You just asked to fuck my girlfriend Jake, how much more of a douchebag can you be!”

“I said for ‘educational purposes’!” Jake wasn't going to sit here and be reprimanded by Bob just for offering his sexual services. “Look pal–I’m not the one who’s scared to fucking choke her.” Jake laughed as he got off the stool. “Honestly Bob—just do what you want at this point, slap the girl, don’t slap the girl, either way Y/n’s still gonna love you. Maybe try doing something she wants you to do and see where things go? You can only fuck up so many times.” A silence fell over the two aviators as they stood in their shared kitchen. “But either way I couldnt give more of a fuck about your sex life and the goings on or not goings on that are inevitable associated.”

“Good pep talk Hangman.” Bob hissed. He knew bringing this up to Jake was going to be a bad idea. He should have listened to his gut instinct.

“Anytime.” Jake grinned as he started walking away. Laptop in hand. He had better things to be doing on his weekend off than consoling a slightly self conscious, meek, weapons system officer.

But Bob knew that he couldn’t do this with Jake's help. He didn’t know how to give you more of what you needed and as a result he swallowed his pride and took a deep breath in.

“Wait! Jake—“ Bob held the bridge of his nose as if he was holding back a nosebleed, exhaling deeply, that’s how much he hated the words that were about to leave his mouth. “Okay, okay, for educational purposes only alright? So help me god if you cross the line and hurt her in any way I’ll—“

“Relax Robert.” Jake smirked as he walked closer to where his friend stood with slumped and deflated shoulders before he placed a reassuring hand on Bob’s shoulder. “Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

“What, when you’re balls deep in my girlfriend? Yeah I’m sure I’ll be throwing thanks your way.”

”I meant when you actually feel comfortable giving her what she wants, but yeah you can do that too if you like.” Jake laughed as Bob whacked his chest. “Ow—!”

“That’s for being a smartass.” Bob decided on making breakfast before he went back to bed, avocado toast in hand he sauntered down the hall. Opening and closing his bedroom door quietly so as to not disturb you.

“Bob?” You mumbled at the sound of Bob bear feet padding along the carpet softly.

“Mornin’ baby—Sorry, did I wake you?” Bob asked as he leaned over your side of his bed to press a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“No no, I woke up a little while ago, it was kinda weird not having you next to me.” You admitted, most of the time if not all the time, you were the one waking Bob up.

“I made you breakfast.” Bob said as he sat on his side of the bed, crossing his legs before stealing a bite of the warm toast coated with smashed avocado before handing it over.

“Aww thanks you didn’t have to do that—“ You cooed as you sat up against the headboard. “Really baby, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to—“ Bob smiled. “Anyway, so you remember that conversation we had last night?” Bob sat picking at the small hairs on his chin. A nervous twitch he had that made your heart melt. He didn’t grow his facial hair out all too often, but that five o’clock shadow did something to you.

“Yeah, what about it?” It came out more of a mumble than anything else

“I talked to Jake—“ Immediately you felt your core temperature rise at the mere thought of Jaker seresin, Bob's friend and colleague, Bob's housemate, knowing anything about your sex life let alone your personal sexual fantasies.

“Bob!” You slapped at his chest, the brunt of your open palmed slap was softened by the cotton of his shirt. “How could you?”

“He’s one of my best friends! Y/n, you know I tell him everything.” Bob tried to defend his actions, you knew going into this that the Daggers were a close knit group of souls, all trauma bonded in more ways than one.

“Yeah but I thought maybe our sex life was off limits oh my gosh—“ But this, this was just a whole new level of broken boundaries.

“It usually is! I promise, I just—I needed advice about what you said you wanted me to do and Jakes always been the first person I go to for anything so it was only natural.” You never knew of a time where Bob and Jake weren’t close. You had been told of a time before you when the two couldn't have been more different from one another. But their dynamic had always reminded you of a big brother little brother-esk friendship.

“There’s absolutely nothing natural about Jake knowing I want you to choke me.” You scoffed. “This is why you made me breakfast, wasn't it?”

“If you think that’s not natural I think you’re gonna hate what I have to say next—“ Bob tried his best to laugh it off, but he knew deep down you weren't gonna go for it. Hell he hadnt gone for it at first.. “Jake said he—he said he’s um show me? How to uh—be rougher with you.”

“You’re kidding, Bob, What does that even mean!?”

“He’s gonna have sex with you and basically I’ll watch and take notes I guess.” You had to still be dreaming, this wasn’t actually a conversation you were having with your boyfriend right now was it? He didn't just say what he did. There was no possible way.

“Bob! NO! Oh my gosh no I’m not having sex with your best friend are you insane!?” You gasped as your eyebrows raised to new highs unseen on your forehead in shock. “You know what? I shouldn’t have said anything, you’re crazy.” You shook your head before getting out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Bob asked as he watched you walk towards the bedroom door. “Baby?”

“Away from you psycho, trying to get me to fuck Jake? As if that was even a thing that came up in a serious conversation!? You two are seriously two of the most codependent people I’ve ever—“ As you opened the bedroom door in your fit of anger, shaking your head in disbelief Jake was there to stop you. He was there to stop you from going any further than a foot or so out into the hallway.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Jake's hand wrapped itself tightly around your throat. The pressure was so intense the gasp you made, made Bob stand from the bed. He was immediately worried, maybe this was a bad idea after all. “We’ve nearly seen death together sweetheart, that brings people together in ways you couldn't begin to imagine.”

“Jake–” You tried to choke out, but the way Jake gripped your throat and stepped you back into Bob's bedroom with such ease had you seeing stars.

“Did you just say harder?” He smirked as he watched your eyes roll, he applied more pressure as he walked you back, slowly and with intention behind every step. “You’re too easy Y/n.” Jake pushed you back till you were landing on the mattress you shared with Bob with a gasp and a cough. “Like an open fucking book.”

“What the hell is going on!?” You hissed as you looked between the friends who you saw most nights hanging around the pool table and being the life of any party. “Bob, this is crazy.”

“You act like you don’t want him to learn?” Jake smirked, he was already enjoying this. “C’mon Y/n, let the guy learn from the best—“ His sweats already felt constricted at the mere thought of getting to touch you the way he’d always fantasised about.

“Are you implying you’re the best?” You paused as you sized Jake up. “That’s some pretentious shit if I’ve ever heard some.” Jake looked at Bob as if to ask for permission. Bob nodded slightly, he wanted to see where Jake was going with this. How far he’d take it. He watched with lustful eye as Jake grabbed your hair and pulled you roughly towards him. Having Harlow Kneel on the edge of the bed. ”Ow—!”

“Look—this is what’s gonna happen okay? Because unlike you two lazy asses I actually have plans today, so I’m gonna fuck you—give you exactly what you want and Bob’s gonna show you what he took from this little—educational training session after. Okay?” Jakes dominating demeanour had you dizzy. This couldn’t be fucking happening. scenarios like this only ever happened in fanfiction— Specifically those cliche fanfictions about the Naval Aviators you knew taking turns sharing the reader. Had you dived too deep one night trying to prove how many girls day dreamed about your boyfriend, Bob? Yes.

“O—okay.” You managed to whimper out, you couldn't have been more turned on right now even if you wanted to be.Regardless of how morally wrong and twisted this whole thing was, you wanted to be used and abused so bad. If this was the only way Bob was going to be able to satisfy your needs? Your wants? So be it.

“Good—“ Jake grinned as he let your hair go. “Now, if things get too rough, or you don’t like something I do? Say Roses. It’s the safe word.”

“Why Roses?” You asked meekly as your knees buckled under the heat.

“Because Bob’s as delicate as a rose bud that’s why we’re doing this.” Jake teased. As if having to watch Jake fuck you wasn’t bad enough. “Now strip.” His tone changed as Bob sat down on a chair against the wall. This felt a little weird—but he would do anything to please you. To give you everything you ever desired and then some.

Bob watched with hawk eyes as you stripped everything off your body. He watched as your hands pushed your pyjama shorts down your legs, he watched you pull Bob’s shirt up over your head—leaving you naked on the bed before him. Bob wanted to run his hands softly over your curves, wanted to tell you how much he adored you, he wanted to show you how much he loved you. But as he was thinking of all the things he wanted to do to his girlfriend? Jake already had his hands on your ass—pulling you closer.

“See the thing is Bob, don’t think that by being rough you love Y/n here any less.” Jake explained. “Y/n is a beautiful, smart, kind and compassionate girl don’t you agree?” He turned to Bob who looked as if he was sweating after running a couple of miles, his face was flushed a crimson red.

“Ye—yeah, she’s amazing.”

“She’s also a whore.” Jake snapped, slapping his hand harshly against your ass, making you squeal from the initial sting but soon you felt the warm print forming. “I mean look at her—she’s letting your best friend touch her? I mean it’s for educational purposes of course but still—such a little whore, and do you know what whore do Bob.”

“N—no?” He couldn't say yes.

“They suck dick when they’re told to, don’t they Y/n.” Jake asked as he pulled his shorts down, pulling his cock from his boxer briefs. Bob watched as Jake pumped himself a few times before pushing your head down. “Don’t they?” He asked again, watching as your mouth moved dangerously close to his tip.

“They do.” You looked at Bob for permission and he blinked slowly as he nodded, watching as you took Jake's first few inches in your mouth as you kept eye contact with Bob. Your Boyfriend who was now watching you suck another guy off.

“Shit—“ Bob palmed himself through his shorts. This was insanity, why was he so turned on? He shouldn't have been–but the sight of you taking Jake's length in your mouth sent him to the moon and back.

“Fuck—“ Jake groaned as you hollowed your cheeks. This was the hottest thing you’d ever done, the most scandalous thing you’d ever been a part of. Moaning around Jake's cock as you bobbed your head— taking more of Jake down your throat like it was your very mission in life to get him off to new heights.

“See Bob—look how she’s not only sucking my cock–” Jake sighed as you took more and more of him. “But look at the way she’s sticking her ass up for me, for us.” His hand slapping against your cheek—causing you to groan around his cock. Pulling away, leaving the trails of spit that connected your lips to the tip of his cock. “It’s pathetic really—you can see how much she desperately wants to be used in her eyes.”

“You think you could use me Bob?” You asked softly. Jake pulled you down to the floor by your hair. “Fuck—!” Jake made you crawl on your hands and knees towards where Bob sat.

“Yeah Robert, do you think you could make her do this?” Bob Watched as Jake pulled you up to just your knees before he worked to shoving his cock down your throat once more—your nose kissed the dark manscaped pubic hair. Jake kept you there as he listened to you gag before pulling you away. “Fuckk—So fucking good Y/n, huh?” Leaning down to slap your ass cheek harshly. Watching as you grinned and giggled. Biting your bottom lip as if to say you loved it.

“I dunno—can I try?” Bob pulled his shorts down as he stood, watching as you sat back on your heels to watch like a good girl. His boxer briefs came next— revealing Bobs hard and stiff as a rock cock that slapped up against his toned lower abdomen.

“Be my guest.” Jake said as he stood back and sat on the edge of the bed. Bob was gentle as he gripped your hair in his hand. “Harder Bob, it isn't rocket science.” Bob’s eyes locked onto yours and saw you begging him for more. Something inside him stung as he looked at you— he wanted to lean down and kiss you. But he knew what you wanted more. So he gripped your hair as tight as he could.

“Ahhhh—“ You hissed out, Bob panicked before he let go, this wasn't him, he couldn't do this.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby—“ It was an apology that wasn't needed, you were truly having the time of your life right now.

“Bob! No!” Jake groaned as he stood, sighing as he grabbed your hair and made you stand. Throwing you on the bed. Harshly.

“Jake! You're hurting her!” Bob yelled.

“Has she or has she not said the safe word?” Jake pointed out as he turned with a growl and a harsh glare Bob's way.

“That doesn’t matter Jake—“

“It does matter! There’s a fine line between pain and pleasure Bob and this little slut right here.” Jake walked over to you on the bed before he spread your legs as you laid still on your back. “Loves pain—tell him.”

“He’s right baby—I’m fine.” You moaned out at Jake's touch. “I’d say if I wasn’t—please just use me.” You begged your boyfriend with enough conviction that for a moment Bob actually believed you.

“Look at her begging Bob, how pathetic.” Jake leaned over you, his knees were now on the bed between your legs. “Right Y/n? Pathetic aren’t you?” Jake groaned as he spat in your face—shoving three of his fingers into your mouth as he slapped his tip against your throbbing pussy. So slick from the arousal that had pooled. A moaning mess as you looked at Bob.

“Watch and learn pretty boy, if I’m such a douche bag, I better live up to the title, huh?” Jake smirked as he shoved himself deep inside you, Bob watched your eyes roll back into your head as you squealed around Jake's fingers. “Fuckk—so tight!”

“Jake—“

“Get over here.” Jake groaned, thrusting himself in and out in and out of your slick and slippery pussy. “Now Bob!!” Bob moved closer as Jake removed his hand from your mouth and slapped your cheek.

“Ahhh fuck! Jake! Yes—!!” You screamed, sending a feeling through Bob he couldn’t explain. He’d never been jealous before, certainly not of Jake. But hearing his girlfriend scream out Jake's name flicked a switch inside him that would never flip back.

“Choke her.” Jake ordered, still fucking deep into your fucked out pussy— his tip kissing your cervix with every thrust he gave you.

“No,” Bob hissed, gritting his teeth. He had to restrain himself from giving into this.

“Bob! I said fucking choke her!!”

“Bob—baby please—“

“Flip her, need her on her knees for a second.” Bob ordered, Jake stopped his thrust and looked at Bob for a second and noticed a change in him. Something had been triggered. He’d done exactly what he’d set out to do.

Educate and teach.

Jake pulled out—pumping himself as you flipped over, ass in the air and ready to be pounded yet again. Jake didn’t waste any time before he slammed right back into your dripping pussy before he stuck his thumb into his mouth. Licking and sucking before softly pressing it against her puckering hole. That was a new sensation you hadnt yet dared explore. But it felt good, oh so fucking good.

“Yess! Jake! Jake please oh my god!!” You screamed as Bob slapped his cock against your face. Holy shit this was really happening.

“You want my cock baby?” Bob asked with a low rumble in his voice you didn't quiet recognised

“So bad Bob—please give me your cock, wanna taste it baby.” You begged before Bob took your head in his hands and placed his cock between your open lips—watching it disappear, more and more–slowly disappearing as you took him down your throat. Eyes watering.

“Now use her Bob, she’s your fuck toy—make her choke.” Jake groaned as he slapped against your ass yet again. “Fuck you’re so fucking tight Y/n.”

Bob thrusted his hips back and forth into your spit dripping mouth, using your mouth as his personal toy. Listening to you gag and groan. He’d never heard these noises coming from you before. He always let you do whatever you wanted. Not one to take charge.

“Fuckk—okay Jake.” Bob gritted his teeth. “Jake get out.”

“What!?”

“Consider class over, get the fuck out!” Bob hissed. Watching as Jake smirked and pulled out. Slapping your pussy harshly making you squeal around Bob’s cock. You tried pulling away but Bob kept you still. Just like you always wanted him to.

“My work here is done I guess, guess I’ll go jerk off somewhere else then.” He chuckled, collecting his pants before leaving the room.

“Now—what am I gonna do with you?” Bob asked, pulling you off his cock and flipping you onto your back. “You want me to be rough with you? Use you? Fine—have it your way baby.” Bob slammed himself inside you, he watched as you smiled, biting your bottom lip. Bob couldn’t help but lean over you, wrap his hand tightly around your neck as he thrusted his hips against yours. He sent his hard throbbing cock deeper into you with each movement.

Bob dipped his head as he tightened his grip, biting at your nipple harshly making you wince. You couldn’t breathe—it was everything you'd ever dreamed about and more, you loved it, every second of it.

“You are a little slut aren’t you?” Bob teased. “Why have I been treating you like a—well” Bob smiled. “Like a rose?” Removing his hand so you could answer.

“Im gonna fucking cum!” You cried out, reaching between the two of you to rub at your throbbing clit. “Bob!! Harder!!” You begged, feeling Bob slam himself inside you a little faster, a little harder. “YYEESS—!”

“Oh Y/n baby I’m gonna fucking cum!!” Bob groaned, feeling you clench and pulse around his shaft. Watching as you trembled, your high washed over you as intensely as ever. It was a sight Bob fell in love with—it was like no other orgasm he’d watched you have.

“Baby—baby, Y/n oh fuck yes! Yes—!” Bob moaned aloud as he felt his balls tighten, shaft twitching as he unloaded deep inside you. Filling you with his cum. Holding you close as your nails left red raw scratches down his slightly muscular back. Bob Fell on top of you with deep heavy pants. He kissed your neck, leaving purple marks in his wake—the first of many marks Bob Floyd would leave on you.

“Bob—did I really just fuck your best friend?” You asked in your daze.

“Yeah—but it’s okay. You know why?” Bob teased as he pushed himself onto his knees above his girl.

“Why?”

“Because now I get to punish you for being such a fucking whore.” Bob hissed as he manhandled your legs, pressing them up to your head. Spitting on your pussy that dripped with his cum. His fingers danced around your entrance before slipping inside—curling up against your velvet walls.

“Oohhh—Bob!” It was a sound Bob could never get tired of hearing. Your pleasure, your desire.

Bob pulled out to slap his hand against your sensitive bundle of nerves, watching as you tried to run as he held you still. Just like you wanted him to. Needed him to. Rubbing his thumb around your throbbing clit using his own load to do so with ease.

“Now remember baby—“ Bob smirked as he leaned down to kiss your clit, feeling you shutter from his touch. Pride rose within him because he could do this and still adore you, love you and respect you.

“Just say Roses.”

***~***~***~***~***~

#bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #top gun bob #bob floyd fic #bob x reader #bob floyd smut #Robert Bob floyd smut #top gun x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fan fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin smut

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disturbedbeautywrites · 1 year

Text

Cowboy Casanova

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader

Warnings: suggestive language, some swearing

The air in the bar was electric and thick with smoke; the speakers blaring footloose as you watched a big majority of people go to the dance floor. You were sat at the bar with your best friend, talking and catching up. Your head was thrown back in laughter, alcohol coursing through your veins.

“I’d like to buy these two ladies two shots of what they’re already drinking. Add it to my tab.” You heard an all too familiar voice come up to the bar beside you. The shit eating grin of Jake seresin met you as you turned your head, a mumbled swear leaving your lips. “I’d also like you guys to come and hangout with my buddies and I, if you guys are interested.” Damn it, you forgot the pull he had on you.

You took a deep breath, immediately saying no as your friend said yes. You caught a look of confusion flash across Jake’s face before he regained his composure. “Well, we’re right over there whenever you two make up your minds.” He tipped his hat before he turned and walked away.

Your friend looked at you incredulously, her mouth hanging open. “What the actual hell are you thinking? He’s fine as hell!” She looked at you as if you had two heads, waiting for your answer. She had you by the arm as she pulled you away from the bar.

You just shook your head and sighed, looking back at her. “Him and I have history. It’s.. complicated.” You didn’t want to admit that you fell for your on again off again friend with benefits, but it had happened. Then, he had left with the navy for almost a year, and you hadn’t heard from him since and you were a tad bit jaded about all of it. “He’s just bad news. Trust me on this.”

She just gave you a look, debating on asking before she just shook her head and accepted the answer. “Well alright then. But, I’m telling you right now he can’t keep his eyes off of you.” Your friend was now facing the opposite direction, her gaze directly on Jake and his friends before she saw you try and slap her playfully. She just laughed, winking at you before she walked off to the dance floor.

You let out a small sigh as you decided to turn around, your gaze immediately meeting Jake’s as he motioned you towards him, mouthing “come here.” You hesitated for a second before walking towards him, leaning against the wall beside him.

His bigger frame was soon in front of you, his arm placed against the wall above your head as he leaned in towards you. It was his favorite position to have you in, especially in busy places like this. “Well, hi darlin’.” The way he called that was enough to make your knees weak, your voice catching in your throat.

“You look good. The navy is treating you well.” You decided to skip the small talk and get into a rhythm of banter that you were more familiar with. You felt his green eyes staring into yours, your bottom lip pulling between your teeth before you said your next words. “I bet you have girls throwing themselves at you in San Diego.”

He just chuckled and smirked, a cocky glint in his eye. “I mean, I do. But, there’s something about this damn girl in Austin. She’s all I can ever fucking think about. No matter how long I’m gone.” His lips were close to your ear now, closing in on the sensitive skin right under your earlobe. It caused you to gasp, balling his shirt up in your fist as you let out a small squeak of pleasure. “And tonight she’s playing hard to get.”

You swallowed thickly, practically melting into his touch as he moved his free hand down to push your shirt up a bit. He moved his fingers to the exposed skin of your hip, drawing circles with his fingertips. “Y-you’re lying.” You managed to squeak out before he chuckled again, moving his lips back up to your ear.

“Sweetheart, if you haven’t noticed what you do to me yet, you’re blind.” His voice was husky and laced with lust, his lips moving to ghost over yours once, twice, three times. “You drive me absolutely insane.”

You let out a groan of frustration, standing on your tiptoes to let your lips meet his. “I want you all to myself. Especially tonight.” The words left your lips with a hint of desperation, Jake chuckling and smirking as he pulled away from you.

He reached up and took the cowboy hat off his head, setting it down on yours. “All you had to do was ask, baby girl.” Your eyes scanned over him as you heard the words he told you the first night he met you. You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy. Not that you ever had a problem with that. In fact, everytime you saw him you managed to steal his hat for that exact reason. “Now, get your friend home safe. Then we’ll meet up tomorrow. Keep the hat until then. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

You smiled as you readjusted the hat on your head, running your hands down his chest briefly as you decided to get him even more riled up. “I mean, I gotta abide by the hat rule now. The hat stays on during that, by the way.”

“Trust me, I 100% agree. That hat is staying on all night tomorrow.” He sent a wink your way before you felt his fingers on the waist band of your shorts, a piece of paper being slid between your underwear and your waist band. “Oh, and when you can’t stop thinking of me later, there’s my phone number.” You swore under your breath as he pressed his body against yours before he winked and backed away, leaving you sexually frustrated and aching for him.

Oh, you definitely would be using that phone number later.

#jake hangman fic #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #Jake seresin imagines #Jake seresin one shot #jake seresin fanfiction #Jake seresin fan fic #top gun maverick imagines #top gun imagines imagine #hangman imagines #hangman imagine #Jake hangman x reader #hangman x reader #hangman c you #Jake seresin x you

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an-unknown-writers-world · 1 year

Text

Birdstrike

Summary: Hangman comes home to his on-again-off-again partner after Coyote’s G-Lock and Phoenix and Bob’s bird strike induced punch out.

Warnings: Angsty AF(sorry), with a fluffy cheeeeeesy ending - singular use of y/n

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader

Characters: Mentions of Coyote, Phoenix, Bob, Rooster, and Maverick

Word Count: 1372

A/N: This is angsty with the cheesiest ending – sorry not sorry

“Jake,” You called out, hearing the door close, “Babe, is that you?”

“Yeah, doll. It’s me.” You could hear the defeat and exhaustion in his voice.

“I’m in the kitchen.”

He didn’t speak again, but you could tell by the heavy footsteps that he was headed toward you.

You weren’t expecting to see him tonight. Since his first round at Top Gun, you had been in an on-again-off-again relationship with Jake Seresin. The moment he stepped into The Hard Deck all those years ago, you knew it was all over for you. You fell in love with him. You weren’t delusional; he was a naval aviator- he wouldn’t be around long, but that wasn’t going to stop you from falling in love with him.

Jake would still visit a few times a year when he was on leave; he’d even asked you to come to his family’s ranch in Texas a few times. But you weren’t in any kind of serious relationship.

Strong hands wrapped around your waist as you stood in front of the kitchen sink. He kissed the top of your head before leaning to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Everything okay?” You asked, turning the kitchen sink off.

Jake was never this needy when he first came home. Well, not unless something horrible happened. Considering his job, it was always a possibility. But you also knew that there were many times that he couldn’t tell you what was going on.

“Just a long day,” He murmured. “And all I wanted when it was over was to see you.”

“Want me to order dinner, and you can tell me about it?” You turned in his arms to face him.

He nodded, “I think I’d like that.”

“Your usual?”

“Please.” He kissed your forehead. “I’m gonna go shower while we wait.”

You stretched up on your tiptoes and kissed him. His rough, calloused hands found their way under the hem of your shirt as he pulled you impossibly closer and deepened the kiss. That man could kiss you breathless in two seconds flat, and he enjoyed every moment of it. You broke the kiss only when the need for air became too much to ignore.

“Go shower,” You smirked. “If you don’t go now, dinner is never getting ordered.”

He laughed, kissing you chastely. “Yes, ma’am.”

########

You had agreed not to talk about the heaviness of the day until after you were both done eating and could devote all your attention to him. His phone had gone off a handful of times, all Dagger Squad members seeming to check in? It was hard to tell, but you started reading between the lines when Bradley texted you to ensure that Jake was with you and not home alone.

“Babe, I hate to ask this. But does your bad day have anything to do with the reason Bradley just texted me to make sure you weren’t alone?”

“Yes,” He let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know if I should be worried or impressed that he has your number.”

“All of Dagger Squad does.” You chuckled. “How do you think I keep track of you when you’re not here?”

“Valid point.” He turned and laid his back across the couch, his head on your lap.

