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justabigassnerd · 1 year

Text

New Best Friend

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,787

Warnings - fluff and that's about it

Summary - the Daggers meet Jake's two-year-old daughter and she decides that Fanboy is her new favourite person

Sequel - 'Replaced'

A/N - hey y'all! This was an anon request that I ADORED writing. I did adjust a couple of things because that's just how the ideas came out while I was writing but I hope I did the idea justice nonetheless! This is also NOT a part of the Hangman junior universe, just wanted to clarify. As per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

“You ready to meet daddy’s friends, sweetheart?” Jake asks gently as he bounced you up and down on his hip slightly, eliciting a giggle from you. Jake had finally dropped the bombshell that he had a two-year-old daughter on his team and within seconds of finding out that information, the team demanded to meet you. Javy had already met you; he’d been the one helping Jake through the whole process of being a single father, but the rest of the team hadn’t been aware of your existence. Jake had invited the Daggers around to his house to hang out and to meet you. It was a Friday evening so everyone was free, and he chose to have them come to his house so you felt safe and comfortable with meeting his teammates. Now that the Dagger Squadron had become a permanent detachment, Jake felt more comfortable letting the team meet you since he didn’t want you to grow attached to them and then have them leave. He didn’t want to put you through any upset or heartbreak.

Jake stopped bouncing you when the doorbell rang, signalling someone’s arrival at the house. Jake walked through the house with you sat happily on his hip. Jake knew you were shy, so he was hoping Javy was the first one to show up to ease you in slightly.

“Hey, Jake.” Javy says with a smile as the door opens.

“Javy!” You squeal happily, reaching out for him so Jake passes you to him. Javy gives you a big hug as he enters the house, kicking his shoes off and following Jake into the kitchen to help set out food for the evening. You continued to cling to Coyote, but he skilfully managed to move plates while you sat comfortably in his arms. Just as the two finished setting up, the doorbell rang again, and Coyote crossed to the front door to open it after he put you down. He opened the door to reveal Phoenix and Bob who smile softly before being allowed in. The pilot and WSO duo enter the house, easing their shoes off and following Coyote into the living room where you were sat in Jake’s lap, cuddling into his side, a fistful of his shirt in your hand. The second your eyes landed on Phoenix and Bob you cuddled closer to your dad, hiding your face.

“Sorry.” Jake says over to the two, who shake their heads with a smile, understanding that you’re shy. You do give them a small wave but that’s as much courtesy as you extend to them. Soon after, Rooster arrives, greeting you with a smile and a wave that you mirror. Those who had arrived chatted with each other after grabbing a drink. None of them wanted to freak you out so they were content to let you cuddle into Jake and watch them quietly. Soon, Payback and Fanboy arrived, both apologising profusely for being late while they entered the living room. You gave both men a shy wave and they found somewhere to sit in the living room. Fanboy sat on the floor by the end of the sofa, discovering a small Mickey Mouse plush on the floor near him and picking it up.

“Is this yours y/n?” He asked gently, holding the plush out towards you as you nod and take it from his hand with a small ‘thank you’ as you cuddle the toy to your chest.

“Who’s that you got there?” Rooster asks quietly, looking over at you.

“Mickey Mouse.” You say shyly as Jake smiles down at you before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He was proud at you for speaking to someone you didn’t know.

“You know, my name is Mickey.” Fanboy says which perks your interest as you shift in your dad’s lap, ignoring his joking groan as you elbow him lightly in the side during your shuffling.

“Really?” You ask curiously, clutching your toy closer to your chest.

“Really.” Fanboy confirms with a nod, officially winning you over as you wiggle out of your dad’s grasp as he eases you down onto the floor so you can toddle towards Fanboy. You instantly open your arms as you reach Fanboy, and he mirrors your action allowing you to clamber onto his lap and cuddle into him. You were clearly not interested in what the team were watching and grew restless but didn’t want to leave the sanctuary you found in Fanboy’s arms.

“Do you want me to take her?” Jake said, noticing how you were restless and didn’t want Fanboy to have to deal with it.

“Nah, I got her. Is that okay?” Fanboy replies, glancing over at Jake to get a response to which Jake nods with a small smile.

“Alright y/n, let’s move.” Fanboy says with a grin, carefully getting to his feet while keeping you in his arms as your arms wind around his neck for added security. You still kept your toy kept tightly in your grasp as Fanboy carried you to the back door. He stepped out into the cool evening air where the sun was beginning its descent over the horizon.

“It’s pretty, huh?” Fanboy says gently, bouncing you on his hip lightly. Your eyes were fixed on the reds and oranges that painted the evening sky, watching the clouds that passed. Noticing a passing jet, Fanboy carefully points it out to you before covering one of your ears and then pressing your head gently against his shoulder so your ears are protected from the loud passing of the jet. When Fanboy considers the jet to be far enough away, he removes his hand.