“Talk to me, babe,” You ran your fingers through his hair, his eyes closed at the contact.

“I almost lost Coyote today.” He spoke softly. “He was in G-lock.”

Your heart sank. Javy was Jake’s best friend and wingman. They were practically inseparable from when they first arrived on North Island as Top Gun cadets.

When he opened his eyes, he had a thousand-yard stare, “Then Phoenix and Bob had to punch out because of birdstrike.” He continued.

“Oh, babe,” you cooed.

“This was all within minutes of each other.” He continued. “I had to sit in the Ready Room and listen to Maverick call it out over the radio. Over and over, he called out Coyote’s name just to try and pull Javy out of it.” He let out a deep breath, “He almost wasn’t in time.”

“But he was,” you reminded him.

“But what if he hadn’t been?” He questioned. “What if Phoenix or Bob weren’t able to eject in time? It’s happened before. That’s how Rooster’s dad died.”

You had heard the story of how Rooster’s dad died, as well as a few other pilots in the Top Gun program. It was heartbreaking, and every day that everyone came home was a day you were extra thankful for.

“Jake,” You spoke softly, cradling the side of his face. He turned into it and kissed the palm of your hand. “You can’t let yourself live in that thought process. Accidents happen, and you can’t keep reliving those moments. But you can keep the people you care about the most close to you and remind them every day how much you care.”

He was quiet for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that most people never experienced this side of him- the kind, caring, actual human side. A part of you always hoped he would share it with the rest of the world, but that wasn’t likely to happen.

“I guess I don’t do a good job at that,” He spoke so softly you weren’t sure you were supposed to hear.

“Vulnerability is courageous in its own way,” You encouraged, moving your hand to rest on his chest.

He chuckled softly. “And dangerous.”

“At times,” you nodded, smiling at him.

He reached out and grabbed your hand in his. He intertwined your fingers and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “You know that I love you, right?”

You were shocked by the concern evident in his expression, as if you may actually doubt his feelings for you.

“Jacob Seresin, I question many things in the world; but the fact that you love me is certainly not one of them.” The smile that stretched across his face could have lit up the night sky.

“After this mission, I have no idea where they’ll send me next.”

“It won’t matter. You always find your way back here.” You squeezed his hand softly.

“What if we didn’t have to worry about it?”

You looked at him with a scrunched forehead. There was no way this man was considering leaving the Navy, so what on earth could he mean.

“What if you and I never had to worry about where I was stationed. You could come with me.”

“Jake, the only way that would happen is if we were married.” You pointed out the obvious.

“I know,” He looked down at your intertwined hands. The man, confident in everything he does, finally came across a situation that made him nervous.

“Oh,” You let out a heavy breath, completely caught off guard by the direction of the conversation.

“I always knew that this was what I wanted, to marry you.” He spoke again, “I honestly thought I’d ask in a different way. Probably at the beach or back at home on the ranch. But I’ve wanted to ask you for a while now.”

You already knew the answer to his unasked question. It was always going to be yes. “You haven’t asked me a question, Jake.”

He laughed and rolled off the couch before kneeling in front of you. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“Will you (y/f/n) (y/l/n) marry me?” The tone in his voice and the smile on his face were more confident than a moment ago. He knew the answer. You would haven’t have pushed him to ask the question if you were going to say no.

A giggle escaped your lips as you nodded your head, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, and kissed him.

He pulled back, still smiling down at you. “You haven’t answered my question.”

You rolled your eyes, still smiling, as he turned your statement around on you.

“Yes, a million times, yes.”

He smiled, thrilled with your answer and satisfied he could turn your sarcastic response back on you. He closed the distance between the two of you and kissed you breathlessly.

A/N: If you’ve made it this far - thank you so so so much for reading! My Masterlist can be found here. All work is also available on AO3

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thebirdandthebee · 2 years

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✨ thebirdandthebee Masterlist ✨

welcome to my master list! more often than not, my work has smut, so please be warned. 18+ is the preference here. I write primarily for Top Gun: Maverick and Hulu’s The Bear, though this could change in the future.

Top Gun

Imagine Me & You: A Jake Seresin Fic

Intro: Red Bottoms, Blue Box

Chapter 1: French 75

Chapter 2: Making Headway

Chapter 3: Mouth Breather

Chapter 4: Hot Sauce

Chapter 5: Come Back, Be Here

Chapter 6: A Dream

Chapter 7: Pump the Brakes

Chapter 8: Size 6

One Shots

Wrong About Bob (18+) Bob Floyd

Don’t Touch My Boots Bob Floyd ft. Coveting Hangman

In A Twist (18+) Bob Floyd

Aw Honey Honey (18+) Jake Seresin

Act Accordingly Bradley Bradshaw

Call Him Daddy (18+) Bradley Bradshaw

Mighty Fine (18+) Bradley Bradshaw

The Bear

Easy As: A Carmen Berzatto Universe

This series is not in chronological order and can be read as separate one-shots

Boka / Sugar Mama / Irish Spring / Pastina / Grasshoppers / Call V / Manscape / Salt n Vinegar / Webbing / Roommate / Tasting / Patrick Kane / Tostones / Biceps / Bleachers / Funny Valentine / Hushpuppies / Drew Barrymore / Smoke / Dancing Bears / All Yours / Dog Pile / Facts are Facts / Spring Break / Imposter / Cast / Baby Broccoli / Tips / Sous / Beard / Mush

Standalone Carmen Blurbs

Pregnancy Fluff

Post-Birth Fluff

Jealous Carmen 18+

Cuddling Carmen

Babymoon Smut 18+

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admiraltitmouse · 11 months

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Imagine a completely smitten Jake, slow dancing with reader in an empty hard deck with "Fooled Around and Fell in Love" by Elvin Bishop on the juke box.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #top gun #glen powel #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fan fic #soft jake seresin #fooled around and fell in love

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birdy-bat-writes · 1 year

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You've Got the Real Thing Right Here

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

A/N: I kid you not, I wrote this in 30 minutes in a Gatorade-induced, TikTok-fueled romantic fit of filthy feelings. So…it’s probably not edited well and I’m so sorry haha. But I hope you like it:D

Summary: You come across a scene in a book and wonder, is this really attractive? Luckily, your boyfriend is there to show you that it really is.

Content Warnings: almost smut, really borderline smut, fluff, Jake being a sweetheart, Jake being way too hot to handle, and some swearing. Let me know if I missed anything :D Minors DNI!!!!

Word count: 1047

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You didn’t usually get many days off, so today was a rarity. Your boss left for a personal vacation and since there was nothing to do at the office, you were told that you simply didn’t have to come in. It was impromptu and random, but you knew exactly how you were going to spend it. There were only 8 more chapters left in your book, and you’ve been dying to find out of the two love interests finally get together.

It was a little cold out today in San Diego, another rarity. After a warm shower, you slipped into some cozy leggings and your favorite of all your boyfriend’s sweatshirts; a gray and burnt orange Longhorns crewneck subtly scented with his cologne, your perfume, and the smell of brownies from your shared baking excursion last weekend. You opted out of wearing anything under the sweatshirt because why not? It was your day off, after all. With a cup of hot chocolate, you sat down by a window and opened your paperback to its little crocheted bookmark and let yourself sink into the story.

You didn’t realize how much time had passed by the time you closed the book and placed it on the coffee table. You started at 10:00 am and now it was 3:00. Emotions were swirling within you, and you couldn’t help but twirl around your living room, smiling. They finally got together! Oh god, that was so cute—and a few pages later, so hot. Still grinning like an idiot, you decided to head on over to the kitchen and grab lunch. You microwaved last night’s leftovers and let your mind wander. Every romance book you’ve read has the same scene; the guy leaning on the doorframe and looking down at the girl. What’s up with that? It makes you feel warm every time, and you just know that whatever scene comes next is bound to be good but what the heck makes a doorframe attractive? It’s just leaning; something you do every day.

Your thoughts were interrupted by keys jangling at your door. Jake was home! You leant over in your chair, putting yourself in his line of sight. “Hey, Babe, welcome home.” Jake could hear the smile in your voice.

“Why, thank you, Darlin’. What’s got you in such a good mood?” he asked, walking over to you and placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“Nothing much,” you replied as he walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Gatorade. “How was work?” Jake started talking, and you’re sure you heard some of it but from here on out, another thought consumed your mind entirely. Jake isn’t that much shorter than your kitchen door….

“…so I told him that was crazy. Right?” Jake looked to you to find you absolutely spaced out. “Y/N? Everything okay…?”

“Uh, yeah! Sorry, what were you saying?” Jake grinned, amused at the light blush that was dusting your cheeks.

“No, no, what’s got you so distracted?”

“Nothing, I promise.” You insisted, standing up to join him in the kitchen entrance.

“Sweetheart, you’re great at a lot of things,” he started, putting his hand in yours, “but you’re a shit liar.” You giggled with him and looked down.

“Okay, okay. Can you do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“Alright, uh,” you didn’t expect to suddenly get as shy as you did. “Could you just put your hand up here, on the doorframe corner and like, lean over a little?” Jake, with his Gatorade still in hand, looked down at you, confused, but still did it anyway.

“Like this?”, he asked.

“Yeah! Now, bend your elbow a little. Lean naturally into it.”

“Is there a reason for this or…?”

“Satisfying my curiosity.”

“Gotcha.”

“Okay, perfect.” You took a small step back, one hand still on Jake’s chest to get a look at the full picture and…woah. Okay, now you get why curiosity killed the cat, and why every book had this scene. It was freaking hot.

Jake’s green eyes were darkened by the shadows of his lashes and his lips had the slightest shine from the Gatorade. God, you bet he tasted like lemon-lime right now, and his posture…you knew he was tall, but did he really always tower over you like this? His biceps were on full display along with the tan skin of his neck and, god, he was so close, and so big and his cologne was intoxicating. You felt hot.

Jake saw it immediately. He knew that look; he saw your lips part and the way your legs squeezed shut. Oh. He took a long drawn-out look at your figure up and down and he knew you were done for.

Smirking, he asked, “Y/N, Honey, you okay there? You look a little red.” A teasing tone lacing his voice. He reached toward the coffee table to put down his Gatorade and he saw it. It’s that book you’ve been reading. There it is. Jake curled his hand around your waist, snaking it under your his sweatshirt, making you shiver as he pulled you close. His fingers were icy against your hot skin from holding the cold bottle. You gasped when he pressed you flush against his chest. “All this because of a book?” he took his other hand down from the doorframe to place it on your cheek, stroking it softly with his thumb. “Baby, you’ve got the real thing right here.” He whispered, lips ghosting over yours before pressing into you for a rough, heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his waist while his fingers pressed into yours. He peppered kisses along your jawline, feeling the warmth of your skin on his. The sensation of his stubble on your neck went straight to your core and made you whimper, an act that tore down what little resolve Jake had left. He pulled away and took you by the hand out of the kitchen.

“Jake, why’d you stop?” You uttered, breathlessly.

“I didn’t. Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“The bedroom. Oh,” he took two steps back to the coffee table and reached for the bottle of Gatorade. “Better take this. You’ll need it by the time I’m done with you.”

Moral of the story? Read books, stay sexy.

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Taglist: @glorified-red

Please let me know if you'd like to be on my permanent Top Gun or general tag list :)

Tagging some friends, no pressure to interact y'all:

@tongue-like-a-razor @roosterbruiser @roosterscock @girl-in-the-chairs-void @bussyslayer333 @roosterforme @glen-powells @roosters-slut @callsign-fangirl @roostersrooster

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senawashere · 2 months

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You're still the one..

A/n: This song is so Jake Seresin. And also i realised i messed the time's and date's so be aware of it🫣 This is for @ohtobeleah 's Galentines day!!

Warnings: Mention of pregnancy and giving birth and mostly fluff (minors please still dont interact)

Word count:3,8 K

February 17 2024. 01.34 am

Jake Seresin never thought he would settle.

Jake Seresin never thought he would come home to freshly baked dinner almost every night.

Jake Seresin never thought he would come home from deployment with pure joy.

Jake Seresin never thought he would be a dad.

Jake Seresin also never thought he would be a husband. A great one.

But here he was being the best of him for his family.

One night, with his wife peacefully laying beside him and their two beautiful babies sleeping soundly in their shared room,Jake Seresin couldn't help but reflect on how the story of their love had begun.

As he lay there, the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains illuminated the room, casting a gentle aura over the scene. The hushed sounds of nighttime surrounded them, creating a tranquil atmosphere that contrasted with the high-octane tales of Jake’s daring adventures.

His mind drifted back to the Hard Deck, where the neon lights and pulsating beats had set the stage for their first meeting. Jake couldn't shake the memory of that night – the electric connection, the shared laughter, and the undeniable chemistry that had sparked between them. Little did he know that the chance encounter in the bar would evolve into a love story that now filled their shared space with warmth and joy.

August 18 2018:

The Hard Deck pulsed with the kind of energy that seemed to defy gravity, much like the Jake Seresin himself. Bright lights painted the room in vivid hues, casting an electric but also soft glow over the animated crowd. You, just another face in the buzzing sea of people, found solace in the dimly lit corner of the bar.

And then, he swaggered in, a living legend in khaki uniform and aviator sunglasses Jake Seresin, the talk of the town. His sandy blond,sleek hair and the unmistakable cocky grin made your heart flutter unexpectedly. As if guided by some unseen force, he ended up at the bar right beside you.

The air crackled with unspoken tension, a silent dialogue of glances exchanged beneath the pulsating beats. Penny must have noticed the incident because she leaned over to your ear and whispered encouragingly for you to break the ice.

"Fly any cool jets lately?" you asked, your attempt at nonchalance betrayed by the slight quiver in your voice,it wasn't expected.

He shot you a smirk, a glint of mischief in his eyes, and the conversation took off like a supersonic jet. Jake's tales of high-flying adventures and near misses filled the air, weaving a spell that drew you into his orbit. The chaotic sounds of the bar faded away as you found yourself captivated by his world.

“Do you think they are having fun?” Phoenix asked Rooster while sipping her beer.

“Nah,i guess not”

But your and his laughter became the soundtrack of the night, shared stories creating a bridge between two strangers who felt strangely connected.

The Hard Deck, with its bright ambiance and heady atmosphere, became the backdrop to a love story written in stolen glances and genuine smiles.

In the heartbeat of that night, you realized that Jake Seresin was not just a daring pilot but a soul with whom you shared an undeniable connection. The clinking of glasses and the distant hum of conversations faded into the background, leaving only the vibrant chemistry that sparked between you and the real-life Hangman, as the Hard Deck transformed into the unexpected stage for the beginning of something extraordinary.

And both of you were grateful for Hard Deck and Penny that night.

October 10 2019:

Life with Jake was fun.

Life with Jake was an exhilarating journey, an adventure marked by laughter, spontaneity, and a touch of unpredictability. From the moment he entered your world, it was as if a burst of vibrant energy had been injected into the everyday routine, transforming the mundane into a thrilling escapade.

His infectious zest for life was like a magnetic force, pulling you into a whirlwind of excitement. Every day was an opportunity for new experiences, whether it was exploring uncharted places or simply finding joy in the ordinary. Jake's playful spirit infused even the simplest moments with a sense of fun and wonder.

Together, you navigated the ups and downs with a shared sense of humor that made challenges feel more like temporary detours than roadblocks. Life with Jake was a rollercoaster of laughter, a soundtrack of inside jokes and spontaneous adventures that left a trail of fond memories.

What made it even more special was Jake's ability to find joy in the little things. Whether it was a spontaneous road trip, a homemade dinner, or just a quiet evening at home, he had a knack for turning the ordinary into something extraordinary.

It was in those everyday moments that you discovered the true meaning of happiness – the joy of simply being with someone who knew how to make every moment count.

Life with Jake wasn't just fun; it was a celebration of love, friendship, and shared experiences. He taught you that life's journey is not just about reaching a destination but about savoring the joy of the ride. With Jake by your side, every day was an opportunity to embrace the thrill of the unknown, and you wouldn't have had it any other way.

Especially after little over a year, Jake knelt on one knee one morning as both of you were preparing breakfast. As you turned around in your seat to grab the toast, you saw him on just one knee, holding a blue velvet box, delicately opening it to reveal a slim, gold ring with a dainty not so big diamond in the center – a thoughtful choice you knew he had made, understanding how he moved in minimalist jewelry.

"I had a speech, and - aside from the fact that I have a lot of things to say about you but, I don't remember anything else now and more than that but look I'm madly in love with you. And ı can't think of a day where ı open my eyes and not see you or going to bed without you being the last person ı talk to and I just - Screw it, Y/N, I can't imagine a life without you in it, and just - marry me, please?"

His eyes were already shining before taking a deep breath, his lips trembling as he bitten his lower lip, his lips already pink, and there he was proposing in his black fitted shirt and in his red gingham pajama bottom.

You screamed, placing your hands over your heart, shaking your head as you cried, "Yes! Yes, oh my God, yes, hundred times yes!" Before you could even stand up, you found yourself throwing yourself to the floor, where he hugged you tightly.

Also, you remember that celebrating only with close friends and family in your home was very humble.

You didn't know too many people and you two didn't want a huge ceremony. So the backyard was the cutest place to get married.

As your bridesmaids Phoenix, Halo, and Penny took responsibility for decorating the backyard of your shared home with all the decors, illuminating the trees and walls.

The moment Jake saw you in the simple white wedding dress, it became a moment etched forever in everyone's mind who was present.

He was crouched, pulling you inside for a hug before closing his open mouth in disbelief; you were also laughing shyly as you pulled him to yourself.

He wore a white suit, with pink embroidered flowers on the sides resembling the headpiece you wore.

Polaroids were taken, all the photos were captured on film, making everything about the night,everyone was having the time of their lives.

Whole dagger squad was there and they were the life and the soul of the party.

Jake’s sisters,his family and your siblings and family were there.

Even admiral Beau came. Maverick brought him; he also brought Ice.

The night was more fun, more enchanting and more emotional than anyone expected.

“They said, "I bet they'll never make it"

But just look at us holding on

We're still together, still going strong..”

January 30 2020:

Three years ago, on January 30, you remember telling Jake that you were pregnant. Technically, you screamed it out.

Both of you decided to attend Shania Twain’s show at Madison Square Garden, given your shared admiration for her.

He just came from a 4 week deployment and you knew he needed a break, especially during tense times.

So you planned a trip to New York because he loved there but honestly who doesn't love New York?

But something happened almost before 5 days before the trip.

You got sick. It all started with a lack of appetite, and then suddenly, you felt like eating everything and anything. You blamed hormones until morning sickness kicked in.

If there was one thing you absolutely hated, it was nausea. You remember waking up shaking and retching, your body still feeling the need to rush to the toilet despite not having eaten anything that morning.

For the first three days of these incidents, you were alone. Jake was about to return from the deployment.

Not wanting to disturb him and worry him, you didn't tell him anything.

Whenever he asked why you looked unwell, you simply told him it was just nausea and nothing serious.

One day after Jake went out with Bradley, you remember calling your best friend,Phoenix, asking her to bring you a pregnancy test, choosing to avoid any tabloid talk.

Your heart was pounding, legs bouncing,palms sweaty, and nausea had already begun when you followed the instructions, waiting anxiously.

And then it happened; a scream of disbelief, one hand covering your mouth while the other tightly held the test - you were pregnant.

You remember Jake loving many things, many people, and many abstract ideas like love. You knew he loved babies and kids, often talking about them with you, mentioning seeing you both building a family.

So, after visiting the obstetrician and learning you were five weeks pregnant, you were dazed and excited to tell Jake but decided to do it in a different setting.

Four days after your visit, you and Jake were at Madison Square Garden singing along with Shania Twain.

You stood in front of Jake, leaning your back against him, his arms wrapped around your waist, your hands holding onto his arms, both of you swaying to “You’re still the one’ " while his chin rested on your shoulder.

When you moved slightly to look at him, Jake gazed back at you while singing.

“You're still the one I run to

The one that I belong to

You're still the one I want for life

You're still the one that I love

The only one I dream of

You're still the one I kiss goodnight..”

He kissed your lips and lightly tapped your forehead. Slowly pulling back, he smiled at you.

And then you said it.

"I'm pregnant."

His eyebrows shot up, leaning closer, "I can't hear you!"

You grinned, turning in his arms, "I'm pregnant! Five weeks pregnant!"

His world stopped, mouth forming an 'O' shape as his eyes widened,

"Y/N, are you kidding?!"

With a surprised smile, he asked, lips stretching into a grin, "My love, are you for real?" he asked.

Nodding with joy, you brought his hand from his cheek to your stomach, saying, "You're going to be a dad!"

His breakdown, tears streaming down, biting his lip as he threw his head back, red-nosed,his adam apple bobbing and crying with veins visible on his forehead, hugging you before crying into your shoulder – the only thing he needed to cry into before crying to your shoulder.

His eyes were teary as he held you, feeling him pulling back to rest his forehead against yours, moving his hands to the sides of your neck, "I love you. I love you so much," pulling you back into a hug, one hand moving towards the back of your head, the other on your back, and bringing you closer.

The 9 month pregnancy was smooth and emotional.

The 9 months of your pregnancy were painful, but there wasn't much else to feel aside from your love for Jake's incredible support and assistance and your admiration for your daughter, Emma Seresin.

Since the moment Emma came into the world, you knew she had wrapped her tiny finger around Jake's.

Your daughter was a bond between both of you, but you took pride in her character and personality at such a young age.

When Emma turned 3, you felt proud of how you and Jake could chat with her, even if it was about Jake’s job or hard topics like that and you loved every moment of him talking about how much Emma loved strawberry chapstick or how her nail color was important for her.

On a day when a familiar nausea and change in appetite reminded you of a late period, one question lingered in your mind.

So, over a meal, you brought it up to your husband, who was struggling to eat with your daughter in his lap.

Long story short, you were pregnant – again.

June 26 2023:

You, your husband, and your daughter were sitting in your backyard, allowing Emma to get some vitamin D. While you were writing in your journal, both of you were on the swings, and Emma was playing with her toys and running around, Jake was reading a book beside you.

‘’Mommy?’’

"Yes, sweetheart?"

She ran towards you, putting both of her hands on her knees before looking at your eight-month-pregnant belly and grinning, "What's in there?"

Jake chuckled, putting his book aside to pay closer attention.

"Your baby sibling is in there," you smiled at her.

"But how? Can I sit in there too?"

You and Jake chuckled at her question. "You used to sit in there, darling. But then, you were born three years ago."

Emma frowned, looking at you. "I want to go back in."

You looked at Jake, silently asking for his help.

Before lifting her into your lap, he leaned forward, hands wrapping around her underarms. "But your sibling won't have enough space then."

"I don't care," she whined, crossing her arms and looking down while talking, her lips quivering.

"Your sibling needs all the space to grow up and play with you. Don't you want that?" You asked gently, one hand on your knee.

"But he'll take my toys."

"You can share all your toys with him, sweetheart. He'll share his toys with you too." You chuckled, fearing she wouldn't like her sibling. It was something neither you nor Jake was ready for.

"But, but, you and dad will buy more toys for him.I don't want him." She said with a whimper, arms crossed and looking down, her lips trembling.

You and Jake shared a look before turning back to your three-year-old.

"Emma," Jake gently called her name, looking at her without lowering his gaze, "Sweetie, look at me, please." Emma slowly looked at Jake, allowing both of you to see her teary eyes. "You know Mommy and Daddy love you, and we'll always love you, right?"

You reassured her, saying, 'We love you very much, baby, and nothing will change that,'" you said, placing one hand on your knee, "We're excited for your sibling to meet you. He loves you too."

"Didn't you get excited the other day to show him your room?" Jake asked, rubbing her back gently.

"Yes," she murmured.

"You have so much to show and teach him. You can be his first best friend. Isn't that nice?"

As if understanding what was said, Emma slowly nodded her head.

"We love you, sweetheart. Forever," Jake said, leaning to give her a kiss on the forehead.

Emma turned to her father, crossing her arms and raising two fingers, one for you and one for Jake, "Promise?"

As if your hearts melted right there, you would cry as you locked your pinky finger with hers, watching Jake do the same.

"We promise."

But nobody warned you about the hell you'd go through when your daughter started to envy Calvin.

The day Emma entered the hospital room, holding hands with Javy, and looked at you lying in the hospital bed next to Calvin, making baby sounds as he moved his arms and legs,his eyes wide open, you knew it was somehow going good.

She seemed very welcoming.

Jake sat on the other side of his son, playing with your hair as a non-verbal way to thank you and comfort you after the pain you went through. His lips were fixed in a smile; his heart was pounding with happiness at the addition of the new healthy family members.

Emma looked at her parents, unable to see the middle sibling. She was overwhelmed because she knew she would meet her brother.

"Hello, sweetheart!" Jake grinned at her, bending slightly and opening his arms. Before kissing her cheek, he hugged her tightly as he carried her to sit on his hip, watching her eyes immediately shift to the newborn baby.

"Meet Calvin, buddy." Tired but with a smile on your face, you spoke, hoping she would take the change lightly.

Well, at least you hoped so.

But as Emma threw herself onto Jake, burying her head on his shoulder, crying, it was expected.

Javy and his wife didn't know how to help. Just like Bradley and Natasha.

"Hey, hey, what's the problem?" Jake asked, rubbing her back as she cried.

"I don't like him," Emma said, dragging him, her arms wrapped around Jake's neck.

You both know she wasn't a kid like this and it surprised you both.

Your heart broke, and Jake's smile faded as if triggered by the screams of your daughter, Calvin started crying too. You sat down, gently picking him up into your arms, placing him against your chest, soothing him, and supporting the back of his head as you pleaded for almost everything to be done by him.

Until Jake locked onto Emma after realizing she was causing the crying. He got out of the small room and stopped in the corridor, holding her, bouncing softly to calm her down.

"Come on, baby, please calm down," he said with a sigh, "Why don't you like Calvin?" he muttered, rubbing her back.

Emma sniffled, pulled back, but while keeping her father's head down, she moved her hand to touch Jake's necklace - the one you and Emma gave him on Father's Day, "Because-because-because he's little and needs more attention, and you won’t love me anymore.."

Jake sat in a chair, still holding his daughter in the same way. "What makes you think that?"

"He will have more love because he's little and needs more attention."

Jake took a deep breath and let the words drown him. While it was true that the little one needed necessary and more attention, he didn't know how to explain to the older one that it wasn't the case.

"When you were a little baby," he started, looking at her, "Mommy and Daddy were everywhere with you. You wanted your parents,us, with you all the time. You cried when we were asleep, spit up too much on us," Jake chuckled to himself, remembering those moments and realizing how everything felt like just yesterday, "You always wanted your mommy and daddy with you. And we never left you," he finished, "So, what makes you think we'd leave you now, sweetheart?"

Emma didn't respond.

"Your brother can't talk yet. He can't say when he's hurt, he doesn't even know the taste of your favorite blueberry pancakes. And we have to make sure he does all these things just like you. But the thing is," Jake leaned to whisper in her ear as if sharing a secret, "Mommy and Daddy can't do it alone. We can't do it without you."

Emma slowly looked at Jake, her face with furrowed eyebrows.

"We promised, sweetheart. We promised to love you forever. Have we ever broken a promise?" He watched her nod, "And we won't. So what do you say? Can you give your brother a chance? Actually, he's quite funny." Jake smiled at her.

"Is he funnier than you?" She asked.

Jake laughed, "Much funnier! You just have to look closely."

Emma giggled quietly.

"Mommy is so excited for you to meet Calvin, do you know that? She was telling me about all the numbers you can teach him, all the pictures you two will take. And what he'll get you for Christmas."

"Can he get me a book about stars? With pictures?" She asked excitedly.

Jake grinned, filled her face with kisses, and heard her giggle, knowing it was one of his favorite sounds, "Tell him."

When Jake stopped, Emma sighed, lowering her shoulder, "Okay, Daddy. I'll say to him.."

"Thank you." He smiled gratefully, "Shall we go back?"

When your husband hugged your daughter and walked in with her in his arms, you couldn't know what to expect until you saw your them

Shy and embarrassed Emma, after sharing a glance with Javy,and hugged Jake after returning to her place.

Calvin had also returned to his place, and silence had returned.

Emma looked at him again, finally noticing how small his hands were, and got curious. Reluctantly, she leaned down a bit with the intention of poking his hand.

But the moment she touched him, it was the moment Calvin wrapped his fingers around hers, making her smile.

"He's holding my finger!" She squealed with delight, "You were right, Daddy. He is funny."

"Yes, you just need to get to know him a bit more," Jake said, bending down and kissing Calvin’s hand before looking at you and whispering an ‘’ı love you so much’’

He was happy that you were still the one to love.

02.05 am February 17:

There was a tired smile formed on his face after he thought about memories.

Beside him, his wife, you stirred in your sleep, a serene expression on your face.

That made him realize how late it was.

Jake turned to face your sleeping form. Moved some stray of your hair and kissed your soft cheek. and while he was looking at you he noticed something.. Jake's heart swelled with gratitude for the life you both had built together.

Your shared room became a sanctuary, adorned with the echoes of laughter,after some rough night; soft pantings and ‘’ı love you’s’’, sometimes a place where you comforted each other and the soft breathing of your sleeping kids, and the quiet acknowledgment of a love that had deepened with time.

In the stillness of the night, surrounded by the tangible evidence of your shared journey – the woman he loved, you, and the two precious souls you both had brought into the world together– Jake couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected beauty of how their story had unfolded. The Hard Deck, with its bright yellow lights and adrenaline-fueled beginnings, now seemed like a distant, yet cherished, memory in the symphony of their family life.

And he was grateful that you were still the one who he kissed for goodnight.

I loved writing this 🥹

I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @sailor-aviator @sorchathered @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @floydsglasses @lyn-js @seresinsbrat @torchflies @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @bradshawsbaddie @hardballoonlove @perfectprettypisces @topguncortez @hangmanapologist

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ussgallifrey · 4 months

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Home for the Holiday | Part 3

✦ Summary: Never let it be said that you weren’t willing to do just about anything for your squadron. As you find yourself roped into an elaborate ruse to help fool Hangman’s mother for Christmas all seems to be going according to plan. But when that plan spirals out of control, the line between real and pretend begins to blur.

✦ Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Female Reader

✦ Warnings: Anxiety, arguments, fake dating, hurt/comfort, Jake’s family being fake and generally awful towards him, mentions of divorce, mentions of past abuse, minor angst.

✦ Word Count: 9.9k

✦ Author’s Note: Hi, has it been over a year since I posted anything for this story? It must be a Christmas miracle! Anyway, this one has been sitting in my drafts for a very long time, slowly getting added to every few months. And here we come to the end of Jake's annoying family. The next two chapters will be decidedly happier, I promise.

[Master List]

You’re woken neither by your own internal clock nor the backup alarm on your phone but by the irritated slamming of something across the hotel room. It takes you a second to properly assess the sound as being of the non-dream variety. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you push up onto your elbow to stare into the unsettled darkness.

The golden light from the bathroom spills out into the entryway where a shirtless Hangman seems to be fighting a losing battle with the foldup ironing board.

“You good?” you call out, voice still hoarse with sleep.

His eyes snap up to meet yours, mustering out an almost guilty, “Shit, sorry Pits.”

You wave him off, sitting up properly - the white sheets spilling over your thighs.

The bedside clock informs you that it’s still early in the morning, though not unreasonably so. He had told you the drive to his father’s place would take a while, so it made sense for him to be up at this hour but less so for whatever the hell he was trying to accomplish across the room.

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, scratching at the back of your neck as you pad your way over to find out.

“What’s with the iron?”

There’s a seafoam green shirt on the board with a plugged-in iron on its end, that much you can see.

“Damn thing won’t turn on,” he flicks the buttons on the iron up and down, on and off.

Quirking your brow, “You know it takes time to heat up, yeah?”

He pauses, fixing you with an exasperated look, “Fifteen minutes enough for you?”

Throwing your hands up in a defensive hold, you take a step back.

“Shit. Look, I’m not trying to be a total ass here. Just, I didn’t exactly go packing a lot of options and I can’t go wearing what I did yesterday because Josh saw it already - ”

“Got it.”

He sighs in defeat, grabbing hold of the shirt. Giving it a good flap, you can see the clear wrinkles on the front.

For a lazy day in, the shirt would be fine. But this was a family get-together and Jake Seresin was a naval officer. His closet was likely similar to your own when it came to precision-pressed and properly hung items. Wearing this shirt, the way it was, would not fly.

“Well, before you go complain to the front desk - give it here, and let me try something.”

His own brow rises but he ultimately hands it over by the scruff of the collar. Swiping up your toiletry bag, you head into the bathroom, looking over your shoulder to give him a small smile.

“Let’s see if the magic of steam can’t work a miracle on this.”

His features drop in a way that says he hadn’t even considered that as an option before he grins, “Here’s hoping.”

After hanging the shirt on the towel bar, you take an extra long and heated shower. Letting the water massage your back and shoulders with its pressure. You certainly missed the little things like this when you were aboard the carrier. Uninterrupted, hot, lengthy showers where you didn’t feel like it might be a biohazard to touch any surface.

No, this was nice.

And when you step out of the tub and wrap a towel around your middle, you crack the door open to inform Jake that his shirt is just about good to go.

“But I can hit it with the hair dryer still. We got time, right?”

He hums in reply from the other side of the room, though you can’t see him.

Turning on the exhaust fan, you wipe down the steam-covered mirror with a hand towel and go about finishing your routine. Making sure your feet are actually dry, you step back into the room - walking over to your bag in search of another outfit.

Jake had pushed aside the blackout curtains in your absence, filling the room with natural light. He’s sat on the edge of his bed again, but now he has a plain white tank on to go with his jeans. You can hear the faintest clearing of his throat, making you look back at him.

His gaze drifts down your back for a second before he seems to busy himself with his phone again.

“I’m guessing this one is a little more casual?” you ask, pulling out three different shirts.

“Mmm, yeah,” he clears his throat again with a cough, glancing over towards the bathroom.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get your shirt out in a minute. I’m just letting the steam work its last bit of magic on it.”

His eyes finally meet yours and he frowns slightly, “I wasn’t - y-yeah… okay.”

And then it seems to dawn on you: you were only wearing a towel.

And while it might be common for the guys of your squadron to walk around shirtless in the gym, or when they were changing out of sweaty flight gear, it wasn’t exactly a frequent occurrence for you to be seen in anything but your usual navy-issued tank and shorts. And while Hangman himself had been in nothing more than a towel yesterday morning, during the rush to get ready, that seemed like an entirely different situation to your own.

Your heart races as you become aware of just how exposed you are right now.

Grabbing hold of your entire bag and muttering out an embarrassed: “Sorry, I’ll just - ” as you hurriedly flee back into the bathroom.

Hangman, for his part, seems too stunned to even form a reply and you can’t exactly blame him.

Jesus, what were you thinking? You might be comfortable around your squadron but nothing over the past two days had elicited that level of comfort between the two of you.

Taking far longer than necessary to choose an outfit and get dressed, you’re slow and methodical about your hair and makeup this time too. Only when your nerves have settled down from the encounter, do you finally grab his shirt and return to the room.

“Well, what do you think?”

You hold the shirt up for him to examine. He nods, standing from his spot on the bed to take hold of it by the shoulders.

“Thank you.”

You just nod, tight-lipped, as you go about putting your bag away in its rightful spot. Jake tugs his arms through the sleeves before heading over to the full-length mirror by the front door. You watch as he methodically rolls the sleeves up to his elbows, creasing the cuff perfectly each time. When he’s done, he twists his watch around - back and forth, a few times.

And then he clears his throat, looking over towards you as you slip on your boots.

“You look good, by the way.”

Slowly, your eyes meet his and you offer him a gentle smile.

“Not too shabby yourself, Bagman.”

He ducks his head down for a second, grinning all the same. But then he’s glancing down at his watch and frowning again, patting his front and back pockets as he checks his EDC.

“You ready to go?”

Rising from the desk chair, you fix him with a questioning look, “Are you?”

With a smirk, he shakes his head. Offering an honest, “No.”

Jake holds the door open for you as you leave the room, heading down to the stairwell. You make an off-hand comment about it not being the way to the free dine-in breakfast. But he just keeps walking and eventually, you're in the parking lot. Slipping into the passenger side of the rental car, you watch as he adjusts the rearview mirror and his own seat.

Before he even starts the ignition, he looks over at you, “Hungry?”

“Well, someone wouldn’t let us go down to the lobby for breakfast.”

“Ha,” he chuckles. “Come on, I know a better place.”

Raising your brow as you buckle your seatbelt you say, “I’m intrigued.”

Hangman just grins, grabbing hold of the back of your seat as he backs out of the parking spot.

You're not sure what you expected, but when Jake pulls into a busy Sunoco gas station ten minutes later, you can't help but raise your brow skeptically at him.

“Trust me,” he grins - all teeth - as he snags his aviators from his shirt collar.

“Tell me they have the best donuts around at least,” you call, following him out of the car.

He had parked off to the side, away from the entrance of the food mart. Digging his hands into his jean pockets, he waits for you to meet him on the sidewalk in front of the hood of the rental car.

Grinning with all the smugness of a higher power, he nudges your arm with his elbow and leads the way. Avoiding the building entirely, which makes you even more curious. The two of you round the other side of the gas station where the smell of smoked meat and spice fills the air.

There are two food trucks, a yellow tear-drop-shaped repurposed camper, and a smaller red build. Each has its own canvas tent with tables and chairs set up underneath. Fancy chalkboard signs bring the promise of amazing food as do the long-stretched lines outside of them both.

“Okay,” you admit, “You had me concerned for a second there.”

He chuckles, getting into the yellow truck's line, “Gotta keep you on your toes, sweetheart. Anyway, I wanted to give you the chance of having an Austin staple.”

Well, if the menu wasn't enticing enough for you, then the smell certainly was. You find yourself nearly floating along the line with Jake. After ordering, you grab an empty picnic table to yourselves and proceed to dig into the absolutely massive breakfast burritos.

“Have you eaten here before?” you ask after swallowing another absolutely sinful bite.

“No, actually,” he wipes his mouth with another napkin. “This place didn't exist until two years back. Found it online when you were, uh, getting ready.”

Your chest aches as you recall the awkward encounter from this morning. Slowing your chewing, you manage out a pinched, "Well, god bless online reviews. This is incredible."

After another bite, you rub your lips with the back of your hand, glancing across to meet his gaze - his sunglasses remain folded on the table now, so you're able to see the green of his eyes once again.

“I mean it,” you swallow. “This might be the best breakfast I've ever had.”

He stares for a moment, swallowing his own bite before a slow smile graces his lips.

“Better not let your momma hear you talking like that.”

You laugh, “I'm sure she'd understand.”

Jake gives a warm chuckle, shaking his head, “Hell, think you know more about my family than I do about yours at this point. Not even sure I can remember you ever talking about them.”

Setting the burrito down carefully in the foil wrapper, you contemplate his small accusation. While you had certainly heard your fill of just about everyone else’s families while on deployment, you can’t recall if you really ever dove into talking about your own.

Obviously, you had heard all about Jake’s very extended family at this point. But even you knew about Freud and his weird association with his mom’s current husband - her fifth husband if you were remembering things correctly. Cosmo had a close relationship with his sister Cecilia but not his sister Lucia. Slab had a complicated connection with his adoptive parents but got on okay with his older brother. And so on.

“They’re not very interesting,” you finally settle on.

He raises a single eyebrow, “I highly doubt that.”

“Compared to yours?”

That makes him smirk, “Fair point.”

From there, it takes you a little longer to realize that you’re both eating at a leisurely pace and that Jake isn’t constantly checking his watch or telling you to speed it up. It’s a strange occurrence, given his usual attentiveness for being timely. Jake Seresin lived by the motto that if you’re early, you’re on time and if you’re on time, you’re late.

So, as nearly a full hour of the two of you sitting there and shooting the shit passes, you start to grow the slightest bit concerned. Going on to ask:

“How far did you say your dad’s place was?”

His lips immediately fall into a sort of scowl as you pull him away from a very amusing story about his time in officer’s school.

“Two hours,” comes the almost robotic reply.

“Does that mean we should start, you know, heading out?”

Your breakfast had long since been finished and the wrappers thrown away. Your drinks were little more than melted ice and semi-chewed straws at this point.

After ruffling his hair and twisting his watch around a few times, he finally sighs.

“Yeah, probably.”

Forcing a tight-lipped smile, you slap his shoulder as you finally stand up from the picnic table.

“Come on, Seresin. You got me as your wingman for a second round today. No time like the present.”

Grabbing hold of both of your near-empty drinks, he too lifts his leg over the side of the bench and stands up with a playfully annoyed, “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up now, Pits.”

The ride to his dad’s house is filled with Christmas music played by two different country radio stations. As the odometer slowly creeps up mile by mile, you can see the difference in your companion’s composure. He started out relaxed, almost lounging in his seat. And then it grows more rigid; with his hands clutching the steering wheel like it had personally wronged him.

Last night, the two of you had talked about the upcoming shitstorm of a holiday get-together.

You knew Josh would be there again. But you would also be meeting his other brother, Justin, and his wife and kids of course. And then there was his sister, Jess, and her brood - as he had put it.

Just from the way he talked about his siblings, it was clear that Jake did not get on with - nor keep in close contact with - any of them. He seemed particularly hung up on his sister more so than his older brothers. And while you were sure there was a story - or two - there, you didn’t feel it was the time, or place,to pry.

And then, of course, there was the infamous Mr. Seresin himself. Of him, you knew the least amount of information. Only being told that you should keep your conversations limited if not just nonexistent. You weren’t sure how well that idea would apply in reality, but for your friend’s sake, you promised to keep things to his plan.

As the radio DJ announces yet another Thomas Rhett song, Jake finally hops onto an exit ramp, signaling that you were close to the inevitable get-together.

In almost two hours, you had covered a variety of topics pertaining to work. But seeing the great amount of tension currently attacking your wingman, you finally relent with a different story.

“I got my pilot’s license at seventeen.”

Only because you’re at a stoplight does Jake look over at you, wide-eyed and mouth slightly ajar as the beginnings of a smirk curl into place.

“Do tell.”

You chuckle as he turns the wheel.

“Whole line of aviators, actually. Great-grandpa was a paratrooper during Korea and I guess he just missed the adrenaline when he came back to the States. His son took up commercial flying and my dad got his license just because it seemed like everyone else in the family was doing it.”

“And you?” his sage green eyes meet yours for a quick second before he focuses back on the road ahead of you.

With a shrug, you draw your knee up on the seat and stare out the passenger window. Swatches of dusty farmland and wooden fences pass you by.

“Guess I was always just growing up around them. My grandpa took me flying all the time when my dad was busy working. Did my first solo ride at fifteen in a glider and got my license two years later.”

You can see his grin from out of your peripheral and count it as a victory.

“Any other incredible talents you’ve kept hidden under that smartass exterior?”

“Hey!” you gently slap his arm, pulling a fake pout. “If there was, I’m not telling you now.”

“Alright, alright,” he bites his lip, tapping the steering wheel as a sense of ease washes over him. “I’ll play nice.”

With a roll of your eyes, you mutter under your breath, “Fat fucking chance.”

There’s a seemingly dramatic sigh from him which is immediately followed by a hand being jabbed into your flank and a screech of laughter erupting from your lips as Jake proceeds to tickle your side.

“G-god fuckin- STOP, y-you asshole,” you try to squirm away from his touch, but his fingers seem to know your exact weak points and there’s only so far you can scramble away.

“Give it up, Pita,” he croons sweetly, still somehow managing to drive the car steadily down the road with his left hand.

“Mercy! Mer-cy, you jackass!”

You shove at his hand until he finally relents. Absolutely beaming as he looks over at you, unable to stop his own chuckle from seeing the state of you. He sighs, the bubble of laughter on his lips as he turns down a dirt road.

“Sure know how to distract a guy.”

With a huff of indignation, you say, “I’m sure there’s more alluring ways to do that.”

Only when Jake chokes on his own spit do you throw your head back in a howl of laughter.

“Christ, the look on your face, Seresin.”

“Ha ha,” he deadpans, catching your gaze in the reflection of the rearview mirror. “Laugh it up, sweetheart. Cause we’re almost there.”

That does seem to sober you both up almost instantly.

The radio sways in and out between bits of static break-up. As the houses fall further and further back from the road, it seems like you’re looking at nothing but straight-up copper-dusted fields.

Hangman leans forward on the wheel as he peers out at the stretch of dirt road, checking the numbers on the mailboxes that pop up every mile. And then, at last, he finally slows the car down to a steady roll.

And while Lady A is singing about it being an absolutely Wonderful Christmastime, you watch as all signs of joy seem to drain from your friend’s face as he turns onto the long-winding drive of his father’s ranch. The tires kick up dirt and pebbles, leaving a trail of dust in your wake. You’re jostled in your seat from the rough terrain of the unpaved driveway.

“Can’t believe I’m fucking doing this,” he murmurs, staring up ahead at the trucks already parked next to the white barn.

The house itself is a massive ranch-style home, with wood siding that almost makes it look like an older cabin. But the windows are clearly modern and sleek. It was no question at all that Jake’s father had some serious money to his name here. If the accompanying acres of farmland weren’t already a dead giveaway.

You wait for him to park, killing the ignition and resting his arms on the steering wheel with a resigned look in place of his usually bright eyes.

“When, uh, when was the last time you were here?”

With a sigh, his chin resting on the wheel now too as he stares up at the sprawling house.

“All the time as a kid. It was my granddad’s. Went on to my uncle until he ran himself straight into debt from all the gambling and drinking. Then this one - ” he jerks his head in the general direction of the house once again, “ - got it passed onto him. Haven’t been back since my granddad passed. So maybe… fourteen years?”

With a singular blink, you mutter an equally pressed, “Jesus, Seresin.”

“Yeah, well…” he just shakes his head, having already given you the gist of everything last night. No point in rehashing old news.

“Looks like everyone is here,” you comment after glancing around at the other numerous vehicles in the drive.

He nods, finally pulling the keys from the ignition and swinging the chain into his hand.

You follow him up the path to the front porch – a once beautiful piece of craftsmanship now deteriorating and stained. The floorboards of the deck squeak under your shoes and a handful of the railings seem to be either broken-off or missing entirely. A black bear carved out of wood greets you both with a simple welcome sign held in its fur-textured paws.

Jake gives a solid rap to the door before he grabs hold of the handle and shoves it open. More of a courtesy knock than anything.

With a little squeeze to his bicep, you give him your best encouraging nod and follow after him as he slides through the entryway where a massive pile of boots and shoes has been deposited.

You’re only afforded a sliver of a proper view into the main living space, but the noise level is already on par with an F18 ready to take off from the flight deck.

As you kick off your shoes into the sprawling mess of footwear, you’re assaulted by the sound of screaming children, raucous cheers, a football announcer blasting through surround-sound speakers, and the faint twang of Christmas music radiating out from a speaker somewhere in the middle of it all.

Mixed with the pungent smell of sweat-soaked shoes and rosemary-scented turkey roasting in an oven, you reach out to grab hold of Jake’s arm – simply from the overwhelming amount of things happening all around you before you even see a single person.

“You good?” he murmurs, a shocking amount of concern etched onto his usually playful features.

“Mhmm,” you manage.

A warm hand eases its way onto the small of your back and you feel the madness fall into a pinpoint tunnel where it’s easily manageable and not so disconcerting.

“Never better,” said through a set of clenched teeth is all you can work up for him.

With another squeeze to his arm, you allow Jake to guide you – by the hand still on your lower back – down the front hall to the large open-plan living space. To your left, several women lean against the russet-colored cabinets, with glasses of dark red wine in hand and ringing laughs as short blonde-haired children weave their way through the space.

To the right, near the stone fireplace sits the majority of the men on overstuffed leather couches and recliners as they stare up, with rapt attention, at the game currently projected on the large flat screen mounted above the mantel.

“Uncle Jake!”

Your eyes lock onto the blur of yellow and red that comes charging toward you both. Stepping out of the fray, you watch as your companion drops to his knees to scoop up the girl with the maroon ribbons laced through her platinum hair.

“Kenna Kenna Kenna,” he grins, grabbing hold of the young girl around her waist as he hefts her up and swings her back and forth in his embrace.

A smile that you can’t seem to control graces your lips as you watch the scene play out.

Oh, the guys back on the carrier would kill to see this side of Hangman right now. What a privilege it was for you to bear witness to.

From over his shoulder, you’re presented with the curious brown eyes of the girl who then jabs her hand against Jake’s chest and demands:

“Who’s that?”

You watch as your companion’s grin slips down for just a brief second before he forces a tight smile.

“That,” comes the familiar voice of the older Seresin brother, who rises from one of the leather recliners with a beer in hand, and a too-smug smile on his face. “Is Uncle Jackie’s girlfriend.”

The girl gasps, staring up at Jake with a pure look of wonderment, “You have a girlfriend?”

Out of instinct alone, you wrap a hand around his right arm – encouraging the act from him.

“I do,” he nods at last, glancing over at you with those piercing green eyes. And then he’s laughing, dropping the girl back down onto her feet as he says, “God, when’d you get so big?”

“Probably sometime between your last visit and now.”

Your gaze snaps over to the woman in a denim blouse in the kitchen area, swirling her wine before she finishes it off.

If you had to take a guess...

“Jess,” he greets, short and to the point with a curt nod of his head.

Bingo.

As the girl, Kenna, skirts off to join the other kids currently hanging back by the patio doors near the massive Christmas tree, another man wanders over. Similar to Josh and Jake, he’s got dimpled cheeks, darker blonde hair, and a distinctive swagger to his walk.

“Hey man,” he claps Hangman on the shoulder, presenting him with a bottle of beer in his other hand. “Long time no fucking see. Look good though.”

Jake takes hold of the drink before he slinks his arm back around your waist, guiding you forward and into his side.

“Justin,” he nods, half in greeting, and half in explanation for your current confusion.

Ah, brother number two.

“And you’re the mysterious girlfriend,” his eyes slip past his brother to land firmly upon your face.

You offer your hand in return, along with your name.

“Never thought we’d see the day,” he grins in return. And then he’s backing away, gesturing toward the fridge, “Something to drink? Beer, wine, Coke?”

Surrounded by so many people who all seem to be particularly interested in scrutinizing your every move, you merely shake your head, “Think I’m good for now, thanks.”

Jake squeezes your side and you look to your left to see him already staring down at you with a soft smile. Emboldened by his apparent approval, you begin to make your rounds with him never far from reach.