“Did you see that?” Fanboy asks with a grin as you nod, eyes wide with awe from the jet passing over, you were already searching for another one.

“My daddy flies planes!” You exclaim, pointing up at where the jet had previously been. Fanboy wasn’t expecting you to get so excited about a jet but upon the mention of Jake, he understood. You loved your dad with all your heart and Fanboy could tell easily.

“He does, doesn’t he? You know I do that too? And everyone in the house with your dad. Well, me and Bob don’t, we sit in the backseat but we’re just as important.” Fanboy explains, knowing his words were most likely going in one ear and out the other but he loved seeing your eyes lighting up at the mention of your dad. Fanboy then begins to point out various clouds, asking you if you thought they looked like something. Over time, Fanboy noticed that you were slowly getting more and more tired, and your head was dropping onto his shoulder.

“We should get you inside, yeah?” Fanboy whispers to you, turning to head back inside the house, closing the door behind him and locating Jake in the kitchen, putting food away.

“Hey, Hangman. I think y/n’s ready to go to bed.” Fanboy says to his teammate, who immediately turns to face Fanboy, a soft smile covering his face at the sight of you cuddled into Fanboy.

“I got her. Most of the others are heading home now so you’re good to go.” Jake said with a smile as he reaches out to take you.

“No, Mickey stay.” You whine, burying your face in Fanboy’s neck.

“y/n/n, come on sweetheart. He needs to go home and you, little miss, need to go to bed.” Jake says, reaching out to take you once more but again you shied away, even tucking your Mickey Mouse plush into the crook of your elbow so it hid your face more.

“If it’s okay with you. I could stay until she falls asleep. I don’t mind.” Fanboy offers, bouncing you gently to stop the tears he noticed in your eyes when your dad mentioned you having to go to bed.

“Okay. Come on, I’ll show you to her room.” Jake says, leading Fanboy upstairs after bidding goodbye to the Daggers as they left. Fanboy enters the bedroom, smiling at the décor. It was clear you were a big Disney fan. Fanboy pulls back the duvet on your small bed and eases you down, making sure that your Mickey Mouse toy is still in your grasp.

“Story, please.” You ask Fanboy, pointing to the book that laid just by your bed.

“She can’t go to sleep without a story.” Jake elaborates from where he stood in the doorway, watching every interaction with a gentle smile. Fanboy nods, picking up the book, sitting on the edge of your bed, and holding the book so you could see the pictures. Fanboy read the book, making sure to do different voices for the characters as you giggled at his variety of voices. Soon enough, your eyes began to droop, and you snuggled into your pillow, Mickey Mouse toy cuddled into your chest as you curled into a ball.

“Goodnight, y/n/n.” Fanboy whispers, easing himself up carefully and placing the book on the top of your bookshelf while Jake came in the room fully and knelt by the bed.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and pulling the duvet up around you. He switched the nightlight on by your bed and motioned for Fanboy to follow him, both of them leaving the room with Jake switching your room light off and pulling the door closed, leaving it open a crack.

“You were good with her. Didn’t know you had that in you.” Jake comments as he and Fanboy make their way downstairs.

“I have an older sister, she’s got a kid so I guess I just know how to look after a kid now.” Fanboy shrugs, like it, was an obvious answer.

“Well, you won her over. I think you’re her new best friend. I’ve been dethroned.” Jake chuckles, clapping Fanboy on the shoulder.

“She’s going to be heartbroken tomorrow when she realises, you’re not here. It’ll be like I don’t exist to her.” Jake says, shaking his head with one more soft chuckle.

“I can always come around tomorrow. She’s a cute kid and I don’t mind taking her off your hands for a while. It’ll give you some time to yourself.” Fanboy suggests, glancing over at Jake whose eyes widen slightly in shock.

“You don’t have to. I don’t want to force you into anything.” Jake says quickly.

“You’re not forcing me. I suggested it. I want to help out.” Fanboy says, smiling at Jake who processes his words before nodding slightly.

“Well, you’re always welcome to come and see your new best friend. And I will be telling Payback that he’s been replaced.”

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tetragonia · 14 days

Text

Midnight Repair Shop

John "Bucky" Egan x Female!Mechanic!Reader

Blurb: In the middle of the night, accompanied with the choruses of men from the Officer’s pub afar, Bucky saw the hangar light was on. He peeked and found Jerry to his Tom—(Y/N), one of the mechanics whose side job apparently was to annoy him. It was that one time when Bucky and (Y/N) repaired not only the plane, but somehow their whole dynamics all these months.

warning: inaccuracies especially with the mechanical terms because I'm not used to them and just looked em up from the internet. also, maybe weird phrasing or grammatical incorrect since English is not my first language. pls let me know what I could do better <3

note: pure fluff and giggles, some arguments but all is good with our Bucky. this is my first mota fic out there and why shouldn't i choose our antic Bucky as the main character? ;) also, this is based on the portrayal of the actors from Masters of the Air. all respect to the veterans and family

words: 3160 (sorry!)