You’re introduced, quickly, to Gwen. His bubbly stepmother with dark roots and straw-colored hair who hands you a glass of wine without taking no for an answer. She’s brightness personified and the definition of a doting host. Beside her stands a rather quiet fixture in the kitchen.

Marissa is the curly-haired young wife of Justin Seresin. She watches on with a bottle held between her chipped-red nails as Jess hollers at Kenna from across the room when she tries to drop a handful of slime on her uncle’s head.

The woman remains silent, though she holds an amused smile, as she watches the madness of her inlaws take place. There’s a brood of children that moves and weaves through the adults who remain largely indifferent to their antics.

From the countertop, where an array of appetizers are laid out, you watch as the two seven-year-old twins – Dawson and Dixon – gulf down scoops and scoops of bean dip. While their sister - Brynlee, as Jake’s stepmother manages to tell you over the noise of the get-together – seems content to cling to Marissa’s pant leg as she stares up at the towering adults overhead.

Your nerves begin to ease as a sort of familiar feeling washes over you. If you convinced yourself hard enough, you could almost pretend this was one of your mom’s extended family reunions.

Sure, you weren’t well-acquainted with everyone yet. But if you forced a good smile and made an effort to be courteous, you were sure you could get through the ordeal without tarnishing your wingman’s reputation.

Slowly, Jake guides you through the room, until, at last, you’re sat on the armrest of one of the leather recliners, watching with distant interest as the announcers recount the last play in the game before halftime.

“So, you gonna introduce us properly?”

Your eyes shift toward the couch where you spot the gray-haired tresses and stern sun-baked face of Daniel Seresin. Your companion, who had been standing off to the side of the living room speaking in quiet conversation with his eldest brother, seems to straighten up to full attention as if an admiral had just entered the room.

With a twinge of discomfort, your gaze tracks Jake as he strides over to you, a hand resting on your shoulder when he finally comes to a stop. You can feel his breath on your neck, the rise and fall of his chest against your back.

In a rigid tone bordering on inspection-line worthy, he introduces you by name and rank to his father.

A smile flits across the older man’s face as he beams up at you, rising from his lounged position on the couch to properly shake your hand. He looks the part of a typical rancher with his light-washed jeans and buttoned-down shirt tucked in with a flashy belt buckle.

“Real pleasure to meet you,” he grins. His hand is large, calloused by years of work. “I can’t tell you the last time Jake mentioned a girl catching his interest. Isn’t that right, buddy?”

You feel rather than hear the clipped mhmm that Jake gives in return. His gaze remains largely focused on the wall behind his father where an array of framed family photos resides. Never affording the man with the respect of holding his gaze.

Daniel claps your shoulder warmly and invites you to sit down with promises of their dinner being a real feast.

“She’s a saint, Gwen,” he tells you as you resume your position on the side of the armrest.

Jake, pointedly, slouches down in the actual recliner, his fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle as he stares – unseeing – at the TV.

“Hell, damn near blew myself up last year with the fryer. Don’t think she’ll let me in the kitchen, will ya, honey?”

He shouts the last part, to be heard over the crowd. Followed by a ringing you bet your ass I won’t coming from the vicinity of the stove.

You watch as Josh shakes his head in amusement, cradling a wriggly toddler in his arms. But your attention ultimately falls to the man seated to the side of you. Lost in his thoughts, trapped in his own head.

Reaching down with a tentative hand, you squeeze his fingers with your own.

It takes a minute, but then those welcomed meadow-green eyes meet your gaze and you can almost see the momentary relief that crosses his face as he squeezes your hand in return.

Dinner at the Seresin house is a decidedly casual affair in comparison to the meal you had shared with Patricia the day before. Gwen dishes out the seasonal fixings onto Christmas-themed heavy-duty disposable plates. Accompanied by wrapped bundles of plastic cutlery in Santa Claus paper napkins.

Balancing your plate on your lap is a true feat of talent as you’re the main entry and exit point to the kitchen, still settled on the armrest beside Jake.

The nieces and nephews, all eight of them, are situated on the floor on a big fleece blanket that quickly becomes an absorbent towel for their stray food bits more than anything else. Your hostess has the foresight to turn the game down to a more reasonable level, though the noise in the living room is still on par with a jet engine firing.

You find yourself shouting to be heard whenever anyone graces you with a question, which isn’t many... at first.

“ - anyway, after he pulled them over,” Jess continues her story about her husband, Nick: the Statetrooper. “He told them that he – god damnit! MacKenna Jaymes, are you or are you not watching your sister?”

Your attention, involuntary, falls to the oldest grandchild who has a mouth full of food as she stares helplessly at her younger sister who’s let her plate slip and spill all over the blanket.

“Fucking Christ,” Jake scoffs in heated breath, too quiet for anyone besides you to hear. His anger isn’t directed at his niece, of course, but at his sister.

Shoving his plate onto the other armrest, he peels himself up from the chair and crouches down to the oblivious toddler who has orange cheese sauce all around her lips – which he wipes clean with a napkin.

Jess, for her part, rolls her eyes and continues on with a biting tone about children needing to take care of their own messes. But Jake merely scoops up the girl’s food and settles the plate back down on the floor in front of her with a gentle ruffle of her sweet blonde locks.

You hold his plate for him when he returns to the chair, running a hand through his own hair.

“Thanks, honey,” he says in a cadence so natural it almost makes you drop his plate.

When he’s settled, you chance a look at him before you find your gaze trailing over to the far too smug brother seated on the chair adjacent to yours.

“See? This is the shit I was talking about last night,” he waggles a finger between the two of you as an example.

“Dad, do you remember when he brought over that girl? God, Jackie, what was her fuckin’ name?” Josh perks up, sitting on the edge of the cushion as he grabs his father’s attention, and, inadvertently, Jake’s as well.

“Oh, gosh,” Daniel starts, slapping his knee in thought as he stares up at the ceiling for the answer.

After a beat, you hear the soft utterance of, “Sarah.”

You glance down at Jake who keeps his head bowed under the weight of old memories.

Josh snaps his fingers, “That’s it! Fucking head cheerleader wrapped around his damn finger and did he even spare the girl a glance? I swear to God, he - ”

“Christ, can you knock it off with the swearing already?” Jess snaps.

The mischievous brother merely grins at you in a way that seems to say you see what I’m dealing with here?

“Must be all that growing up that’s got you so enamored.”

Settling your hand on Jake’s left shoulder, you give him a reasurring squeeze. You’d already dealt with his brother’s annoying antics and personality last night, what was a few more hours of unending torture under a familial microscope?

He lets out a long ragged breath, but you can feel his shoulders loosen marginally.

You almost miss the biting sound of the Seresin sister when she mutters, “Doubt it.”

But Jake doesn’t.

And he latches on to it like an enemy target on his radar system.

“Something you wanna say?”

The room falls to a stifling silence like the distant whistle of a falling shell about to make impact. You fear for the fallout from the impending crater.

She has the audacity to look aghast, a hand held to her heart in surprise as she manages to finish off her potato salad in one quick bite.

“Jacob. If you can’t say something nice, you don’t say anything at all.”

“And yet you always manage,” comes his lightning-quick response.

“Well,” she drawls. “On a holy day like Christmas, I think you can find a way to keep your opinions sealed up.”

The other occupants watch the sparring of words like a tennis volley. But someone seems to have had enough.

“Oh, bless your heart dear!” Gwen says, standing quickly from her position on the couch beside her husband as she makes her way over to you. “You’re all out of casserole. Come on, now. Let’s get you fixed back up.”

Your chest tightens as you’re literally pulled to your feet by the determined woman, who quickly leads you into the depths of the kitchen. The words from the two siblings are still just as biting, but slowly the trickle of grandchildren also make their way into the kitchen.

Just another Christmas get-together for them as the grown-ups row.

As Gwen tops your plate to the point of sagging with more food, you watch MacKenna as she settles her younger sister on her hip while holding a hand on top of the toddler’s head.

“You’ve got your hands full,” you manage to say, hoping the smile you offer her isn’t tight with worry as the noise in the living room continues to grow.

The girl shrugs, as much as she can with a one-year-old in her arms. She tracks her siblings as they settle onto the hightop stools and begin to rummage through the lower cabinets.

Josh has his hands out as he tries to delegate between the bickering siblings, but Justin and Marissa just have the peace of mind to leave the scene altogether – also journeying over to the sanctuary of the kitchen.

“Don’t worry,” the eldest brother says to you, leaning on the counter as he carefully pushes his twin sons away from the bowl of Chex mix. “They always get into it when they’re together. Has nothing to do with you.”

“Oh,” is all you can say in return.

“Here, hun,” his wife says to the nine-year-old struggling to hold onto her baby sister any longer. “Give your arms a break.”

With a handful of chips in his mouth, Justin points at his wife, “We’re not having another one.”

She nods congenially, patting the baby’s back with her hand, “I know that.”

Jess is on her feet now, pointing a dangerous finger at Jake, but you feel rooted to the spot because this was never a discussed topic of possible scenarios between the two of you back at the hotel.

“Abandoning your fucking family because you have goddamn daddy issues. Get the fuck over yourself, Jacob!”

For all the hostility his sister throws his way, your companion remains level and coolheaded as always.

He stares up at her with a perfectly blank face, “Can’t go one damn holiday without throwing a tantrum can you?”

Gwen coughs, pulling your attention away for just a moment as she all but shoves a platter of cookies in your face.

“Want one? Got more than the two of us can eat here. I made peanut butter, peppermint, pecan – ”

“ - and you think you can just show up here like it’s all water under the bridge and everything’s fine and dandy just because you have a girl on your arm? That doesn’t make up for the last decade of your shit.”

You take a step toward the living room, where even Josh has shrunken down onto the couch with his head between his hands. Daniel remains completely stock still as he watches the seemingly one-sided fight drag on.

“Just ‘cause you found the first broad to give you the time of day, doesn’t mean you can just waltz in here and – ”

Before you can even register the words, Jake is on his feet.

Staring down at his sister with a heaving chest and balled fists.

You break away from the cluster of family members as you make your way to his side. Tentatively, you reach for his hand – easing his fingers away until you can entwine your hands together. His nostrils flare as words that have been building up since childhood begin to battle their way up to his lips, but it all comes to a halt when you murmur a gentle:

“Baby?”

With a slow turn of his head, he looks down at you – fight dissipating from his eyes as you squeeze his hand. Giving a gentle tug, Jake follows you over to the sliding doors of the back deck.

Behind you, you can hear Josh give an admonishing, “Never known when to close your massive fucking trap, do you?”

But you push aside the door and lead your wingman into the fresh afternoon air before you can hear her likely cutting response.

Having no real idea of the lay of the land, you pull him down the back steps and find yourself traversing a small pebble path around the back of the house. Jake, still in a state of silence, allows you to guide him forward without so much as a peep.

Near the back wooden cattle fence dividing the backyard from the actual farm property, you stop under the shade of a large tree. The billowing branches bring not only cool shade but a sense of privacy away from the prying eyes of the bickering family inside.

Releasing your grip on his hand, Jack takes a few unsteady steps forward before he drops down onto a faded old wooden porch swing. It creaks under his weight but seems sturdy enough as he eases his heels into the ground and pushes back and forth.

You stand there, staring out at the vast fields for a long long moment before you hear your name whispered into the breeze.

Turning back to your wingman, you take a seat beside him, your knees brushing as he continues to make the old swing sway.

Out here, if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine you’re in the cockpit on a smooth return flight. The only noise comes from the gentle breeze drooping over the tall grass that bends like ripples in the water.

But your attention ultimately falls to your friend. With his knuckles gripped white on his knees, his head bowed down with his shoulders hunched high to protect him.

This version of Hangman would never be seen by your squadron, nor would it ever be mentioned.

With a steadying breath, your voice cracking as you force out the words, you say, “I have a soft spot for disco music.”

It takes a second for the words to register, but Jake slowly lifts his head and stares at you with pure confusion.

“What?”

“Disco. It’s my... thing? And I’m swearing you to fucking secrecy, Bagman. But... I belt out ABBA songs when I’m alone. Donna Summers too.”

The making of a grin begins to form on the corner of his lips.

“I’ve got it bad for the Bee Gees.”

His brow raises ever so slightly.

“Do those private serenades also include a dance number?”

With a bark of laughter, you tuck your hands between your knees as he rocks you further back on the wide swing.

“Oh, absolutely.”

When you look up, you find his eyes narrowed and scrutinizing. But not in a harsh way. More like you were a puzzle he was just only now figuring out the missing pieces of.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Giving a shrug, you say, “Because I wanted to. Also, no one will ever believe you.”

There’s a beat of silence before his lips tug up into a radiant smile that has him shaking his head.

“God damnit, you’re right.”

You let your left shoulder bump into his right as his laughter slowly ebbs away to silence once again.

He spares the house a furrowed expression before he lets out a slow exhale of breath.

“This thing,” he starts, twisting his watch back and forth on his wrist. “Between me and Jess, it goes back years.”

“You don’t have to explain it,” you assure him with a soft utterance.

But he presses forward despite it.

“Josh and Justin were already out by the time things got bad. Just me and her in the house. Not that she paid much mind. She was ‘bout to graduate and I was just some snot-nosed ten-year-old.”

He eases into the swing, dipping his head back over the headrest to stare up at the swaying green leaves above the two of you. You find yourself turning to face him, pulling your left knee up onto the seat.

“Mom started drinking ‘round then after she found out he was fucking his bowling buddy. Had been, for the last two years or so. But Jess didn’t know that shit, just saw Mom passed out on the couch with an empty bottle on the floor.”

Jake shakes his head, pushing away the memory.

“They never said it to my face, but I know. I was the save the marriage baby.”

“Jake...”

Offering you a tight grimace, he continues.

“Spoiled as hell, got whatever I wanted and then some. Private school, the works. Brothers didn’t care much, but Jess...” he trails off.

Your hand settles onto his forearm, offering a squeeze of comfort when your own words fail you. He dips his chin in return, welcoming the touch of familiarity.

“That’s what I meant by it the other day. They sided with him and I went along with her because I found out what was really happening. Don’t get me wrong, Gwen’s a good lady and the two of them are better off divorced. But... put a wedge between me and the three of them.”

Clearing your throat, you ask, “Is that why you left to join up?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Couldn’t fucking stand to be around either of them by the time I graduated. Just wanted to start over, do something for myself on my own terms.”

And then he scrubs his palm over his face, wincing as he does so.

“Christ, I don’t know why I’m fucking telling you any of this.”

“I said you didn’t have to, you know,” you nudge him with a teasing tone.

With a look of pure exasperation, he holds his hands out like a confession, “Got me bleeding my heart out here like I’m Freeze or something, Pits.”

“Eh,” you sigh, twisting your body to pull up both of your legs onto the bench – only to deposit them both right across Jake’s lap with little fanfare. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of it.”

Something funny flits over his features for a moment before he places his hand over your calf and resumes his gentle rocking of the swing.

Eventually, you both manage to peel yourselves off the swing and wander back into the house. Jake says something about being completely okay with ditching the whole thing and heading back to the rental car. But you have to remind him that your shoes are still currently lost in the massive pile in the front entryway.

He then tries to convince you to leave them, going so far as to say he’ll buy you a new pair before your flight.

But, reluctant as he is, you walk hand-in-hand back into the house. You get lost in the excitement of the kids who want to open up all their presents right this very second and it seems like, for the moment at least, the fight has been put on hold to allow the true joy of Christmas to take place.

Though Jake and his sister remain on opposite sides of the room for the entire duration of the madness that is eight kids scrambling to unwrap their numerous presents the fastest.

While Justin plays the role of gift hander-outer, Jess lounges on a barstool in the kitchen, watching the mess play out with a stink eye. Jake, for all his hold-ups on the day, also drops to his knees to help the younger nieces unwrap their gifts.

Which leaves you, surprisingly, with a small bundle of drooling baby in your arms since her own mother would rather watch from afar than interact with her own children.

June is happy to suck on the left foot of her new stuffed buddy, lounging out in your lap as you rock the recliner back and forth. Jake shoots you several amused glances before he gets tugged into the decidedly un-fun realm of opening up all the plastic-wrapped toys for the kids.

The living room floor is heaped with wrapping paper and ribbons, loose twist ties, and chunks of cardboard and plastic molds by the time he returns to your side. This time, he’s the one resting on the armrest as he gently taps the snoozing baby’s foot with his fingers.

“Out like a light.”

“No better way to celebrate the day,” you agree.

The sleeping babe must be used to the chaos that is the Seresin family, as her siblings and cousins run amok with their new toys that beep and jingle. Tiny feet thundering against the hardwood floors as they zoom up and down the long hallway separating the living area from the rest of the house.

“Now that’s a picture if I’ve ever seen one.”

You lift your gaze to Gwen as she rounds the corner, a wine glass in hand as she settles in next to Daniel on the couch across from the three of you.

“Think you two will ever settle down stateside?” he asks with a true glimmer of hope in his graveled voice.

Jake winces, hand falling to your inner thigh for support.

“I, uhm, I could never ask Jake to put his career on hold for that,” you find yourself saying.

“Same for you,” he adds a second later.

Gwen, for her part, gives an understanding nod – settling a hand on her husband’s arm to stifle the topic down.

“How long have you two been flying together?”

Your wingman seeks out your gaze as the two of you mentally run through the tangle of memories.

“Three, almost four years now?”

“Mhmm.”

“And what set this all off, if you don’t mind me prying?”

Jake clears his throat, and you have to turn your head to hide the beginnings of laughter that bubble up to the surface. He shifts his weight, draping his right arm over the back of the chair, a finger playfully tugs at the fabric of your shirt.

“It was after a mission debrief. Fourteen hours, dead on our feet,” the story, completely fabricated, comes to him with a true sense of ease.

“And, I dunno. Everyone was shuffling outta the room and I just looked over and saw Pita and thought...”

At the pause, you turn your face to look up at him only to find his softened eyes seeking you out.

“Wow. I can’t have this girl out of my life.”

That piercing expression nearly takes your breath away and you want to applaud Jake for his terrific acting on the fly.

Pulling your gaze back to the seated couple, you add, in jest, “I’m sure my greasy hair and flight suit was what did it for him.”

“Hundred percent!” he grins, tugging a strand of your hair.

At some point, the others filter back into the room and Marissa kindly takes the snoozing June from you. You have to shake out your arms just to return the blood circulation. Who knew kids that little could be that heavy?

And while you get lost in the rushed conversation of two seven-year-olds trying to tell you all about the mechanical workings of their new RC cars, Daniel pushes up from the couch and weaves his way over to Jake, before saying something in his ear. You can feel the way he goes rigid as he slips his arm away from you and slowly stands and follows after his father.

You watch as the two men disappear down the hall, toward one of the bedrooms or office from the looks of it. A cold dredge of worry washes over you, cooling your insides and twisting your stomach into another uncomfortable slosh of concern. He had just started smiling again.

“He’s really got you bad, doesn’t he?”

Pulling your gaze away from the empty hall, you find the piercing eyes of Josh inspecting your face as he leans across his chair to speak to you.

“You. You’re worried about him.”

“Comes with the job,” you say.

A smirk tugs his lips into a twisted look as he too glances down the hallway.

“He’ll be fine. Little testy with whatever Dad’s about to try pulling. Won’t be too surprised if that’s the end of our little visit.”

Your brows pinch, “That bad?”

He chuckles, easing back into his recliner, “Always.”

You try to focus on the happy children occupied with their new toys and the soft lull of the TV sportscaster, but you find your primary focus pulled toward the long empty hallway.

He had told you all about the history between him and his old man, both in the backyard confessional an hour prior and the day you arrived in Austin. Yet now your mind was conjuring up worse and worse scenarios of what was happening in a closed-door room several feet away.

Another few minutes pass where you try your best to ignore what could be transpiring a few yards away, but the sound of a door opening followed by a pleading voice saying:

“Jacob, come on now. Jake. Jake.”

You crane your head just in time to see your companion striding down the hallway, directly toward you – pushing both Justin and Gwen gently out of his way. You’re on your feet by the time he reaches you and before you can even ask are you okay, he’s grabbing hold of your arm.

“Think we’re done here, sweetheart.”

Trying to get a read from his expression alone is useless, so you merely nod in return.

“Okay.”

As Jake directs you toward the entryway once again, with a trail of family members walking a few steps behind you both in silent anticipation, Daniel Seresin finally makes a reappearance.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he just shakes his head in return to his wife’s questioning look.

Hangman can’t seem to move fast enough, even as the nieces creep past you to get to him.

“Are you leaving now, Uncle Jake?”

“When am I gonna see you again?”

He’s halfway between tying his left boot when he looks up at the little faces curled with worry and childhood innocence. Frozen, unable to find the right words to explain his hasty escape as he peers up and over their heads at his father standing silently at the end of the hall.

“Oh, that’s my fault, I’m afraid,” you say, leaning down to grab your own boots as three braided-blonde heads turn to look up at you.

“We need to hurry to the airport to catch our flight, don’t we, honey?”

A flash of gratitude in his eyes and a slow exhale has Jake nodding, quick to play along to your tune.

“That’s right, sweetheart. We have to go see Pita’s family now. Wouldn’t be fair to keep her away on Christmas, yeah?”

Shelby clings to his leg, her face squished into his thigh as she murmurs, “But I’ll miss you.”

Jake shoots you a clear help me look, but your rescue comes in the shape of Josh Seresin who swoops in and collects the five-year-old up into his arms.

“I’m sure you’ll hear from Uncle Jackie soon. Won’t you?”

Your companion gives a fast nod, “That’s right, kiddo. Soon as we’re back on the carrier, I’m gonna call you right up.”

The little girl peers over her uncle’s shoulder and you meet her soft gaze.

“And Pita too?”

Jake almost laughs, but he curves it into a smile instead.

“Yeah, her too, honey.”

Oh, your breakup in a few weeks was gonna be fun to talk through with a kindergartner.

Pushing that thought from your head, you righten your boot into place and fall back into Jake’s easy embrace, his hand finding a too-familiar spot on your waist.

The drive back to the city is shared in silence with only the familiar Christmas tunes from the radio there to fill the void between you both. And even then, the holiday spirit has already seeped out of the vehicle and into the vast countryside. No amount of classic jingles could fix that at this point.

When you arrive back at the hotel, it’s as though you’re waiting for the missile to hit. That weapon of course being Jake himself.

But the man in question is as silent as ever as he drops down onto the edge of his bed. Too tired to even remove his boots as you carefully tread around him to take care of your own shoes.

His silence makes you even more cautious in your moves, tiptoeing across the carpet to your bag and back again. Afraid to make any noise that could set him off. Oh, you could handle the fallout, of course. You’re just not sure if he could at this point.

When you emerge from the bathroom, now dressed in your sleepwear, Jake is lying flat on his back with his legs hanging over the edge. His eyes open and staring, almost unseeing, at the popcorn ceiling.

After spending a moment to assess your situation, you unceremoniously flop down on the bed beside him, a hand plopping down on his right knee.

And there you sit, in the stillness of the hotel room for a series of long-passing minutes. You watch the steady rise and fall of his chest, curling your fingers tighter and then looser on his jean-clad knee. Until, at last, he speaks.

“Should have never did this to you.”

You wait until his eyes land on you before you respond.

“Oh, fuck off, Bagman.”

It takes a second, but he eases up onto his elbows.

“I’m serious. Yesterday with my mom was one thing. But this shit? Today? God,” he drags a hand down his face in annoyance.

Releasing a breath, you lay down beside him on the bed. He stares down at you for a long moment before he falls back down next to you.

“I told you, I don’t care. I agreed to this entire insane endeavor and I told you I was gonna see it through no matter what. So, lose the bullshit grief, and don’t worry about me.”

Tugging on the loose fabric of his seafoam-colored button-down, you give him the space to respond or not. Hell, you were gonna be the last person to try and press the man for anything right now.

“I just...” he exhales, resting a hand on his chest. “I dragged you across the country, away from your own damn family, just to do this.”

Rising up slightly so you can stare down at him, you retort, “Which I agreed to. If I didn’t want to do this for you, do you honestly think you could force me to do any of this? Honestly?”

Jake glances back at the ceiling before a smile graces his lips.

“Hell no.”

“Exactly,” you reply, dropping back down.

“Well... at least it’s over.”

You hum in response.

Come morning, you would take the rental car back to the airport and board separate flights. You up to Michigan and Jake back to California. You would enjoy a family-filled holiday and he would be...

Your stomach turns at the thought.

Alone.

After everything that had transpired over the past forty-eight hours, after all that he was dragged through. Jake would be alone come Christmas day. Alone with his own damn thoughts and whatever reemerged trauma that came with this particular visit produced.

Maybe that’s why, after several more minutes have passed you both by, that you turn toward him and say:

“Do you... I don’t – well, that is to say, uhm...”

You can feel the look he gives you but you have to crane your neck back to properly look him in the eyes. There’s something there in the meadow green of his irises that emboldens you – allowing the words to come easily.

“Jake, would you like to come home with me for Christmas?”

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

#jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #top gun fan fic #series: home for the holidays #my fic

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enthyrea · 1 year

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a commission for @floydsin! they requested the post-superbowl scene from their hangster NFL AU fic, unsportsmanlike conduct!

i absolutely love this fic to bits and i was SO honored to draw this commission !! thank you so much❣️

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horseshoegirl · 24 days

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Set Me Alight: Part 7 - Paint It, Black

📜Life is messy. And complicated. And writer blocky, with a dash of imposter syndrome... I just want to put that out there... Anyway...

Well, the poll won out. You all want to know what Jake said to Midge. This is solely a flashback chapter. I can't say I'm surprised at who you all disliked in the last chapter, though I hope this one will give you some insight into why Midge has held on to this for as long as she has.

Special thank you to @teacupsandtopgun for helping me to write a certain part of this! You can thank her for the puns! And @sarahsmi13s for taking a peak at it!

❗️+18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character (s), Short OFC, Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, flashbacks, Halloween college parties, school, angst, sexual themes (overhearing), drunkness/inxotication. I mentioned angst, right? 💀

#8k <- yes, i know

Part 6 | Masterlist | Part 8

*Halloween Four Years Ago*

Giving orders to a football team to put up Halloween directions was not an easy feat. They were kids in a joke shop, only too happy to take every opportunity to jump-scare each other with a spider, a white sheet or slide out from behind a door and shout boo!

Despite the antics, you were grateful for the help. Nat and you wouldn’t have finished in time. And even then, you suspected Nat probably would have given up halfway through, merely deciding to throw Yellow Caution Tape on the walls and call it a day.

You wouldn’t have stopped - even if it became a doomed effort.

Bradley’s friends weren’t what you expected them to be. True, their appearance fit the bill a thousand times over. Tall, broad shoulders and bulging muscles were all the product of hard work - including Bob, who was smaller than the rest, though not by much. Even their mannerisms, from how they acted childish and goofy to how they winked or playfully flirted, everything you saw played into the stereotypical type that was the classic college football jock.

Then you got to know them—really know them—and hated yourself for ever associating them as such.

You already knew Bradley and had met him on occasion. When he stayed over to be with Nat, he was often up before you, and you’d chat with him over a cup of coffee. He always brought her a cup to wake her up when he could, and it always made you smile.

His story was a sad one. His father passed away when he was only two years old, leaving his mom to raise him alone. While he couldn’t regale you with his memories of him, he instead offered you the stories attached to his father’s things: a button-up Hawaiian shirt in pale pastels, a pair of coffee-brown Ray Ban sunglasses, and even a worn Milk chocolate leather-strapped bag he used to lug his books around campus.

Then, his mom passed away in high school, and his father’s best friend took him up until the point decided to leave for school. Bradley chose his words carefully when he spoke of any of them, offering little, and you wondered if the loss was still too much for him to bear.

Or something else had happened, and he didn’t want anyone to know.

But as you helped him blow up a few balloons for the floor, a song from a later decade played through the speakers, and Bradley lit up, producing a smile wider than the nearby Jack-o-lantern. He launched into a story about how much his parents loved music and how his father would play the piano, which alone made him want to learn.

You asked him if and when he did if he’d play for you one day.

Javy Machado, however, couldn’t be more different from Bradley if he tried.

He was just as meticulous as you when it came to detail. The two of you were discussing the best way to tape Velcro to the kitchen cupboards to stick fluff to the sides and mimic cobwebs when you discovered this fact. He was … quietly smooth and persuasive, with a suave smile that indicated he could charm his way into or out of any situation he wanted without needing to flirt or play it thick.

“Angle it like this, Maeve,” he had explained, stretching the piece out. “Principle of maximum contact area equals maximum adhesive stretch.”

You had raised your eyebrows at that remark, which prompted him to chuckle softly.

"Science major," he shrugged with that smile, making your internal monologue stutter to a halt until you went, "Wait... What?!"

He only laughed at your reaction, amused in a way like he’d been expecting it. But it was that look of genuine interest in his eyes that made you ask him properly.

He didn't know what field of science to specialize in, but Javy made all of it sound amazing. From stars to not dirt—it's soil—to understanding how the world worked, he knew he wanted to spend his life trying to figure it all out. If he could throw a ball around and be part of a team with his friends, he considered himself fortunate to do both.

Even if his passion was so far removed from your own, you may have seen some of yourself in his journey, trying to fit in while doing what you loved most.

Holding up a string of lights against the wall, Reuben Flitch told you he was floating through school, waiting for the day he could finally be free. On that day, he’d take over his family’s business. Comparing him to the fractured story of your brother and sister following in your parent’s footsteps never seemed to cross your mind.

Because when you asked what the business was, his face lit up with an enthusiasm you hadn’t expected.

“My grandparents own vineyards," he had beamed. "They've been in the family for generations. I've grown up with the land, the grapes, and the entire winemaking process."

He told you stories of growing up, playing through the vines and rows of trellises, making you long for the rows of apple trees at Aunt Viv's. He also talked about spending time with his grandfather, learning the process of pressing grapes and his grandmother tending and picking the grapes. He spoke about the people, everyone from the gardeners to the people who bottled the wine to his siblings, with whom he'd played hide-and-seek within the cellars.

He told you a business major was worth it, as much as he loathed it, if he could own the place one day.

You hoped he did.

But Mickey Garica and Bob Floyd were... characters, to say the least. It was easy to talk with them, even laugh with them, as the three of you spread tiny black spiders all over the apartment.

Mickey couldn’t stop asking if you could paint him one day, though you imagined it would be fandom-inspired rather than a realistic portrait. The second you asked him about his favourite universe, he launched into a word vomit of praise for each and every one. He spoke of Lord of the Rings, Marvel, Star Wars, Star Trek, and Batman—not DC—as the character deserved to be separated from the rest.

It made you wonder if the one portrait would be enough. Still, you happily humoured him, saying you needed the practice.

He was in Health Sciences, hoping it would be enough to get his foot in the door to become a firefighter. He talked about it so passionately, about being capable of making a difference and saving lives, that you honestly couldn’t see him in any other role.

And given the opportunity, Bob was so full of sass and witty comebacks to the ones you managed to throw his way, you were surprised he was seeking an Anthropology and Archaeology degree. He seemed to have a natural talent for what Comedians had labelled “crowd work.” You honestly would have taken him for a drama major had he not told you differently.

However, once he explained his choice, you understood why. Growing up, having been a Boy Scout, learning about nature, rocks, and life. He wanted to know more about life, history, and how things were.

A visit to an archeological dig site in high school sold it for him. His eyes lit up when he spoke about ancient civilizations, lost artifacts, and all the mysteries surrounding human evolution. He rattled off facts about Neanderthals and cave paintings, which had you urging him for more.

He happily obliged and was encouraging when you offered a few that you knew of.

All of them were so passionate about what they wanted to do with their lives, even Bradley, who wanted to pursue football seriously as a career; you admired all of them for it with your entire heart.

But Jake Seresin was... you didn’t know. Nor did he, it seemed.

Jake was there at your side every time you went back up that ladder, claiming someone needed to catch you should you fall again. You had rolled your eyes, a slight smirk gracing your face, but you let him all the same.

He wasn’t as open as the others, wanting to flirt with you more than anything else. Somehow, you managed to get him talking about football, and when you asked him why he played, he admitted that his father had gone and played at the school. He had been urged to apply, and his family would support him throughout his entire ride.

“Family money,” he said, his tone light when you gawked at him. You didn’t ask what his parents did, but knowing he came from a rich family, you wondered if he didn't want people to know. You certainly didn't. Nat didn’t know, at least not yet.

It prompted him to add his parents weren’t pressuring him into one career or another; they simply wanted him to keep up with the sport. So, he was buying time and taking electives, trying to figure it out, though he would have to make a decision soon.

And it made you wonder, under that confidence, under that layer of charm and ease on his surface, if he was searching for what everyone else in the group had already found. While everyone else didn’t fit the stereotype, you wondered if Jake was attempting to mould himself into it.

How you wished to tell him, he didn’t have to.

But Jake wasn’t a painting you could tear apart or theorize about. And as you pinned that last streamer to the ceiling, you realized over the course of the afternoon, you’d unwittingly developed a bit of a crush on him.

You weren’t stupid. You recognized the signs the second he caught you off that ladder. The second he handed you that shot. He was laying on the charm, the flirty glances, the playful smiles. Even the slight touches on your waist as you leaned back, pining streamers to the ceiling, were waving the red flags in your head.

Jake was either genuinely interested or actively looking for someone to hook up with tonight.

It wouldn’t be you, that’s for sure—not even for someone so charming and handsome as Jake Seresin.

In the last two hours, the guys took turns getting ready first while everyone else finished with the final touches. They wanted you and Natasha to go first, but you vehemently refused, knowing they’d ruin hours of hard work if left unsupervised.

You also wanted to see this through to the end, but you kept that to yourself. You had revealed enough of your quirky, artsy side to them. You did not need to add to it by gushing over the decorations or how the entire apartment turned out, possibly damaging whatever relationship you'd established so far.

People were weird when it came to shit like that.

Jake and Bradley emerged from Nat’s bedroom just as the two of you were headed toward yours. The hallway was already lit in a deep red from the lights now neatly strung up in the corners of the ceiling. Though the sun was beginning to set, shining warm light through your window, you knew the total effect would be entirely eerie when night rolled around. You couldn’t wait to see it.

Bradley was dressed as Indiana Jones: a white shirt, a brown leather jacket, and a fake whip at his side. His outfit was complementary to Nat's Marion Ravenwood, her costume the classic white dress from the first movie you spent a while making. Though she did ask you to take some creative liberties with the design, the dress was more risque than necessary.

The only thing remotely movie-accurate about it would be the puffy sleeves.

You couldn't help but whistle when Jake stepped out from behind Bradley. Instantly perking up at the noise, he let out a sly smirk and straightened the lapels of his deep black leather jacket.

"Danny Zuko, huh?" you laughed softly. "Guess you've got the whole 'bad boy' vibe down."

Jake smirked at you, copying one of the iconic character's signature moves by sliding his hands into his black leather jacket pockets as he strode by. "Only missing my Sandy. You wouldn't happen to know where I could find one, would you?"

You coyly peered at him over your shoulder as you continued down the hall. Unknown to either of you, Nat and Bradley had stopped to watch the interaction, filled to the brim with curiosity.

"Wouldn't know. I'm more of a Rizzo myself. Too much sass and not enough patience for leather pants."

"To get into them or to get out?"

With a glimmer in your eyes and a smirk on your lips, you pivoted to face Jake completely, still walking backwards. “You're quite the smooth talker, aren’t you?”

Jake shrugged, giving off the vibe of, ‘I can’t help my reputation.’ However, you could see the easy grin on his face, and one side of his mouth crooked upwards, making him appear boyish—just like the character he was dressed up as.

It made your heart flutter inside your chest.

“It’s a shame I’m more into the rough-around-the-edges type,” you teased softly, pausing by the corner.

Liar. Oh, you horrible liar.

Jake’s grin didn’t disappear when you saw him press his tongue to the inside of his cheek, arching an eyebrow. Instead, it turned into a knowing smirk.

“Is that so?” he teased.

You flushed, at a loss for words. Jake's teasing gaze lingered, and the lift in the corner of his mouth suggested he saw right through your lie. Your cheeks burned hot.

Jake's chuckle echoed softly down the hallway as you made your escape, somehow making your heart race faster. You didn't dare look back, but you could feel his eyes on you as you turned the corner and down the hallway to your bedroom.

As Jake retreated back into the apartment, Bradley coughed lightly. He exchanged a knowing look with Nat, who had been watching your retreat. He jutted his head once toward you, and Nat replied in kind with a single tilt of her head toward Jake.

They didn’t need to say aloud what they were thinking. They’d talk about what they discovered later, but it wouldn’t stop them from pressing this interesting development further.

When she reached your room, Nat found you already in your robe, sitting at your vanity, brushing your hair. You had already laid out your costumes on your bed earlier in the day, and Nat raced to hers the second she saw it, making grabby hands at the fabric.

"Ahh, it turned out so great, Maeve!" she exclaimed, grabbing the top and holding it up. You glimpsed at her through the reflection of your mirror, smiling when she hugged it to her chest.

“If I had made it any deeper, Nat, you’d be showing off more than just dangly bits.”

She blew a raspberry at you. You giggled, shaking your head.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to do couples costumes. I never thought Bradley would go for it,” she said after a while, standing next to you and straightening her hair in the mirror of your vanity.

“Really?” you asked, concentrating on not poking your eye out with your mascara.

“How else am I going to shoo off all the girls practically clamouring to get with Bradley? It’s a nice way to do it, don’t you think?”

“Maybe. Not every costume as a twin, though,” you said, lowering your hand to gesture to yourself. You hoped Nat would at least acknowledge the effort you’d made or pep you up for a party you'd originally never wanted to hold.

“What about the Danny wandering around the apartment ‘without his Sandy’?”

You dropped your hand from where you had started fixing up your other eye, glaring at her reflection in your mirror. “Really, Nat?”

“What, you don’t dream of a little Summer Lovin?”

You felt your face flush. As if Jake would ever really go for someone like you. “It’s Halloween, Nat.”

“Exactly. It’s Halloween, and it’s getting colder. Maybe you’ve got chills, and maybe they're multiplying.”

You groaned, dropping your head and smacking it against your vanity.

“You’re sure he’s not the one you want?” she bumped you with her hip, grinning.

“Can you stop with the Grease puns? Please,” you squawked.

Nat laughed, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger as she stepped away. "Okay, okay. But if you change your mind, I think Danny Zuko out there wouldn't mind being 'the one that you want.'"

Fingers wrapping around the handle of your hair brush, you didn’t lift your head from the vanity as you chucked it in Nat’s direction. She laughed hard, and you didn’t need to look to know you had missed her completely.

Nat eventually cajoled you into helping her slip into her dress, adjusting bits and pieces of fabric here and there. You sat back down at your vanity as she twirled once in the mirror, declaring she was satisfied. Then her eyes went to the door, and her attention shifted to Bradley and what waited beyond it.

"Are you okay if I go out? Do you need any help?" Nat's voice was laced with excitement, and her eyes gleamed with anticipation of finally having a party as she smoothed down the sides of her dress.

You shook your head, leaning back in your chair. Nat didn’t meet your gaze. "No, I'm good. I only need to touch up my makeup, and my dress is a slip-on," you smiled. "Go make sure Bradley keeps his hat on."

Nat wiggled her shoulders, biting her lip to mute her squealing giggle. The puffy sleeves of her short dress waved with her, and she precariously tip-toed out the door on her high heels. Once in the hallway, she dramatically yelled, "Come and get me, Indiana Jones!"

You stifled a giggle, shaking your head, allowing yourself to turn back to face your mirror.

Staring at yourself, you searched every part of your face, making sure your foundation, blush, eyes, and lips were just how you wanted them to be. You toyed with a strand of curled hair, wondering if what you had done was enough—if all of it had been enough.

Then your eyes came to rest on your costume, so carefully draped across the end of your bed through the reflection in the mirror.

You're not sure why "Flaming June" happened to be your favourite painting, though you supposed it had to do with the girl in the painting so casually draped across that seat next to that fountain. She was curled up almost like a serpent, covered in sheer transparent vibrant orange, the painting's only bright pop of colour.

The painting was supposedly meant to depict nymphs, sleeping Greek nymphs for that matter, or even Victorian society's obsession with beauty. However, you argued differently in the paper you wrote for it.

You cared more about the juxtaposition of fire and tranquillity in the piece than about whatever cultural influence or social construct it had at the time. That one girl was at the centre of the painting, wrapped in sheer, see-through colour. She was meant to be the focus; that much was certain.

Maybe you thought her dress signified the chaos of the world around her, and all she wanted to do was find a moment of peace.

You’d spent countless hours at the fabric store trying to match the correct shade. Once you had completed parts of Nat's, you spent even countless more at your sewing machine, staying up late to make progress on yours.

And each time she asked you to make alternations on hers, the more drastic you made it to be ‘just that much sluttier', the more you thought about what you could do to yours. In the end, the thin straps holding up your dress, revealing bare shoulders and the long slit between your breasts, ending just before your belly button, was all you could stomach.

You held the dress up, contemplating your thoughts. You could do this. You could survive one simple Halloween party - one simple college rager party.

Right?

———

The second the apartment was starting to flood with arriving guests, Jake realized you hadn’t emerged from your room with Nat.

He had been off to the side near a bookcase, talking with Bradley, hoping to stave off the crowd and the rest of the football team for a little longer. He knew they'd want to talk football and strategies for the season, and Jake simply... didn't.

He wanted a night off. He wanted to relax and have a good time. And talking about football wouldn't be it.

Bradley had said something to Jake, but he hadn’t been paying attention. He was too busy searching the gathering pods of people for your face. Why, he didn’t know. But he was eager to find out.

Bradley snapped his fingers in Jake's face, startling him from his search. "Earth to Jake!"

Jake shook his head, focusing back on Bradley. "Sorry, what?"

Bradley raised his eyebrows under the rim of his fedora. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Jake regarded him for a few seconds before finally looking down at his drink, bringing it to his lips, admitting, "I'm just looking for Maeve."

As Jake took a drink, Bradley grinned. "She's probably still getting ready. Nat said her costume was based on her favourite panting."

Jake didn't even look up from his drink when he asked, "What's her favourite painting?"

"Why? You looking to make a good impression?" he said, still grinning.

"Fuck off, Man," Jake snapped, taking another swig to finish his drink. Bradley only laughed, now shaking his head. He would have let Jake simmer in his ask, but this was you. He had to give Jake at least a decent running chance.

"It's Flaming June, the chick in the orange dress. It's a brilliant costume idea. She made it herself."

Of course, you would have made it yourself, Jake thought.

"Surely you came across that painting with your 'rich upbringing.' Nat was practically force-feeding information down our throats a few seconds ago to ensure we recognized her costume. It’s some Freddie Luigui piece. I don't know."

"I know it," Jake snapped. "I've seen it before."

Jake was pretty sure he had, maybe once at one of his father's fundraising parties, though he actively searched his mind, trying to remember what it looked like.

Bradley remained silent, slouching against the bookcase and crossing one leg over the other. He narrowed his eyes at his friend and tilted his head.

"Why the sudden interest in Maeve? She isn't one for..." Bradley trailed off, searching for the correct word. Just as Jake was about to ask him what he meant, Nat's approaching heels on the hardwood floor stopped them both.

She stopped at Bradley's side, red solo cup in hand, looping her arm through his. "What are you two handsome boys gossiping about over here?" she giggled at her boyfriend, her chin plopping lazily down onto his bicep. "See any snakes in the crowd, Indy?"

Bradley pulled his face back into a grimace, reciting the famous line. "Snakes. Why does it always have to be snakes?"

Jake rolled his eyes at their banter, placing his empty cup on the table between them. Nat giggled, tilting her head back, indicating to Bradley she wanted to be kissed. He complied without protest, leaning down, pressing his lips to hers in an overly dramatic display merely to piss Jake off.

"Get a room," Jake groaned, mocking a wrenching noise. The couple separated, turning to Jake with amused smirks. "You've heard and seen far worse, dude."

Jake shuttered, the unwanted memory of walking in on Nat and Bradley from weeks ago flashing through his mind. Sharing an apartment with Bradley had its moments - some good, some decidedly less so. It made him wonder if Maeve had to put up with the same shit he did.

“Where’s Maeve?” Jake asked Nat, ignoring Bradley's remark. "I haven't seen her yet."

Nat opened her mouth, about to tell him you were still getting ready, when she caught sight of a flash of orange stepping out from behind the corner of the hallway. You came into view, your head angled down, mindful of stepping on your dress as thin streams of transparent fabric trailed behind you at your sides.

Javy let out a low-toned whistle from somewhere in the room, and heads turned, one by one, as you took your final step into the apartment.

“Damn girl, you clean up nice!”

Lifting your head, you were surprised to see eyes on you. Javy glided forward to greet you from where he had been standing at a nearby table, and you smiled at him, though a little weary. Deep down, you knew his comment was meant to be a compliment. But something coarse, like sandpaper, rubbed against your heart at the remark, lingering longer than you would have liked.

“What? Not bad for a fine arts major?” you joked somewhat deprecatively, though your voice held none of it.

Javy held out his hand, and you grabbed it, allowing him to lift it above your head. With a pump of his wrist, he urged you to spin under his arm several times, letting your dress fan out. You giggled as he urged you, though you wobbled on your heels. The dreaded things were Nat's only contribution to your outfit, and you were severely regretting it.

He let you go, thinking you had your footing on the last, slowed spin. But when you came to a stop, you were on the verge of falling over, your head dizzy, and your legs unbalanced.

To his credit, Javy tried to reach out and steady you, already regretting the step he took back. However, before he could, another pair of hands, one on your hip and one taking your hand, steadied you.

Jake’s hands were firm on your skin, pulling you close as you lost your balance. You fell into his chest, head tilted back, half falling over. And looking up at his face, seeing the amused grin on his lip, you drew in a sharp breath at the sight.

"Letting me make a good first impression?" he quipped.

“By catching falling women?” you laughed breathlessly, bringing your free hand to his chest. If you had let your hand stall slightly longer than necessary, you would have never admitted to it.

“Seems noble enough,” he replied, helping you to stand. Though he might have let go of your hand, he didn’t let go of your waist. “Or do you make it a habit to test the reflexes of every guy you meet?”

You couldn’t resist the playful jab. “Only the ones who seem like they can handle it. And the pretty ones.”

Jake's grin widened, and he even risked sneaking a quick peek at your lips, letting them rest there for a few seconds before his eyes roamed the rest of your body.

"Flaming June, right? Frederic Leighton's Masterpiece."

You blinked in surprise, letting out a small gasp. You honestly expected to tell people what your costume was, not just some girl in some random orange dress. Jake's knowledge of the painting, let alone his identification of it so quickly, was scoring him some major brownie points.

"You know your art," you commented nonchalantly.

He shrugged, "I might know a thing or two. I always had a thing for the classics. By the way, it suits you."

You practically preened under his gaze. "Thank you," you said, a shy smile creeping onto your face. He beamed at you in return.

Yes, you might have a crush on him. But for the first time that day, you figured it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

—-

This was a bad idea - Oh, this party was such a bad idea.

Believing you were having a good time and actually having a good time were two separate things. You certainly felt one of those things. As the night went on, and with each drink you tipped back, alcoholic or not, regret built in your stomach.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. Maybe you were seeking reasons where there initially were none, allowing Natasha’s suggestions to slowly chip away at your resolve until you finally gave in. Maybe it was the promise of letting loose, to embrace the spirit of Halloween with all its creative potential.

Maybe it was the promise of making new friends. Of getting to know people outside the art department. Natasha had told you to mingle. She wanted you to mingle, and yet... you didn’t know where to start.

You didn't expect Nat or Bradley to coddle you, but they could have introduced you to a few people besides the core group before things had gotten this bad. You didn't dare approach Javy or Rueben, who played beer pong and chugged beers back like it was nobody's business. They were off doing their own thing, and you didn’t want to intrude.

Mickey and Bob had gone home earlier in the night. Bob proclaimed he had a midterm to study for, and Mickey wanted to go home anyway so he could call his family in peace. You strongly suspected he wanted to watch Halloween movies instead.

Rocky Horror sounded like a wonderful idea right about now.

You couldn’t hang around Nat and Bradley all night, either. And nobody from your art classes would even dare set foot inside a party where nearly half of its guests were from the sororities.

You knew that. While you did extend the invitation, you told them you wouldn't blame them if they didn't come. They had looked at you with such disregard you wondered if they were seeing you through newly polished rose-coloured glasses. And standing up against the wall next to your bookcase, like an insipid wallflower, you could hardly blame them for it either.

You couldn’t introduce yourself in a place where you were the outsider, even within the walls of your own home. Soon after the first few attempts, that realization settled deep into your chest. And you couldn’t help but feel like you had done this to yourself - an attempt to be part of something like this, even if just for a night.

But Jake… Jake was still here. At least, he should be. He had been by your side for the beginning of the evening, talking to you about what projects you were currently working on over another drink—not whiskey—after you had started to hiccup while putting up decorations.

After he recognized your dress, you weren’t ashamed to tell him. You had launched into the ideas and thoughts behind two paintings and one sculpture, an old table that you were trying to turn into an elemental-type sundial. You told him about the zodiac signs you had already burned into the wood after sanding it down and how each was placed in its own little section as it related to its element.

You had reached halfway through your thought process when you realized how lost you were in your explanation. You froze mid-sentence, blushing harder than the colour of your dress.

"Sorry," you had said. "I ramble when I get excited about my art.”

But Jake’s interest hadn’t waned. If anything, it urged him to ask, “How did you find something you're so passionate about? Creating things... making art?"

His question had made you pause, though not over what to say but merely how to say it. “It was my voice when words fell short or my escape when the world grew too loud.”

You caught a glimpse of something in Jake’s eyes—a flash of longing, a momentary crack in his confident demeanour. What followed was a slight nod. It was there, and then it wasn’t, as if he’d accidentally revealed more of himself than he wanted. Then he caught himself, suddenly straightened his spine, and continued the conversation as if that brief lapse in judgment never happened in the first place.

Ten minutes later, he excused himself to get another drink. And you hadn’t seen him since.

You scanned the room for him, hoping to spot that black leather jacket among the sea of people. But it was impossible. Under the dim, eerie glow of the lights, each costume blurred into the next, and the crowd swallowed any hope of finding him.

Reaching for whatever mixed drink Nat had made you earlier off the table, you pushed yourself off the wall, weaving through the throngs of people, figuring you might as well try to see if she knew where he had run off to.