It was a sunny day as the sun was casting a golden hue over Thorpe Abbotts, the distant hum of aircraft engines signaled the approach of returning fighter planes. Among them was Major John Egan–”it’s just me, Bucky’s fine”–his B-17 streaking through the sky and leading the squadron. It was not an easy mission, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle. The route was clear and the enemy’s cover was minimum.

With steady hands, Bucky guided his aircraft toward the runway as his eyes scanned the horizon for any signs of trouble. The roar of the engine filled the cockpit as he made minute adjustments to his altitude and speed, preparing for the critical moment of touchdown.

As the wheels of his B-17 made contact with the tarmac, Bucky maneuvered and smoothly brought it to a stop with. The plane rolled to a halt, its engine purring contentedly as Bucky taxied toward the waiting ground crew.

You were one of the ground crews, a skilled mechanic around the base. People knew your work ethic and they damn respected you out of it. And that clearly gave some benefits around here.

“Back from another joyride, Major?”

You emphasized the rank as Bucky made his way out from the cockpit. His flight suit was slightly disheveled, his hair was a bit scruffy but his smile was as bright as the summer sun. Brady jumped out, his eyes scanned you and Bucky.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

“Capt,” you tilted your chin and raised your eyebrows slightly to acknowledge his presence.

“Joyride?” Bucky pulled your attention back at him. “More like a death-defying adventure, (Y/N). You know, I like to keep things exciting.”

“That ain’t exciting, bud,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Let’s see what kind of mess you’ve gotten yourself into this time.”

You wasted no time inspecting the plane, your expert eye quickly picking up on any signs of damage. Still locking your eyes to the plane, you said, “I swear, Bucky, if next time you come back with another dent in your plane, I’m going to start charging you for the repairs. And trust me, it ain’t cheap.”

“Did you just threaten me?” he let out a dramatic gasp, putting his hand in front of his chest. “You know, I think I’m starting to rub off on you. After all, it truly takes a special kind of person to keep up with a pilot like me.”

Your hands ran through the plane’s body, bullet holes were scattered and some flak damages were tattooed to the metal skin. You suspected there were some engine reduction from the enemy’s fire, as well as control surface damage.

“You’re not the only one keeping me busy. I have plenty of other pilots crashing their planes too, creating these cute little bends and missing some rivets,” you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes again.

“You know, (Y/N), I’m starting to think you have a thing for me crashing. How else do you explain always being there to fix up my messes?” still in his dramatic tone, he raised an eyebrow at you.

You turned your head to him, trying to mimic his dramatic gasp earlied, “Oh my God! Weird thing is, I can’t imagine having this thing called a job! Have you ever heard of that?”

You lost count on rolling your eyes at him. He laughed faintly and started to walk away from you.

“Hey, (Y/N), if I had a penny for every time you gave me that look of disapproval, I’d have enough to buy myself a damn new plane. One that doesn’t need fixing every time I fly it.”

“Spare your voice for the interrogation, Bucky, you’re just talking shit right now,” you said dismissively. You could hear his ragged breath from your place, that man clearly needed to at least have a good hot chow.

“Ouch, that stings.”

Despite your dismissive tone, you couldn’t help but to let a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As the darkness draped itself over Thorpe Abbotts like a heavy cloak, the Officer's pub emerged as a sanctuary of warmth and light. The air was buzzing with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, faint laughters could be heard from afar. Bucky Egan was bathed in a warm, golden light from the row of lanterns that lined the walls. Wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling above him, their darkened surfaces reflecting the soft glow of the fire roaring in the hearth.

Around the room, Bucky found himself gathered at wooden tables with other airmen as the air was thick with the scent of pipe tobacco and the familiar aroma of alcohol, mingling with the lively strains of a piano being played in the corner.

“I don’t know, man. You seem pretty tipsy already,” Buck Cleven shook his head with a chuckle when Bucky offered to buy them another round of drinks. “I don’t want you stumbling into any trouble, you know.”

Hearing what his buddy said, Bucky laughed. “Me? Trouble? Com on, Buck, you know me better than that. I can handle myself just fine! Look at this.”

Bucky tried to jump from his seat to buy another round, but then he stumbled and let the men laugh as he landed in a weird position.

“Alright, alright,” he said, laughing with them too. He was just too damn charming to be ashamed, it’s alarming.