Liquid sloshed over the rim of your cup onto your hand as you dodged a zombie here, a fairy there, and music pulsing like a heartbeat through the packed room. Laughter and snippets of conversations swirled around you as you scanned the sea of faces, both masked and not for Nat.

Glasses clinked, a witch cackled, and the scent of spiced pumpkin mingled somewhere in the mix with the tang of alcohol and body sweat. By the time you spotted her leaning heavily against the kitchen Island, red cup in hand and her laughter too loud, eyes slightly unfocused, you knew the night had taken its toll on her sobriety.

She was too preoccupied with telling a bunch of people a story to notice how you quickly launched the contents of your cup into the sink behind her. You extended your arm when you were close enough, looping your arm around her waist. Her arm came up at the same time, sliding across your back to pull you close.

Nat tilted her head back onto her shoulders, glancing at you with happy eyes. "Maeve!" she whined tipsily.

Given how far gone she was, you were surprised at how accurately she pronounced your name. She bent slightly, still holding her red Solo cup in her hand, to hug you tight, her face smooshing into your neck.

“It looks like you’re having the time of your life,” you snorted. She nodded against your skin, biting her lip in a smile with a happy, drunken snigger. She lazily pulled back to meet your eye, and you smiled at her.

“Have you seen Jake around?”

Nat paused, her gaze flickering around the room as if she'd genuinely forgotten about him, though she didn’t lift her head off your body. "Jake? Oh, I haven't seen him in a bit,” she slurred slightly. “Why? Do you two likeeeeeeeeeeeeeee each other? Is Jake going to make you scream grease lightin’?”

You reached for her red Solo cup and pried it from her hand. “Okay, yup, you're cut off.”

“Nooo,” she pouted her arm a dead weight as she tried to take it back. Her hand hit the bottom of the cup, and liquid shot up, once again covering your hand in whatever type of alcohol Nat managed to mix together. You could only sigh.

“Here comes the fun police,” she muttered under her breath. “I thought you’d be off doing your own thing.”

Well, that fucking stung just a tiny bit.

“I’m not going to be the one who cleans up your vomit tomorrow morning, Nat.”

“I’ve only had,” she held up her hand, widening her thumb and pointer finger probably further apart than she thought, “this much to drink.”

“Ahm...”

Luckily for you, Bradley appeared, having seen what was going on. He looked amused yet concerned as he slid between the gap of the island and Nat to observe his girlfriend babbling nonsense on your shoulder. “What’s happening here?”

Nat made another grab for her cup, but Bradley gently intercepted her, taking her hand into his before she could even grasp it.

“That,” you offered.

“I think it’s time we get you to bed, love,” he suggested, wrapping an arm around her waist. You let him take her, happy for him to bear her weight.

Nat leaned into him, mumbling something incoherent, a mix of protest and agreement. Bradley spared a glance at you, silently thanking you in your unspoken agreement. You nodded, watching as he sandwiched her to his side and carried her off towards her room.

It always seemed like one of you was always taking care of her. At one point or another.

After getting rid of Nat’s cup, you felt the sticky residue of both of your spilled drinks on your skin and felt the urge to run to the privacy of the bathroom to wash it off. Stumbling down the hallway, blusters on your feet finally making themselves known, you let your hands casually slide along the wall. The music from the party faded into a muffled, dull noise as you walked.

You wanted to smile at the lights. The red eerie glow along the top corners of the ceiling only reached not even halfway down the wall, plunging the floor into a dark abyss. You clumsily stuttered through it, unable to see anything below your waist.

It was exactly as you pictured it, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to manage the slightest grin.

The bathroom door was down at the end of the hall slightly ajar, with the red LED light illuminating its edges from behind. You zoned in on it like a wobbly arrow to a target, tired and completely done with tonight and everything about it.

You reached for the curved handle, about to push the door open, when a high-pitched giggle came from behind the piece of wood. You shot your hand back like you had been burned, and with a quick turn of your heel, you plastered your back up against the wall.

You immediately knew what was happening behind that door, and it made you throw up in your mouth just a little.

Ugh, I’m going to have to disinfect the hell out of that bathroom tomorrow.

The next voice you heard, however, made your heart drop into your stomach.

“You like that, don’t ya, sweetheart?”

You didn't want to believe it, but you had to see for yourself. Leaning forward off the wall, you peered through the crack in the door, only to spot a black leather jacket taking up most of your view—the same black jacket you had complimented Jake on earlier that day. It was a stark contrast to the red glowing light above him, and something snapped in your heart and recoiled back as one slender bare leg in beige fishnet stockings wrapped around his.

There was an overly drunken and seductive 'ahm,' forcing you to glance over his shoulder at the girl he was with—her costume was a bejewelled Taylor Swift outfit to match her long blonde hair.

You swallowed your bile and adverted your gaze, pressing yourself back up against that wall, out of sight and hidden completely from view.

You knew this was a possibility; Jake was merely looking for a hookup and nothing more. You had considered it all afternoon. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel utterly hurt at the sight.

"I mean, Nat's pretty clever befriending that girl.. what was her name, Maeve?" the girl snickered.

"I know. It sounds like something out of those weird fantasy books everyone loves." A whimper from his companion followed Jake's breathy and muffled laugh.

At the dig, your hand went to your chest, your heart thudding painfully under your palm. The realization they had been talking about you, about Nat, made tears flood your eyes.

You didn't understand it. Or maybe you did, and you were too blinded by the possibility of someone like him, someone like Nat, Bradley, Bob, Mickey, and Rueben, to beat the fucking pyramid scheme and care about someone like you.

What other explanation was there except the fact you had been blinded by those who proved to be the exception? Blinded by the fucking elementary school crush cause he had flirted, smiled, joked, and maybe even showed some half-decent interest in you. Clearly, the second he figured out you weren’t going to hook up with him, he sought his sights on someone else.

Jake wasn’t trying to mould into the stereotype. He was the fucking stereotype.

"Even her costume," she sneered. "Like, who the fuck dresses up like that for a college rager Halloween party? You're supposed to dress up slutty."

You couldn't speak, staring down the front of your dress to what you had thought had been a risky enough slit. You couldn't even breathe.

"You kidding me?" he laughed lowly. "Bradley was practically screaming at us what she dressed up as. I'd have no fucking clue what she was otherwise. I'd guess some random Greek Godness obsessed with that awful shade of orange."

Your hand slid up from your chest, around your throat to feel your harsh, rough swallow. Only it didn’t stop there, suddenly finding yourself wrapping it around your entire mouth, stifling any noise wanting to escape. Through shaky inhales in and out of your nose, you fought hard to stop yourself from crying over this.

Over him. Over a fucking jock who would say anything to hook up with a girl. Only to get his dick wet.

But you couldn't prevent the tears from welling up in your eyes, or from one finally spilling over, dropping down your cheek only to stall there, or how the hand covering your mouth curled up around your cheekbone, only to stroke away the tear.

You refused to look back at the door through the crack, so you fixed your gaze on the darkness consuming the ground. And as you lowered your hand, you caught the ugly black smear marring your skin.

How could you not? Standing in the glow of that red hallway light, it was the only thing you could see.

The artistic irony hits you like a freight train. Here you were, dressed as the girl in your favourite painting. Her dress had been the only bright shade of colour in the entire painting, and you, standing in the top half glow of bright red LED lights, had failed to notice what had been staring you in the face all along.

Orange was muted by red, and black bled through all. The only thing about you that stood out the entire evening was this tiny black mark scarring the back of your hand—black tears from smeared mascara.

"I would have guessed an orange," the girl snickered, quickly followed by a mewl. "Though she practically blended into the wall, I couldn't see her with the lights."

Lips plucking on skin echoed off the title and out the door, and Jake drew in a ragged breath as he agreed. "She did blend right into the fucking wall, didn’t she?"

Your eyes burned. The girl giggled.

“How long do you think this one will stay? She seems… different, to say the least.”

Jake sniggered. “Seriously, you think Natasha Trace is hanging around that girl out of the goodness of her heart?”

His laugh was so full of malice that it was nothing like the ones you had heard pleasantly filling your ears earlier.

“Everyone knows after what Nat did, she needs an image clean up. Playing the saint, befriending the weird loner art girl, giving her the best friend badge?”

“If she thinks she’s got a place in the big leagues, she’s in for a rude awakening,” the girl murmured. “Pathetic. People like her don’t belong with people like us.”

There was a pause. “It’s just like Natasha, though. She always needs an audience, something to validate her feelings. It’s brillant really.”

Jake's agreement was a silent blow, his next words the dagger. "Nat's smart. She knows how to play the game. Maeve's just...convenient."

Convenience. The word echoed in your mind, bouncing off the walls of your already crumbling self-worth.

“Give it a year. Trace is going to drop her the second the next new shiny person comes along. And everyone is going to forget about the little art girl she used up and discarded. Or she’ll become the most hated girl on campus.”

Without your back up against the wall, his words might have made you crumble into that dark abyss.

“Can we stop talking about her now?” the girl whined. “I thought you promised to get me off.”

Jake chuckled lowly, the sound morphing into a low, predatory growl. “You brought her up, sweetheart. But don’t worry—I’m all yours now.”

You pushed yourself away from that wall, stumbling down the dark hallway to your bedroom out of instinct, refusing to subject yourself to any further torture. But just before your door, you fell into the wall, your shoulder throbbing as you slouched against it.

The world around you swirled, leaving you consumed by one thought—and one thought alone.

That. Fucking. Asshole! How dare he! How fucking dare he!

To hear Natasha be demeaned, your friendship demeaned and used as a stepping stone in pursuit of a meaningless hookup... anger boiled under your skin. You didn’t care what he or what they had said about you, but Nat?

If Jake thought he’d succeed in sweet-talking you, to play you like a puppet on a string, just as he assumed Nat had been doing, he had another thing coming. If he was going to talk shit about your friendship with her, you’d show him just how spineless you could be.

Oh, he’d wish he’d never caught you off that fucking ladder. Wished he had never met you and flirted with you, obviously a ploy to find someone to hook up with. You gagged at ever having a crush on him in the first place.

But as you leaned against the wall, trying to steady your swirling thoughts, doubt wormed its way into your mind.

What if he was right?

What if your friendship with Nat was just a convenience, a way for her to maintain her status or recover from her sorority fallout? You knew nothing of it, nothing more than what she told you. There could be more to the story, things she hadn’t revealed, things nobody else had either.

No, you shook your head, trying to dismiss the thought. Nat had been there for you in ways no one else had.

Jake was just an asshole. Plain and simple.

But then another thought sucker punched you in the gut.

You couldn’t tell anyone else what he said. You wouldn’t be responsible for causing that type of drama within a friend circle, one that long before you ever showed up. They never would have believed you anyway, and Nat… she worked so hard to get out, escape the rumours and gossip, to put it behind her. She didn’t need to know about this.

You had no choice but to carry this burden alone. It was a lonely decision, but perhaps loneliness was a small price to pay for the semblance of harmony among friends—or so you tried to convince yourself.

But Jake. You could no longer give a rat’s ass about Jake. If he wanted to attack Nat, then fine. You hit him right back. That much you could still do.

Whatever had possessed Frederic Leighton to name the piece you currently embodied, “Flaming June,” whatever possessed him to gift that girl with fire in her name, that fire was suddenly born in you.

A flame that sparked and kerosened your soul to burn, hot and bright. It was a wildfire that rushed under layers of skin and ignited every nerve, ending with a ferocity you never knew you possessed. It was born to protect what you had found - Nat, Bradley, Bob, Mickey, Javy and Rueben. And that fucking asshole would never be allowed to put you down, Nat down, like your family did, ever again.

Pushing yourself off the wall, you stepped into your bedroom. Slamming the door, the lock clicked hard into place.

It never opened the rest of the night.

NOW YOU KNOW....

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topguncortez · 5 months

Text

I Still Love You - Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey

opposites attract masterlist || main masterlist

synopsis: Y/N goes out on her first date in. . . in a while. She struggles with her feelings as if it is time to start moving on, or if she wants to fight for things with Jake.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of cheating

Y/N didn’t know what she was doing.

She couldn’t remember the last time she went on date. Things had changed a lot since she was active in the dating pool. Dates were no longer big events where you shaved every crevice of your body, went out and bought a new dress, spent hours doing your hair and make-up, where picked up at your house and greeted with flowers and taken to some fancy restaurant across town. No, dating now was going to a local bar for a drink or two with some guy you had matched with on some dating app.

Y/N felt her hands shake as she looked over her shoulder as the bell above the door rang. She was extremely early to her drink date, a whole half hour early to be exact. But the nerves had gotten the better of her, and she didn’t want to show up late. Now she sat looking completely out of place in this swanky bar on the east side of San Diego. It was far enough away that she knew it would be safe from anyone she knew catching glimpse of her.

It wasn’t that she felt guilty about being on date. . . well, she felt a little bit guilty. Jake hadn’t signed the divorce papers yet, but they were making way with setting up visitation days. Y/N was currently living in the house while Jake was staying in an on-base house. Y/N hadn’t even thought of getting out into the dating field, wanting to wait until the divorce was completely over, but Val had set her up with one of her co-workers and Y/N didn’t have the heart to say no. Who knows, maybe she was going to meet her second husband.

A small huff left her lips at even the thought of marrying another man. Having another man raise her kids. Having another man in her bed. Jake had been the one for her, and he’d always be the one for her, even if he broke her heart. She could entertain the notion of getting drinks with someone, but it wasn’t going to go much farther than this.

“Y/N?” A masculine voice called out to her. She lifted her head, “I’m Miles, it’s nice to meet you.”

Y/N gave him a tight lipped smile, reaching her hand out to greet him, “Nice to meet you, Miles.”

He was clad in a black dress pants and baby blue button up. The top buttons were undone, showing the faintest gold chain around his thick neck. He sat down on the barstool next to you, his scent of oranges and hospital drifting to you, making your nose scrunch. You hated oranges and the thick smell of hospital disinfectant.

“Sorry I’m late, got held up at the hospital,” Miles said.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows looking at her watch. It was 7:01 and they agreed to meet at the bar at 7:00, “A minute late is hardly late.”

“In my book. . . it is,” He smiled, flagging down the waiter to order himself a drink and some appitizers, “I don’t like showing up on time, it feels like I’m late.”

“I’m the same way. I like to be atleast 10 minutes early to everything,” Y/N sighed, “But having kids, I’m lucky if I’m even 5 minutes early.”

“Val told me about your children,” Miles said, taking a sip of the old fashioned he had ordered, “Three of them right?”

Y/N nodded her head, reaching for her phone. Her favorite thing about being a mom is getting to show off pictures of her kids. She showed Miles pictures of Alex when he first got his glasses, Ella winning her first soccer game, when Eli rolled over for the first time. Miles smiled along with her the whole time, asking questions about her kids; what they liked to do, what their favorite colors are, what their favorite bed time stories are.

“They look like they are some fun people,” Miles said, sipping his drink.

Y/N wasn’t sure what it was that snapped in her, but she suddenly felt embarrassed. Was she talking too muc about her kids? Did this guy even want kids? It wasn’t just her he would be getting if they ever decided to go past this one date, it was her and three kids. Three kids that had cried when their father moved his things out the door. Three kids that had been fighting and acting out more since the divorce process had started. Three kids that were waiting for her to come home.

“Hey?” Miles asked softly, putting his hand on her knee, “Did I lose ya?”

Y/N blinked a couple of times, plastering a fake smile on her face, “No,” She shook her head, “It’s just I-”

“Thinking about your kids?” Y/N nodded and Miles set his glass down on the bar, “Val told me this is your first time out since your divorce. . . It’s my first time out since my wife died and I. . .” Miles shook his head, “I can’t help but feel like I’m doing something wrong, meeting you here.”

Y/N’s heart broke a bit in her chest, seeing his sad brown eyes look at her. Val had mentioned that he was previously married, but she never disclosed the details on what happened. She shifted on her barstool, placing her hand on top of Miles’ giving it a squeeze.

“This doesn’t have to go very far tonight. . . If anything, I’m not ready to go very far tonight,” Y/N spoke honestly, “I’m still hurt and dealing with everything, but I could really use a friend?”

Miles nodded his head, turning his hand in Y/N’s so their fingers were intertwined, he squeezed her hand back, “I can use a friend too.”

The two of them stayed in the bar for only another hour, before going to find something to eat on the east side. Miles had picked out a local seafood place that he swore had the best fish tacos. The conversation flowed easily as they ate. They talked about everything under the sun; what he did for work at the hospital, Y/N’s plan to go back to work at the flower shop in a couple weeks, Miles’ most recent travel to Switzerland for a pediatric board conference, how Y/N finally got to visit the USS Midway museum. It truly did feel like Miles was the perfect friend for Y/N. He understood what it was like to lose someone you love, only difference was Jake wasn’t dead.

“I should really get back,” Y/N sighed as they walked down the sidewalk to where she parked her car, “I gotta trade off with the kids’ dad, he works early in the morning.”

“Don’t gotta explain anything to me,” Miles shrugged. He had been totally respectful when Y/N talked about everything with Jake. She didn’t go into full detail about it, mainly because the wounds were still so fresh. She still felt a pang in her heart when she walked through the front door and his boots weren’t there.

“I think we should do this again, I really enjoyed getting to be with another adult,” Y/N smiled and Miles returned it.

“I would love to,” Miles responded and opened Y/N’s car door, “Let me know when you get home, please.” Y/N nodded her head, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Miles,” She whispered as she shut the door.

The whole drive home it felt like Y/N was in a cloud. Her feelings were a bit conflicted on what she felt towards Miles. He was a good guy, with a nice smile. He had a sense of humor and had made her laugh several times throughout the night. Y/N could tell he had manners from the times he pulled out her chair and switched sides on the sidewalk so he was near the street. But all those little things were also things that Jake had done. Jake always sat so he was facing the door, or in the isle. Jake always opened the door and walked next to the street. Jake always knew how to make Y/N laugh.

Y/N had just pulled into her driveway, Jake’s black truck parked in it’s normal spot when her phone dinged.

‘Valeria Bates: how was it!? Did you kiss!? Did you do more than kiss!?’

Y/N’s face paled. Was she supposed to kiss him? They had agreed to just be friends, for now, but what was supposed to happen on the next date? Y/N hadn’t ever kissed another man besides Jake. And she sure as hell hadn’t slept with another man. Even though Miles was attractive, the thought of him touching her the way Jake had made her feel queasy. She didn’t respond to Val, tucking her phone in her purse and heading towards the front door.

Quietly, she pushed the door open, coming face to face with Jake sitting alone on the couch, only the light of the television illuminating his face. When Y/N first asked Jake if he could watch the kids tonight, she hadn’t felt bad about it, but now, seeing him sitting there alone, she felt nothing but guilt.

“How was it?” Jake asked.

Y/N sighed as she took off her coat and hung it up, “It was good.”

Jake nodded his head and stood up from the couch, “Will there be another one?”

“Too soon to say,” Y/N mumbled and turned to face Jake, “How were the kids?”

“They were fine. Eli was a bit fussy but he’s got some teeth coming in,” Jake stuffed his hands in his pockets and Y/N nodded.

“Well, You should probably get-”

“Don’t go on another date,” Jake said, cutting Y/N off, “Look, I know I fucked up. I know what I did is something that is unforgivable, and I beat myself up for it every day, but please. . . Please. . .” He walked towards her, and grabbed her hand in his, “Please.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what to do, as he stood before her, his green eyes with a tint of red to them.

“Goodnight, Jake,” Y/N muttered, squeezing his hand before moving towards the stairs to go check on the kids.

“I love you,” Jake whispered as Y/N’s frame disappeared down the hallway.

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ohtobeleah · 10 months

Note

Eeep!! Yes! So excited for an Iris update! We’ve been waiting!

Let’s call this the mid season kick starter shall we? It’s been a hot minute but let’s get back into this series.

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Jake Seresin x Younger F!reader. High tensions. Self doubting reader.

-> Read the rest of I.R.I.S here

There’s a lot of things that rattle around in Mickey Garcia's head during the day. He sometimes catches himself thinking about if he checked the expiration date on his milk before he made his morning coffee. Sometimes he catches himself thinking that he should call his Abuela on his lunch hour just to check in. There’s times where he finds himself daydreaming about being off on vacation and not teaching a class on weapons systems malfunctions, specifically deadeyes and how to combat them in a mid air raid.

He can usually reel in his mind when it starts to wander off. But the thought of Jake and you being a couple had him so distracted that it’s Bob's voice that’s breaking through the haze of incredibly concerning R rated imagery that’s been clogging Fanboys imagination for the better half of ten minutes. Nothing else seems to break the trance.

“You okay Mick? You’ve been grading the same paper for like ten minutes.” Bob asked quietly as they sat in the rec room. Grading the last of the papers they’d been assigned to go over. “You look a little green around the grills.” Mickey doesn’t hesitate to ask his best friend if he knew what was going on. Fanboy didn’t ask to be subjected to this kind of abuse. He didn’t wanna fucking know about Jake Seresins latest conquest and he surely didn’t want to know it was Pete Mitchell’s only daughter.

“Did you know that Hangman was seeing someone?” Two fucking days. “Y/n.” That’s how long Mickey Garcia kept the secret that Rooster had accidentally let slip. Bob's eyes lit up like he’d just been told the world's most unbelievable story. “Like, that’s not supposed to happen right? Jake doesn’t do commitment.” Bob felt like he’d entered a paradox where Jake Seresin was capable of love, but then he remained that you were who you were.

“Fuck!” Bob didn’t want to intrude, he really didn’t. “Jake!” But he needed to change his undershirt something chronic. It was the hottest day on record by far and Bob had been up flying with the new recruits all morning. The ones who flew with back seaters that was. Turns out? The closer you get to the sun in a multimillion dollar tin bird the hotter it gets and Bob was not dealing with it. At all.

“Oh my god you feel so fucking good—“ Bob couldn’t see it, which was probably a good thing, but Jake had your legs wrapped around his very naked, very wet hips as he fucked you against the rules of one of the few showers in the men’s line clears room. “So fucking good for me aren’t you?”

“I’m gonna be sick—“ Bob mumbled to himself as he shook his head and took his shirt off. He peeled the black cotton T up over his head and threw it into his locker with a huff. Here he was, slaving away in the damn heat all the while Hangman was getting his dick wet with some unknown tail. “Hey! Hangman! Get the hell out here before I report you for misconduct!”

Jake stilled himself inside you, god he was so close. But as you looked at him with lustful, seductive eyes that had a chokehold on his ability to think rationally—he cupped a large slightly rough palm over your mouth so he knew for sure you couldn’t try anything.

“You wouldn’t?” Jake countered Bob's threat as he slowly but surely rocked himself deep inside you.

“Try me—“ Bob hissed as he changed out his undershirt. “I’ve been busted my ass all morning and you're in here with some girl busting a nut?” Silence fell in the men’s locker room as Bob and Jake fell into a standoff. All that could be heard was the running water gushing from the shower head. Bob broke the silence with another threat. “I’m about five seconds away from peering over the top of the door to see who’s decided you’re worth catching a venereal disease from.”

Again, silence fell in the locker room as Hake slipped out of you and placed you down. He made sure your feet were steady on the ground before he let you go, before he took his hand away from your mouth and pinched your hardened nipples.

“I’m clean!” Jake shouted as you let out a small audible moan that made Jake's cock twitch with need and desire. “And that’s a little perverted of you Floyd.”

“Shocking.” Bob couldn’t help but to roll his eyes. “Hurry up, before I change my mind!” Jake planted one final kiss upon your lips before he was leaving you in the shower stall with a towel wrapped low on his hips.

“Jake doesn’t do love Mick.” Bob wanted to throw up at the thought of it being you in the shower. “But apparently does Captains daughters just for the thrill of it.”

“Who does captain's daughters?” Phoenix made her presence known as she flopped down on the nearby couch. Her and Rooster were just coming in from a hop. The look on Bradleys face told her everything she needed to know, there was gossip and gossip would be shared because she didn’t know about it. “Oh my god, spill the beans—“ Fanboy and Bob are tight lipped as they go back to grading papers. Rooster chooses to look anywhere but a Phoenix as she begins her investigation. “Who’s doing Mavs daughter?”

“No one!” Bradley tries to steer Phoenix away from Jake’s trail. He’s in too deep to watch this all collapse now.

“Is it Rebound?” When Phoenix started throwing callsigns up and into the wind it had Mickey bursting at the seams. He can’t keep a secret to save his soul. It was actually quite shocking he hasn’t been pulled for a disciplinary hearing this far along in his career. His Abuela definitely knew about a handful of highly classified documents. “Krod?”

“It’s Hangman—“ Silence had never been so loud before as Phoenix turned to Fanboy with a glare so full of concern it made his stomach ache. Bradley had, in that very moment, already begun planning his funeral. This couldn’t get any worse. “It’s Jake, he’s apparently dating Iris.”

“Says who!” Natasha’s eyes were wide and full of an inability to believe this wasn’t some kind of cheese nightmare. “Who would start such a ridiculous rumour Mickey?” Rooster tried to hightail it out of the rec room before Mickey could throw him under the bus, but it was to no avail. Fanboy was saying his name faster than Phoenix could turn around and grab at his flight suit. Which she aultimanty did.

“Rooster—“

“It’s not a rumour!” That was all Bradley’s defense relied upon. The fact that none of this was a rumour. That you and Jake were actually grounded in facts. “They’ve been messing around since the weekend before the new recruits started!” If there was one person Bradley Bradshaw was scared of besides Maverick when he found out just who’d been doing his daughter, it was Natasha Trance. She was a no bullshit type. And this? This was all a bunch of bullshit, wasn’t it. “I swear!”

“Bradshaw, Hangmans a hell of a lot of things but he wouldn’t do that?” The rec room fell silent, who was Phoenix trying to kid? She’d known Jake Seresin for as long as she’d been in the Navy and his moral code fluctuated between semi realistic to none existent any given day of the week. “Would he?”

“He would and he is and they’re together Nix.” Bradley ran the palms of his hands down his exhausted face. “But I’m glad you have to share this burdening secret too.”

“Where is he?” Bradley knew exactly where Jake was. He was off with you, in secret, because that’s all Jake did these days—he just hid away with his burdening secret as the hands of inevitability slowly wrapped around his neck. “Bradshaw where, is, he?”

“He’s with Iris—“

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

All the while Natasha was losing her mind of the new revelations that had come to light about Hangman's newest conquest, you and Jake could be found in the back seat of Jake F-150. Eating your lunch in the peaceful tranquillity of your small little bubble.

“What’s your favourite movie?” Jakes asking through a mouthful of his sandwich he brought from home. Turkey and Swiss, simple with a little mayonnaise for moisture. He watches the way you mull his question over carefully from beside him.

“Dodgeball—“ Something about this feels so different than what the two of you normally get up to. “With Ben Stiller and Vince Vaughn.” Usually by now you and Jake would have torn off articles of each other’s clothing and been sucking on each other tongues. “Or maybe it’s a tie with Benchwarmers.” But this felt more intimate than anything the two of you had ever done. “David Spade is my dad’s favourite actor so I grew up watching a lot of his stuff.” Right now there was no one else on earth, it was just you and Jake and your lunches.

“Huh—“ Jake chuckled softly to himself as he took in your honest answers. “I thought you would have been more of a mission impossible type of person.” Jake never would have picked you for a comedy lover all things considered. You were a force to be reckoned with.

“What about you?” You and Jake had gone exclusive, you weren’t fucking anyone else and he sure as hell wasn’t entertaining anyone who wasn’t Pete Mitchell’s incredibly seductive daughter—who, quiet frankly, would be the death of him. “What’s your favourite movie? Lieutenant Commander Seresin.” Jake's cock twitched in his boxer briefs at the way you said his name. You knew you had a power over him. “What’s wrong?” It was your favourite game to play, to see how hard you could get Jake before he broke.

“Rain Man—“ Jake shook his head as he tried his best to will away the x-rated images of you naked in his bed as you looked at him with lustful eyes. “That’s my favourite movie.” He tried to not give into the temptation that was you and all your temptress ways.

“And what about your favourite colour?” You asked innocently enough as you moved a little closer to where Jake sat, nudging his knee with yours. “Blue? Green?”

“Whatever colour your eyes are at any time of the day.” Jake saw black and blue that your eyes changed with emotion. That they changed in any given light, under the stars, in the sky behind your visor, underneath him when he had you quivering. He loved your eyes. Your eyes were the windows that guarded your soul. A misguided and misunderstood soul that was forever living in the shadow of her father.

“Friday night in or out?” You tried to hide the way Jake's unashamed flirting affected you but it was all too hard to keep under wraps when he had you grinning ear to ear with a heart that was pounding against your chest.

“I’m inclined to say in—“ Jake's eyes scanned you up and down as he watched you move up onto his lap. You’d gone from sitting casually beside him enjoying your lunch together to straddling his waist. “More specifically in you, but I do enjoy a Friday night out.” You could feel how hard Jake was, his slacks didn’t do much to hide the fact. “When’s it’s my turn to ask a question again?” Jake asked as you raked your fingers through his hair. Scratching softly at his scalp the way you already knew he liked.

“Ask away Lieutenant Commander—“ You near moaned as you rocked your hips down against Jake's hardened length. His hands flew to your flight suit clad hips. Stilling you before you could be anymore of a fucking tease.

“Have you ever lost an hour of sleep in your life?” Jake's eyes darkened as lust bubbled away inside his chest. Your answer was nearly too quick for even him. It took his breath away for a second.

“Many baby—and I’m prepared to lose a few more with you—“ You teased as you leaned in to take Jake's lips hostage with your own in a feverish kiss. “Fuck I want you.”

“Stay over tonight?” Jake spoke with intent into your mouth as his tongue danced with yours. Your hands fumbled at the buttons of his tan service shirt, slowly but surely undoing them one by one to expose his chest. Littered with chest hair that made you feral.

“I want you now, can’t wait—“ Oh no. This was risky. Jake turned his head to the left to look out the window. His car was parked at the back of staff parking. There wasn’t a soul in sight. His windows were tinted just slightly but not enough to hide an identity. “Jake—“

“We shouldn’t—“ It barely came out as you kissed up and down the juncture of Jake's exposed neck. He was still looking around the car park to see if anyone was nearby. “Iris.”

“I have a hop after lunch with dad.” You began to explain as you sucked very noticeable, very sexual marking into Jake's supple neck. “Wouldn’t it be so hot if I was dripping your cum out of my freshly fucked pussy all the while Mav tries his best to keep me in check?”

“Ohh fuck—“ You we’re going to be the death of Jake Seresin. “You’re gonna send me straight to hell, aren’t you baby?” Jake finally gave in as he turned to take your lips hostage again in a lustful needy kiss. “Gotta be quick though.”

“I only need a few minutes.” You teased through a giddy smirk that told Jake he was in for it. You worked quickly to rid yourself of your flight suit, balling it up before you haphazardly threw it into the passenger seat of Jake truck. “And yeah, the minute you spilled that drink on me your ticket to hell was signed, sealed and delivered.”

It didn’t take long before you were sinking low onto Jake's thick, throbbing cock. His hands were working to guide you up and down his length as you rode him the best you could in the backseat of his truck.

“Oh fuck you feel so good—“ Pure ecstasy, that’s what Jake felt whenever he was inside you. So tight, so warm, so wet, so perfect. “Ahhh—fuck Iris.”

It was true, your callsign had been given to you because you were just one of those people who needed supervision at all times. But the more Jake hung around with you, the more he snuck around with you behind everyone’s backs, behind your fathers back? It was beginning to look like you’d become an expert at evading that ever so important supervision. Because here you were, fucking Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin like he was your personal play thing in the backseat of his truck like there wasn’t a single consequence to your actions.

“Want you to cum inside me.” You moaned as you leaned forward to rest your forehead on Jake’s broad shoulder. “Fill me up so I can make a mess, walk around for the rest of the day full of you.”

“You’ve got daddy issues—“ Jake groaned as he wrapped his arms around you and planted his feet firmly on the floor. Complying with your request. “You know that right?”

“You’re gonna have daddy issues when he finds out your fucking his little girl, filling her with your cum, treating her like a little fuck toy.” You battered your eyes and sent Jake an oh so innocent look as he fucked up deep inside you. It didn’t take long at all for you to crack and change the expression on your face to more appropriately convey the utter euphoria you were experiencing. “Ahhhhh fuck yes you feel so fucking good!”

“Do I?” Jake asked through a groan. “Do I feel good fucking you?”

“So good! I need to cum, make me cum! Please—“ In the heat of the moment, neither of you saw an irate Phoenix bounding over towards Jake's slightly rocking F-180 series with a soon to be skinned alive Bradley Bradshaw trailing behind her.

“Nix! Just—slow down for a minute!” Bradley tried to get Natasha off Jake's back but his efforts had been to no avail. She wasn’t okay with this. This wasn’t morally correct, wasn’t remotely right. You were Mavs' daughter. His only daughter.

“He’s in there with her isn’t he?” Phoenix asked as she approached Jake's car close enough to see the outline of two people clearly getting it on. The sun was beaming in at just the right angle to blind her from seeing you clearly. “He’s got to be fucking insane!”

“It’s Hangman Tash! Why does any of this surprise you in any way!” Rooster tried to once again aid in Jake's defence. “He’s never had a moral code.” Just as Bradley finished his sentence Phoenix was reaching out to pull open the door. “No! No, don't do that!—“ It was too late.

There you were, exposed and just about to reach your peak when all of a sudden the door was being torn off its hinges. There she stood, Natasha Phoenix Trance, staring at you like you were some sort of succubus.

“Lieutenant Mitchell I’m going to give you to the count of five to get out of the truck and change back into your uniform.”

“Phoenix!” Jake gasped as you scurried off of Jake's lap. He worked just as quickly to tuck himself back into his slacks as Rooster looked up to the sky above, he didn’t need to see this. “What the hell are you doing!?”

“What the hell am I doing?” Phoenix replied. “What the hell are you doing Jake, Jesus fucking Christ she’s half you’d god damn age!”

“I actually don’t think it’s that big of an age gap.” Rooster was trying his best to keep this whole situation from imploding before his very eyes. He wasn’t doing a very good job.

“She’s Mavs daughter!” Phoenix squared her shoulders as Jake got out of his truck and shut the door behind him, leaving you since to get dressed in some privacy. “Are you insane!?”

“She's not just Mavs daughter to me!” Jake explained as rage bubbled to the surface, he was so pissed. “She’s Iris, she’s her own person.”

“Jake—“ Phoenix sighed in utter disbelief. “You have done a hell of a lot of stupid shit in the time I’ve known you, but this? Messing around with Pete’s daughter has got to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” You couldn't deny that Phoenix wasn’t right as you zipped up your flight suit and sat just to listen to the fight happening outside the door. “She’s your student! You can’t take advantage of her like this! Have you ever stopped to think about what would happen if Mav found out?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.” Jake replied sternly as he looked at Rooster who tried to not look so guilty. “Who the fuck else knows Bradshaw?”

“Bob and Fanboy.”

“The WSO’s!” Jake sighed as he held the bridge of his nose and placed a hand on his hip. “Jesus Christ—“ You couldn’t help but to feel like this was your fault, the tension between Jake and his colleagues and friends.

“You need to pull your head out of your own ass and stop whatever you think this is Jake.” Phoenix sighed. “You could lose everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve because of her.” Phoenix was right, you knew she was. There was a pain in your chest you’d never experienced before as you held back tears. The same eyes that had just been looking at Jake with lust and want were now murky with guilt and heartbreak.

It’s always just fun and games until someone gets hurt.

“You don’t know that.” Jake tried to defend his actions. “Look, I’m not just messing around with her.” It was time to fess up. “I actually really like—“

“Don’t.” Phoenix interrupted. “Don’t say you’re in love with her because that would make me sick, she’s a kid!”

“She’s not.” Bradley cringed. “She’s not a kid Tash, she's an adult, come on, this isn’t that big of a deal when you look at it from all the angels.”

“You’re just trying to save yourself from the blowout of what Mavs gonna do when he finds out!” Phoenix snapped at Rooster. He didn’t have anything else to say as he pressed his lips together in a tight line.

“I’m serious about her.” Jake ended his argument at that. “You don’t understand that? That’s not my problem Natasha.” Jake turned on his heels as he opened the door of his truck. “C’mon Iris, let’s—Iris?”

You’d snuck out the other side around the part of the argument where Phoenix, well within her own right as a concerned friend, brought up the fact you were Mavs daughter. Around the time she had asked if Jake had stopped to think about the repercussions of his actions.

“Y/n?” Jake looked around the cap and saw the slightly ajar door. You were gone. “For fuck sake.” This was all your fault. You weren’t good enough for Jake and you knew that. You knew that the two of you would never really work and yet here you were, rushing back to the locker room before anyone could see you burn in.

But you just couldn’t catch a break.

“Holy shit what happened to you?” Rebound asked as he saw you making your way through the corridor.

“Just finished fucking your mother, she said to tell you that you’re gonna have to change your diaper soon—“ You were immediately on the defense as he walked beside you. Doing his best to keep up as you fixed your hair and wiped your face clean of the few tears you’d begun to shed. “Seriously, it's been three days.”

“Are you gonna be good for our flight course?” He asked as you pushed the doors open to the female change room. Gender was an artificial construct apparently because Rebound pained no mind to the little back symbol on the door. “Because I’m stuck with you and your shitty attitude so you better not cost me any seconds on that timer.”

“The only thing that’s gonna cost you time, Coen, is the fact you can’t fly for shit.”

“Guess we’ll just have to see about that huh?” Rebound pressed his tongue inside the side of his cheek and he crossed his arms across his chest and stood tall, watching as you fixed yourself up over the sink. Splashing water in your face. “Don’t think I don’t know how you wheeled your way back into the program.” He scoffed, you tried your best to ignore the trajectory this was going. But if history were to repeat itself it would be right about now. “Must be nice having dear old dad around to boost your ego and blow smoke up that pretty little ass of yours.”

“Is that really all you think of me?” You snapped. “That I’m just some Nepo baby that’s never worked hard a day in her life?” You asked as you stalked over to where Rebound stood. He was about to cop what you couldn’t say to Phoenix without being reported to the admirals. “Or do I just intimidate you so much that that’s what you have to tell yourself I am so that fact I’m ten times better than you at everything I do? strings a little fucking less?”

“Don’t fuck with me Iris because it’ll be the last thing you do.” Coen Rebound Rhodes was built like a shit brick house. He was rugged and broad and six foot something. Yet his structure didn’t scare you. Not for a second.

“I only fuck with people I envy—“ You snarled. “And there isn’t an ounce of you or your pathetic fucking waist of military funding ass that I envy.” Rebound could still see the hurt in your eyes, the tears that threatened to spill. He’d never seen you so angry before, so hurt. This wasn’t even about him. “So get off my dick and focus on how you’re gonna have my back up there so we can get this TopGun bullshit over and done with.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

By the time Jake had finally managed to find you after you’d snuck out of his truck, a full hour had already passed. He was back in his office—pacing back and forth putting tracks in his carpet because he was so out of his mind worrying about you.

“They have a hop in forty five—“ Bradley reminded Jake as he sat in one of the chairs near Jake's Desk. “She’ll turn up eventually.”

“I’m worried about her—“

“It’s Iris we’re talking about here, not much seems to phase her.” What Bradley didn’t know was that something did phase you, something big. Jake knew you hated being compared to your dad. He knew it really got in your head when people made it abundantly clear who they thought you were.

Just Mavs daughter wasn’t good enough for you, but it sure as hell played on your mind.

“Phoenix was a little outta line, but she’s only looking out for you man.” Bradley sighed, he didn’t know what his role in all of this was supposed to be. “Someone has to, because I’m starting to think you don’t have a fucking clue what you’re doing.” Jake was too busy looking out the little window in his door to be listening to whatever Rooster was saying. And it was a good thing he was too because there you were, walking down the corridor with your helmet in hand.

Jake opened his door without a second of hesitation and stepped out into the hall. He noticed the way you froze like you weren’t sure if he was going to yell at you or barrel you over in a hug so forceful it would send you to the ground.

“Iris, can I see you for a minute?” It sounded more professional than personal and you knew it was because Mayhem was just rounding the corner.

“Sure can, Lieutenant Commander.” You smiled as you entered the room and rolled your eyes as soon as you saw Bradley. The second the door was closed you let him have it. “You been running your fucking mouth to everyone about us or?”

“Hey! Don’t get snarky with me. I've been putting out fires on your behalf since you got here!”

“Enough—“ Jake sighed as he came to stand before you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and watched as you looked up at him. “You okay?”

“Just peachy.” You forced a smile. “I have a hop with Rebound, need to get to pre-flight checks.” It was obvious you were trying to run, so Jake kept you still with his hands on your shoulders. “I’m fine.” You wanted to wait until after work to do it, but Jake wouldn’t let up.

“I don’t believe you.” Jake countered as he tried to read your face, something was brewing behind those eyes he loved so dearly. “I’m sorry about what happened before, I’ll talk to Phoenix and—“ So you just ripped the Band-Aid off as quickly and as efficiently as you could.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea if we keep doing whatever this is.” You interrupted and Bradley’s jaw hit the ground. That was the most sense he’d heard all day. “Phoenix was right, I’m not good for you or your career Jake.”

“Y/n—?” Jake thought he was going into cardiac arrest with the amount his heart hurt inside his chest. “Don’t say that, come on I know we’ve joke about it but—“

“No, no, listen to me.” You shook yourself from Jake’s hold and stepped back against the doorframe. “It was fun while it lasted, right? No harm no foul? You had your fun and I had mine and we both get to walk away with your careers intact and dad doesn’t find out.”

“Iris, we can sort through this—Phoenix just needs time to process us.”

“I don’t want to be with you Jake what are you fucking getting right now?” The switch up was night and day between what you were saying now to what you had been like in the car now an hour prior. “I’m not good for you!” Usually it was Jake hearing that he wasn’t good enough for others. “I’m not going to fuck you’re life up for a good root either, so just—let’s just cut our losses before shit hits the fan.”

“No stop—we’re not doing this okay.” Jake held the bridge of his nose as tears fell from your eyes. Bradley had never seen you so distraught before. Holy shit, maybe you actually really like Jake? “Let me figure this out.”

“I have a hop.” Was all you said as you shook your head. “Lieutenant Commander.” Before Jake knew what had hit him you were gone. You’d opened and closed the door to his office and that was it. You were just gone.

Had the love of Jake's life just walked out after breaking up with him? Is that what just happened?

“I feel like I’m living in an episode of the twilight zone—“ Bradley sighed out as he flung his head back. “Please don’t tell me you’re gonna try and fight her decision to end whatever the two of you are?”

Jake still stood where you’d left him, if he closed his eyes he could still smell the notes of your favourite perfume encompassing him.

“I have to.” Was all Jake said. Rooster groaned in defeat. This was an internal fucking hell.

“Why man? To me this seems like a pretty good get out of jail free card.” But Bradley didn’t understand, no one understood. For the first time in Jake Seresins life he actually cared about someone. He actually cared about wanting to be with someone every day, every time of day. You were on his mind all the time for all the wrong reasons at first but now? You were just on his mind.

“Because I think I love her Rooster.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

#iris // jake seresin #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin fan fic #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin series #jake hangman fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun hangman #too gun maverick #top gun fanfiction

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an-unknown-writers-world · 1 year

Text

I Want One

Warnings: Cheese with a hint of angst.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Word Count: 551

A/N: This is so cheesy and basically wrote itself. I debated posting it, might delete later. I hope you enjoy it.

Jake’s arms were wrapped around your shoulders, your back pressed to his chest, and your hands holding onto his forearms. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you watched your brother and sister-in-law load their two kids into the truck.

“I want one,” Jake spoke, breaking the silence.

“Babe, you just got a new truck a month ago.”

“Not the truck,” he laughed.

You looked up and followed his gaze, your six-month-old niece giggling in your brother’s arms. “A baby?” You asked, shocked.

He smiled, the breathtaking kilowatt expression that exposed his dimples and crinkled his eyes. “Yes,”

“Oh,”

This was a conversation you had both had a dozen times. You’d never wanted kids before you met him. You had a rough past; you never felt stable or safe enough to consider having a baby before you met him. But Jake came in like a wrecking ball. Every boundary or plan you had set dissolved without a second thought. He didn’t push them or tell you anything negative about your plans. They just no longer mattered. He was safe. No matter where you were or what was happening in the world, he was your home, peace, and sanctuary.

“Babe,” He spoke softly, kissing the top of your head again, “hey,” he whispered, “look at me.”

You pulled back and looked up at him, and he wiped the pooled tears from under your eye. You hadn’t realized you had started to well up.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Shaking your head, you smiled, “s’not that,” you kissed him chastely. Hoping he’d let it go.

“Hey, talk to me,” He soothed, his hand cradling the side of your face.

You leaned into it, kissing the palm of his hand. “Just never thought I could be this happy. Happy enough to actually want to have a baby with you.”

He chuckled and kissed you again.

“Get a room!” Your brother yelled from the truck window smiling at the sight of you and Jake.

You pulled away from each other, both laughing. Jake’s hand coming to rest on your lower back, keeping you tucked into his side.

“Go home then!” You shouted back.

“Yeah, we have a baby to make!” Jake shouted.

You buried your face in his chest. Laughing and blushing. Your sister-in-law cheering in the background.

“Bout time!” Your brother yelled back. “Love you guys!”

“Love you!” You yelled back. Both you and Jake waved as they pulled down the drive.

“I like him,” Jake smiled, referring to your brother.

“He likes you too. Which is pretty impressive.” You agreed.

Silence passed between the two of you for the briefest moment as you watched your brother and his family slip down the road.

“I can’t believe you just told my brother we were going to make a baby.” You laughed again.

“Well, we are, aren’t we?” He shrugged.

“Yes, but you basically just told my brother to leave so we could have sex.”

“And?” He smirked

You rolled your eyes, smiling. It was a pointless, silly argument that you’d never win. “Take me to bed, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grabbed you by the waist and threw you over his shoulder, a gentle swat on your butt.

“Jake!” You exclaimed, laughing.

It was going to be a long night.

A/N: If you’ve made it this far - thank you so so so much for reading! My Masterlist can be found here. All work is also available on AO3

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thebirdandthebee · 2 years

Text

Imagine Me & You

A Jake “Hangman” Seresin fic.

First time writing TGM fanfic - please be gentle.

Jake stumbles across a woman on base that seems to enjoy the finer things in life... just like the future he’d like to build - with her in it.

Chapter 2: Making Headway

“Hi Grandma,” Mia smiled, stepping into Dorothea Thomas’ suite.

“Hello darling girl,” Dorothea was having a good day according to her aides. Dorothea Thomas was clearly where Mia got many of her physical attributes. The same golden-brown eyes, the same blonde hair and the same pronounced cupid’s bow. She was honored to share the features.

“How are you doing today?” She asked, taking a seat beside the matriarch and staring out at the rolling ocean.

It did take a small chunk out of Mia’s inheritance to keep her grandmother in this particular care facility, but it was worth it. She trusted the staff, her grandmother loved the ocean, and she could live as close to independence as possible.

As a woman who lived her whole life in the Midwest, she was thankful each day to see the coast.

“How can I complain?” Dorothea asked with a small smile as her granddaughter poured her a glass of iced tea.

The truth was, she could complain. She lost her husband to war, her son to a heart attack and used some of the prime years of her life raising her two motherless grandchildren. At least, for as long as she could.

“Jack is coming into town next week,” Mia said, taking a sip of her own tea.

“Oh, how wonderful,” Dorothea smiled serenely.

“We’ll be by to go to brunch and down to the water,” Mia said, holding her grandmother’s hand in her own.

“I always love when you come to visit, Lenora,” Dorothea sighed, patting Mia’s hand on top of her own. Mia simply smiled and gently rest her head against her grandmother’s shoulder.

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“Jack Jack,” Mia giggled, feeling as if she was glowing when her baby brother swept her off her feet in a big hug.

“Man I missed you, Mimi.” He said, burying his face in her neck. “Missed you more,” she insisted, rubbing her hand up and down his back. She opted for a pair of crisp white sneakers today, making their height difference even more apparent. “Have your suitcase?” She asked, peeking around his shoulder.

“I got it,” he said, lifting the Rimowa into the trunk of the Jaguar. “Can I drive?” He grinned.

“A promise is a promise,” she agreed, handing over the keys. She lifted the IU hat from his head, running her fingers through his fine blonde hair before replacing the cap. “How’s your elbow?” She asked as he opened the passenger door for her.

“Good, really good,” he insisted. “I’ll need to ice and heat while I’m here, but other than that, doing good.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” She sighed as he started up the car. “Come on, I got everything to make your favorite dinner.”

The drove in peace, chatting excitedly about everything they could since seeing each other last over Christmas in Indiana. Mia had flown out to IU, helped re-stock Jack’s college house he shared with four of his baseball teammates and cooked Christmas dinner for the group of misfits who weren’t able to go home for the holidays.

“Classes are going good?” Mia asked, stirring the spicy pasta sauce on a low simmer.

“Really good,” Jack nodded. “My last year will be pretty light so I can focus on my senior capstone and job hunting.” He said, smearing a wipe of goat cheese on crusty bread.

“Good, Jack, I’m proud of you,” Mia smiled, “and baseball?” She asked.

“It’s going okay,” Jack shrugged. “I think I can get a few combine invites, but I don’t want to rely on it.”

“Smart man,” she nodded.

“How about you? You’re settled, you’re living the life here?” He asked, leaning against the kitchen counter top and watching as she carefully poured heavy cream into her saucepan.

“I think so?” She shrugged. “I don’t see it as permanent, but I enjoy it for right now.”

“Is it weird? Working for the military?” He asked, grimacing softly.

“A little,” she laughed. “I don’t know, sometimes I feel separate from it because one, I’m not enlisted or a pilot, but two, I’m also pretty removed from all the procedure and formality.” She shrugged. “We can go visit the base this week – there’s going to be an airshow for families that I thought could be cool. My boss said he’d give us a tour of the base.”

“That would be dope,” Jack nodded.

“Okay, need you to drain the noodles, please,” she said, tapping him gently. They worked seamlessly together around the kitchen, two peas in a pod that relied on each other more than anyone would ever know.

She didn’t know what she’d do without her Jack.

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Jake Seresin’s eyes tracked the two blondes that hopped out of the vintage Jag.

He had been in and out of base for the past few weeks on assignment and working with some of the young guns before returning to Miramar for a two-month assignment.

Drawing the short stick, he was asked to attend and oversee today’s airshow, which would take place a few hours from now.

Seeing Mia was like a breath of fresh air. She hadn’t been running laps through his mind for weeks, but she had been strutting in those heels for certain.

“Hangman,” in a rare moment, Jake was caught off guard as he whirled around to see Lt. Gen. Bozek.

“Buzzer,” Jake replied.

“Welcome back,” he greeted as they shook hands. “Glad to be grounded for a bit?” He asked, standing in front of the large picture window beside the aviator.

“Grounded no? But not bouncing around for a short while will do me some good,” His eyes flicked back out to where Mia was adjusting a small leather backpack – her companion helping her shorten the strap.

“I see Mia’s brother arrived in town,” Bozek commented, watching Jake out of the corner of his eye.

“Brother?” Jake asked more to himself than anything else.

“Good kid – plays baseball at Indiana,” Bozek elaborated. “They’re close – she gives me regular updates on him. They’re pretty much it as far as family goes.”

Who knew Bozek would be a fountain of information?

“I could introduce you, if you’d like.” He offered.

“Appreciate it, but we’re old friends at this point,” Jake smirked.

“Make good decisions,” Bozek called out as Jake departed the administrative building. “I always do,” Jake said confidently.

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“Snow cones should be available in more public places,” Jack said, finishing up his treat and tossing the paper cone in the trash nearby. “So what kind of planes are here?” He asked, draping his arm around his sister’s shoulder. She was centering a nice shot on her iPhone as he asked.

“Honestly I have no idea, I couldn’t tell you the difference between any of these.” She admitted. “They kind of all look the same to me.”

“Helps to have a professional around,” Jake said, rounding on the pair. “Hello, Jake Seresin,” he stuck out his hand for Jack to shake.

“Jack Thomas,” The height difference was off by just an inch or two – but still hovered around the clouds over Mia’s head.

“Hi Lieutenant Commander,” Mia said, leaning into her brother’s side. “This is my baby brother, Jack.”

“As you can see, graduated from being a baby many years ago,” Jack bumped her shoulder.

“Pleasure,” Jake nodded.

“You’ve been out and about, right? I feel like it’s been a moment since I’ve seen you.” Mia commented.

“Unfortunately that’s classified information,” Jake replied, a tight grin on his face.

Jack’s eyes darted back and forth between the pilot, who was zipped carefully in his flight suit, and his older sister. It was nothing new watching men sniff around his big sister, and this man was no exception.

Jake was aware of the man’s observance.

“Are you flying today, Lieutenant Commander?” Mia asked, tucking her phone back in her pocket.

“Just here for safety,” Jake commented. “We’ll have a few of our young guys doing the showcase.”

“But they’ll be flying the planes you normally fly?” She asked.

“Demonstrations today include my usual aircraft, an F-18 Super Hornet, an E-2 Hawkeye and an F-35 Lightning,” he listed off. “We’ll have some jumpers as well.”

“Do you jump?” Mia asked, genuinely curious.

“Only if the occasion calls for it.” Jake replied. “Ejecting will take about and inch and a half off of your height as your spine compresses.” He explained, watching her eyes widen just a bit. “Sick,” Jack commented.

“How long are you in town for?” Jake asked.

“Just for the week,” Jack replied, “I’m in school and had a small break,” He explained.

“Baseball, right?” Jake asked, aware of Mia’s eyes on him. “What position?”

“Short,” Jack said. “Started at third as a freshman and migrated over.”

“I’ve got a cousin that plays professionally in Houston,” Jake commented. “Is that the plan?”

“Jack is finishing up school to be an engineer,” Mia said, beaming with pride.

“Lots of great opportunities in the Navy,” Jake raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, no, no,” Mia said, throwing her arms around her brother and hugging him tight. “This is not a recruiting session.”

“It could be,” Jake countered.

“It’s not,” she was firm.

“Appreciate the offer,” Jack laughed.

“Is there a plane you need to go get into?” Mia asked.

“Grounded for a while now, don’t you worry,” Jake said. “Enjoy your visit, sir.” He extended his hand out to Jack once again, noting how the student’s handshake was just a bit stronger than their first. “See you around, Mia,” he said with finality.

Jack waited until the Lieutenant Commander was out of earshot.

“What’s his deal?” He asked, the sound of a plane approaching in the distance.

“What do you mean?” Mia said, ambling forward alongside her brother.

“He’s intense,” Jack commented.

“You think so? Didn’t notice,” she shrugged.

“You guys hook up?” He asked.

“Jackson Thomas!” She laughed, “no we did not hook up!”

“Well, he’s trying,” Jack shrugged.

“Come on, let’s find you another snow cone.” She rolled her eyes.

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Even though he was 21 and well within his legal rights, it was still weird for Mia to see Jack drinking in a bar. Even more so now that he was tearing it up with the Top Gun pilots, playing pool and joking around with levity she didn’t get to see him have too often.

“You going to be able to carry that giant man home?” Bobbi asked, grinning as she watched the Top Gun pilots hoot, holler and leap on your brother as he sunk a shot.

“I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again,” Mia laughed.

“Okay, two IPAs and a French 75 for the lady,” Bobbi’s friend Tina set down the next round of drinks. “Moose over there will have to get his own, but I think the boys have him covered,” she tilted her head back toward Jack.

Tina was nice – she worked off base but was married to one of the Top Gun instructors and had been at Miramar for a few months.

“I think they’re living the frat boy college fantasy they never got,” Bobbi commented, making Mia laugh.

“Jack doesn’t get to blow off steam too often, either,” she took a long sip of her cocktail. “Between practice, games, traveling, workouts and class, Indy’s got him pretty booked.”

“All the more power to ‘em,” Tina clinked her glass against Bobbi and Mia’s.

“So Mia, you’re cute and young and single, and I’m old and haggard and locked down – how are you blowing off steam?” Tina asked.

Mia giggled, stalling with another sip of her drink.

“Not currently blowing off any steam – or anyone for that matter,” she winked, making Bobbi and Tina laugh.

“Babes you’ve got the pick of the litter,” Tina insisted loudly. “Your heels are high, your tits are perky and that dress is really doing something.” She elaborated.

“First of all, thank you, you’re so kind,” Mia smiled, “but hooking up with someone on base? I work here!” She insisted.

“Uh yeah, that’s like the whole point,” Tina said, looking pointedly over at Bobbi. “Nowhere else on earth, are you going to find a smorgasbord of men like this.” She said, waving her drink around. “They’re hot, they’re young, they’re eager to please and have something to prove – I’m not saying you’ve gotta marry ‘em, though I did, but it’s worth considering.” She insisted.

“Tina I love when you wax poetic about me,” The ladies looked up to see an unfamiliar face.

“Roost!” Bobbi and Tina hopped out of their seats to give the mustachioed man a firm squeeze. He was more than happy to take them up in his arms.

“Mia this is Rooster,” Bobbi introduced.

“Hi Rooster, I’m Mia,” the blonde smiled widely, sticking out her hand.

“What are you doing here?” Tina asked, taking her seat again as Rooster hovered near the table.

“Eight weeks in Miramar,” he explained. Mia found that to be the norm – not saying why someone was on base, but rather, how long they’d be there.

“Just in time for summer,” Bobbi winked.

“Mia, what’s your story?” He asked, dropping his sunglasses down onto the collar of his vintage band tee. A cold beer appeared in front of him on the table.

“Mia is a lawyer, sexy, single, and working for Lt. Gen. Bozek,” Tina said, making Mia laugh. “Her little brother is over there, seeing how much Mezcal the new recruit class can take.” She tilted her chin back.

“Are we husband hunting?” Rooster asked? His eyes flicking over the cleavage her sweet little floral dress was showing off and down to the ring on her left hand. “That’s not going to help.”

“One, I am not husband hunting!” She laughed. “This is my dad’s ring.” She explained, “I mean, sized down about six times, but it just makes me happy.” She shrugged.

“I’ll drink to that,” Rooster said, tapping her glass with his.

“What are we drinking to? My accomplishments?” Bobbi knew it was a matter of time before Hangman showed up.

“Hangy, you big shit.” Rooster laughed, giving his former teammate a big hug. “Have you met Mia?” He asked, that damn mustache twitching just enough to tip off Jake.

“We’re keenly acquainted,” Jake said, his hand finding a resting spot on the back of her chair. Rooster’s grin became even more salacious.

Jake Seresin was not the type to pick up on-base girls at a bar.

Mia clearly was not an on-base-at-a-bar type of girl, but rather, just Jake’s type that wandered right into his snare.

How fortunate for Jake, and how fun for Rooster – and how much more fun for Tina and Bobbi that were watching it all unfold in front of them.

Though Rooster and Hangman were friendly now, they had a sordid past, and it still rang off-key to see them be chummy with one another even now.

“Y’know, Mia, Rooster also drives a classic car,” Bobbi said, raising a brow as she took a drink.

“Also?” Rooster asked, intrigued. “What’re you steering, Mia?”

“It’s a ’73 Jag XKE,” Jake answered, “right Mia?”

“That’s right, Lieutenant Commander,” she nodded. “Convertible.”

Rooster whistled low, “think you could take me for a joy ride sometime?” He prompted. Jake could feel his pulse tick in his neck.

“Depends, what ya go?” She asked.

“First gen blue Bronco,” he replied. “My dad’s back in the day,” he elaborated.

“Hey Roost, where’s my husband?” Tina asked.

“He was just wrapping up when I left, can’t imagine he’d be too far behind now.” Rooster explained.

“We were just talking about how Mia’s husband hunting,” Tina chimed in. She had been watching Jake observe Mia for the last five minutes.

“I’m not husband hunting,” Mia insisted, rolling her eyes, though the smile stretched across her face betrayed her expression.

“Baby, we don’t even have to husband hunt,” Tina insisted. “We can hunt just for a night, like true lionesses.” Mia burst into giggles with a shake of her head.

Rooster watched as the exchange went on between the two women, his eyes darting over to Jake, whose hand tightened on the back of her chair.

“Mia, I’m just saying, if you don’t use it, it closes up,” Tina said. “Hand to God.”

“What’s that? I think I hear my brother calling for me.” Mia laughed.

“That’s right, baby girl, you go dive into that man pool,” Tina cheered as the petite blond hopped down from her seat and grabbed her cocktail before heading off to check on Jack.

“Tina,” Jake hissed, sending the woman into a spurt of laughter.

“Calm down, Hangman,” Bobbi laughed, “she’s not going to take any of them home.”

“Mia!” Jack cheered, causing the ten men around him to parrot his excited call.

“Hi Jack Jack, how are we doing over here?”

“Mimi, these are my new friends,” He said, gesturing to the group. “Fellas – and Bridger – this is my sister, Mia.” He introduced.

“Pleasure,” she smiled with a shy wave.

“Mia works on base as a lawyer because she’s smart as fuck,” Jack explained.

“Mia, you play pool?” A man in glasses, blue pants and a coordinating t-shirt asked, “Rewind” stitched over his heart.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Jack laughed, caging his sister in his arms. Rewind simply laughed, eyeing up the shorter of the two Thomas siblings before prowling around the other side of the table.

“Mia really seems more like a darts person to me,” Jake said, arriving alongside the table. Jack noticed how the pilots straightened up just a bit in the Lieutenant Commander’s presence. “Jack,” he greeted with a tilt of his head and a peace offering of another drink.

“Jake,” Jack said, gladly accepting the beer. “And you’re right,” He said, tilting his head back toward the set of dartboards hanging on the far wall. “Mia’s a ringer.”

“I am not,” Mia said assuredly, looking over at Jake.

“She lies,” Jack said simply. “She was on our high school archery team.” Jake’s brows raised just enough to show his keen interest.

“Show me what you got, Thomas.” He insisted, ushering her over to the board.

“Wait, Mimi, some of the guys are going over to a house off base,” Jack said quietly. “Would you mind if I go? They wanna play COD.” Mia looked a little worried.

“Who’s driving there?” She asked.

“I am!” Bridger spoke up, the lone woman in the group. “I’ve not been drinking, Ma’am.” She insisted.

“Jack you don’t know these guys,” Mia said quietly.

“He’s safe, Mia,” Jake insisted. “They’re good kids, and Bridger is responsible. They wouldn’t let a single thing happen to Jack, would they?” He asked, raising his volume and looking around at the group.

“Couldn’t be safer than with a bunch of pilots!” She heard called back.

“Okay, but please text me if plans change,” Mia’s worry placated by Jake’s words. “We leave for Del Mar at 11 sharp tomorrow morning,” she reminded.

“I’ll be home by 10,” he pressed a kiss to her temple before taking off with the group – another batch of pilots happily filling in their spots.

“If something happens to him, I’m holding you personally responsible, Lieutenant Commander.” She gave Jake a pointed look, taking up her first red dart in her hand, and without setting down her cocktail, hit inner circle. Jake gulped softly. Their kids would be beautiful and athletic.

I’ll let you hold me regardless.

“Y’know, Jake rolls off the tongue a little easier.” He goaded, picking up his own green dart and landing it just to the right of Mia’s.

“Mm, you don’t really strike me as a Jake,” she said, using his own words against him.

“And what do I strike you as?” He asked, watching as her dart sailed through the air with precision.

“A Lieutenant Commander.” She replied, smirking.

“She’s got jokes,” he smiled back, throwing his next dart. “I bet it’s nice having your brother in town.”

“It’s amazing,” she smiled, taking a drink of her cocktail. “He’s my best friend. Do you have siblings?”

“I have a sister back in Austin,” he replied, “She’s there with my nieces.”

“Sweet,” she smiled, checking her phone to see that Jack was live-texting her his trip to negate her worry. There was clearly nowhere for her to keep her phone on her person in that dress. A wispy wonder that fell to the top of her thighs and showed off her breasts that he calculated would the perfect handful in his palms. He wondered if her nipples were the same pouty pink as her lips. “Do you get to see them much?”

“Usually four or five times a year – goddamn Mia.” He laughed as she hit dead bullseye. He caught the tail end of a cocky little smirk from her and it set his skin on fire.

“Hangman’s getting schooled,” A recruit called out behind them. He resisted the urge to raise his middle finger.

“That’s the third person I’ve heard call you Hangman.” Mia commented, sliding her phone on a nearby tabletop.

“Callsign,” he shrugged simply.

“And what’s the story behind it?” She had picked up a thing or two from Lt. Gen. Bozek.

“Wish I could tell you it’s some raucous story, but it’s from another lifetime ago.” He replied.

“Back when you were one of them?” She asked, tilting her head back toward the mixed group of service khakis and blue checks.

“Back when I was one of them,” he nodded, a shy smile on his mouth – a new look for him.

“Back when you were out hunting for the night,” she laughed, tilting her head toward a young pilot who was doing his best to lay down some game on a local girl over by the jukebox.

“Relentless,” Jake said with a shake of his head. A fresh French 75 appeared at her side. Mia looked around until her eyes landed on Rooster, who toasted her from back at the table with Bobbi and Tina. Jake tracked, none too pleased. Rooster sent him a wink as well. That fucker.

“If I have one more, I’m not going to be able to drive home,” she said, taking a sip of the drink nonetheless. There was just something about a bright, lemony cocktail.

“One of us will make sure you get there safely,” Jake reassured.

“Are all of these beers in your meal plan?” She asked, recalling his meal-prep-101 grocery cart.

“Why, you think I’m falling out of shape?” He asked, allowing her to trail her eyes down his obviously well-kept body. His white shirt strained just so across his chest and biceps and trailed down to the blue slacks that were held up by the size of his thighs and a brown leather belt.

“No, I think you’ll be okay,” Mia said airily. “I think I’ll go… check on Bobbi.” She turned to walk away from the high-top.

“You’ve got one more throw,” Jake said. Mia turned, picking up the lone red dart, once again, hitting inner circle without breaking stride. Jake had to laugh. She was something else. But he did notice the way her eyes lingered on his arms.

He was making headway.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fic #jake is a refined cowboy #jake seresin fan fic #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick fan fic #jake seresin is a simp

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saintlike78 · 2 years

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The only one for me [J.S]

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Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!reader

Words: 2k

Summary: Other women just don’t seem to care that you’re Jake’s wife or the fact that you’re sitting right next to him whilst they flirt with him

Warnings: Fluff, some angst, slight insecure reader, Jake’s a whole softie, making out, some sexual implications but not really.

It’s not his fault and you know it. It’s not as if he’s purposely picking out other women and flirting with them in front of you; it’s just his personality and the way he is - too friendly for his own good and too good-looking for his own good - so every interaction just happens to be mistaken for flirting. It’s also obvious that he’s with someone, he has you pressed up against him in the booth, his arm thrown protectively behind your back to squeeze you and to show every man in the Hard Deck that you’re his.

You only wish the women had half the decency that the men had not to flirt with your husband right in front of you.

It would be impossible for any man to try and flirt with you in front of Jake, a hard stare and maybe even a ‘back off, man’ would be all they would get. You, on the other hand, do not possess the skill of a hard glare or even to interrupt whatever lady that sat down right beside Jake, twirling their hair and batting their lashes as if you weren’t sitting right there under Jake’s arm.

It’s not as if he indulges in the flirting, he’s just friendly - much to your dismay.

You try not to let it bother you - you really do - but it still does. The stupid pit of jealousy sits in your stomach and gnaws at it until you feel sick; you feel sick of watching these women ignore you and talk to Jake like he’s up for grabs.

Maybe that’s another thing, they do it because they don’t see you as a competition. They’re all beautiful and confident, batting their lovely eyes at Jake because he’s gorgeous and you’re just so painfully you.

You nurse the drink in your hand with a pitiful look on your face, leaning into Jake’s side as he talks idly with the woman sitting so close to him he can’t move anywhere.

It feels horrid to feel so icky because Jake’s not the one doing anything wrong and it’s not as if you could ban him from speaking to another woman again, but god, you want to just tell her to fuck off - but you never would.

The woman laughs loudly at something he said, hitting his arm, “you’re hilarious! I love a man with humour,” she says, winking at her last statement.

She could’ve just come and hit you in the stomach and poured your drink over you because her words had the exact same effect. You rolled your eyes involuntarily, not even the tiniest bit nervous about her seeing it, her eyes were glued to Jake.

“Gotta keep the missus happy somehow,” he smiles politely, squeezing you against him, “ain’t that right, baby?”

He laughs a little at his own words as he looks toward you, only for his smile to be wiped off his face as he takes in the solemn look on your face; the way you stare at the empty glass in your hands, obviously not paying attention to his conversation or words.

The woman laughs awkwardly, giving you a dirty look that you didn’t see, “I didn’t realize you were married.”

Jake doesn’t answer her, instead, he lowers his head to nudge your temple with his lips and whispers in your ear, “baby?”

The affection pulls you from your trance and you hum, looking from your glass to his face, a concerned frown pulls at his lips and brow - you reach up to smooth over the crease that has settled and his eyes soften.

“You okay? You wanna go home? Too loud?” He asks and if you could melt into a puddle you would at the genuine concern etched in his words and how he would drop everything just to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible and having fun.

“Only if you want to, I don’t mind waiting till you’re done,” you whisper back, leaning into his body and his soft touches.

He smiles and shakes his head, leaving a kiss against your hair, “I’m done now then.”

Before you had the chance to say anything more he’s already politely asking the stunned woman to move, sliding out of the booth with your purse and jacket on one arm and the other reached out for you to take.

It takes you a moment before you’re grabbing ahold of his arm, purposely ignoring the dirty look the woman gives you before she’s huffing and storming in the opposite direction. You sigh in relief, gripping Jake’s arm tight as he leads you by his fellow pilots to wave goodbye and then out the front door of the Hard Deck.

Jake keeps an eye on your face, smiling at the way you cling to his arm, “you’re sure you’re okay, sweetheart?” he asks when you reach his truck.

Before you have a chance to open the passenger door, he had you caged against the vehicle, arms on both sides of your body as he looks down at you with a certain look, waiting for you to answer him.

You let out a sigh, placing both hands on his biceps, “I just wish they would see me as a threat.”

“Who?” His eyebrow is raised and if he wasn’t so confused you’re sure he would’ve laughed because of all the things you were, threatening was probably one of the last things on that list - probably not on the list at all.

“The women… all of them that come and talk to you… none of them takes me seriously when I’m sat next to you and that’s why they flirt with you right in front of me,” you sighed with a squeeze of his biceps, avoiding his eyes and missing the way they soften.

You don’t have time to react before you were smushed against his hard chest, his arms around you in a tight embrace. You inhale the musky scent of his cologne, the scent calming you instantly.

“You should’ve told me it bothered you, honey. I never would’ve talked to them if I knew you felt like that,” he said with a sweet smile that you couldn’t see, you could only feel his lips against your forehead as he spoke.

“It’s not what you do that bothers me, you’re just being nice… it’s them. They’re so persistent just because they’re prettier than me -“

“Hey! Don’t say that,” Jake pulls your face from his chest, his eyebrows scrunched together again with a frown, “they’re not. You know you’re the prettiest girl in the world to me.”

You sigh, smoothing out the crease again out of instinct, “I know, but they don’t think that.”

“Honey, I don’t care what they think, it’s what I think that matters and I happen to think you’re the most exquisite creature I’ve ever seen,” he spoke matter-of-factly, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

You chuckled lightly, trying but failing to hide the heat that crept up your neck.

“If I didn’t know better, I would say you have a crush on me, lieutenant Seresin,” you grinned, eyes crinkling with the pinch he left on your cheek.

Jake smirked, leaning down to brush his lips against yours in typical teasing Seresin manner, his breath fanned across your lips as he spoke, “oh I have much more than just a crush on you, baby.”

His muscles flexed underneath your hands as they glided up to hold him around his neck. He was bent down to be right in your face and you knew that if he were to straighten up you would be dangling from him; if he was uncomfortable in the way he was bent he didn’t let it on, instead he brushed your lips with his so achingly slow you couldn’t help the needy whine of his name that slipped from your pouting lips.

“Just kiss me already, Jake,” you whined like an impatient child, almost stomping your foot on the ground for added effect, but decided against it.

Jake only smirked, moving his hand up to grip the back of your neck, holding you in place for him, “you wanna say that again, you little brat?”

You swallowed the stone-sized lump in your throat, trying to close the minimal gap between your lips, but Jake kept you in place with his strong hand.

“Please, kiss me… I love you,” you whispered, adding the last part to seal the deal because you knew Jake could never resist you when you played your sweet loving wife card.

Which is why you didn’t have time to even take a breath before Jake’s lips were on yours, trapping you firmly against his truck with his firm body. He moved skillfully against you, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip, silently asking for permission; your lips parted instantly, allowing him entrance to slip his tongue in and tangle with yours. Your breaths mingled and your noses bumped one another. The kiss was bruising, to say the least, and his grip on you even more. His muscles moved under your touch, your hands sliding from his biceps to glide up his chest, finding their final destination tangled in his soft blond hair; your fingers scratched at his scalp and tugged on his locks electing soft grunts of satisfaction to fall from his parted lips.

One of Jake’s many talents was definitely kissing because somehow, no matter how many times you two made out, it always made tingles and goosebumps rise along your entire body. It was like being bathed in warm honey, his kisses sweet and always desperate for you. His hands explored you entirely like if he wasn’t holding you as close as possible you would vanish from him.

“You two haven’t left yet?”

Your kiss broke with a startled gasp as you peered over Jake’s shoulder to see a very amused Rooster and Phoenix, both with raised brows and sly grins. Your face felt like it was on fire especially with Jake’s hand cupping your face, thumb rubbing the soft skin slowly.

He didn’t turn fully, only looking over his shoulder to answer, “we were just about to.”

Phoenix hummed, “sure.”

“I was just helping my girl into her seat,” Jake smiled, sending you a quick wink.

Rooster barked out a laugh, “were you gonna stuff her through the door?”

Jake huffed, “I was just trying to be a gentleman… kissing my lady before helping her… not something you’re familiar with, huh, Bradshaw?”

“Dude, it looked like you were inhaling her… or crushing her,” Phoenix scoffed with a chuckle.

“Okay, not that I’m not enjoying this conversation because I really am… we really should leave now,” you spoke, burying your face in Jake’s shoulder.

“Alright, we’ll leave you to it… later lover birds,” Rooster saluted, turning with Phoenix back towards the bar.

You let out a laugh feeling Jake huff against the top of your head, “that guy.”

“Alright, lover boy, let’s go home.”

Jake looked down at you with a sheepish smile, “just a moment, sweetheart and then I’m good to go.”

“What’s wrong, are you okay?” you reached up cupping his cheeks, looking him over with wide eyes.

Jake let out a small chuckle, “I’m fine, honey… it’s just difficult driving when my pants feel a little tight.”

Your eyes widened as you looked down, and sure enough, his pants did look a little tighter, “oh… I thought your phone was poking me.”

Jake laughed loudly hugging you tightly, “my sweet girl.”

“What?? That was a completely valid thing to think,” you argued, wiggling in Jake’s grasp, but to no avail.

He hummed, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“You’re the only one for me, ever. You know that right?” he spoke against the top of your head.

“I know,” you smiled against his chest, burying yourself further against him, “and you’re the only one for me.”

“Damn right I am,” he exclaimed, making you laugh.

A/n: to be notified of future writing follow @saintlike78slibrary and turn on notifications ☀️

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman fic #top gun maveric fan fiction #top gun maverick

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