“No more drinks,” Bucky said, God knows to Buck or to himself.

“No more drinks,” Buck hummed the same chorus. Bucky laughed, shook his head faintly.

“I’m gonna head back,” he eventually reached a decision. “And I don’t want any of you to take me, feel like flying solo tonight. ‘Kay?”

“Sure, Bucky, whatever you want,” Brady laughed as he sipped his glass. With that, Bucky stumbled out into the cool night air, leaving the sounds of laughter and conversation that faded behind him. He took a deep breath, the crisp night air helped him clearing his muddled mind as he made his unsteady steps back to his barrack.

Humming sporadic notes from Bing Crosby, he noticed a faint flickering light shined through the windows from a hangar nearby with its door ajar. Curious, and perhaps a little tipsy, he decided to investigate.

Who the hell works at this hour, he thought to himself. With a curious tilt of his head, he veered off course, his feet guiding him toward the source of lights. Peeking a bit, he was greeted by the sight of your back, working on his plane.

Bucky sauntered in, his flight jacket slung over one shoulder, a cocky grin plastered across his face. He squinted against the sudden brightness, his eyes struggling to adjust to the harsh contrast after the darkness outside. Blinking rapidly, he stumbled forward, laughing at his own stupidity. And he might or might not realize that he always felt way more stupid around you, throwing all those flirts and banters like a loony.

“Hey there, (Y/N)! Patching up the old birds, are we?” Bucky slurred slightly.

You turned your head at him, still on your workbench raising an eyebrow at Bucky’s disheveled appearance.

“Looks like someone had a bit too much to drink tonight,” you made a remark as you continued working gunning the rivets. “Too much liquid courage at the pub?”

Bucky chuckled, he leaned against a nearby box for support. “Liquid courage? More like liquid genius! But hey, I couldn’t resist the chance to see your pretty face before I hit the hay.”

Bucky grinned stupidly at your back as he heard you replied monotonously, “Oh lucky me. The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure.”

He laughed at your dry response, stepped in. “Nah, just needed a little pick-me-up after a long day of saving the world. You know how it is.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t suppress a smile at Bucky’s antics. You’ve gotten used to all that now, working side by side for a couple months.

“Yeah, yeah, the brave pilot routine. I’ve heard it all before. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.”

As Bucky watched you expertly finish tinkering the body, you couldn’t help but admire your skill and determination. God knows since when you had worked on his plane today!

He leaned against the nearby workbench, his grin widening. “It’s your touch that keeps her purring, (Y/N). Without you, she’d be just another hunk of metal gathering dust.”

You rolled your eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, flyboy. You’re not fooling anyone with your smooth talk.”

“Hey, I’m just stating facts!”

“Yeah, and Hitler’s a good man. Now do me a favor, hand me the rivet gun over there,” you asked, tilting your head to the tool box.

Your hand brushed with his as he handed you the rivet gun. The wind suddenly swirled around the hangar and you shuddered at the chills down your spine. You took the gun swiftly and placed it over the exposed end of the rivet shaft. You securely fastened patches of those new aluminum sheets metal onto the wing, covering the bullet holes.

You’d been fixing the engine with Ken all day, finished just before the curfew. To clear your mind, you decided to fix the panels tonight as you asked Ken to get a hot chow. After some good arguments thrown from you, Ken gave up and walked away.

And here you were, in the hangar with the famous Bucky Egan. You’d been working with him for months, yet you didn’t know if he made all those compliments and flattery to other women as well. There weren’t any female mechanics around here and you knew he had his own way with women.

Flattery didn’t get him anywhere, but it got you somewhere.

You decided to break the silence, “You know, Bucky, I’m starting to think you pilots have a secret competition to see who can wreck their plane the most. Am I right?”

To hide whatever feelings that tried to surface, you put your familiar mask–strict, to the point, and sometimes a bit offensive. That way, you could protect yourself.

“Am clearly the best,” from the corner of your eyes, you could see him nodded and smiling. Suddenly it was so infuriating, how smiley he always was, how cheerful and friendly he was to you. How easy he was to throw compliments, and how easy he was to look at her with such adoration.

“Yeah, I've always thought you were a great pilot. Shame you're not quite as good at keeping your plane in one piece.”

You were unable to keep your feelings now. It was bottled up all this time. You were tired, hungry, and thirsty. You were vulnerable.

“Hey, hey, now,” Bucky might be a bit drunk but he wasn’t stupid. Something in the air shifted, your tone was harsh. Too harsh for his liking and your own good. Your tone was aggressive and he felt like you tried to hurt him with your remarks. Usually, they were all harmless, he even found you funny. But what was with the sudden change of tone?

“Come on, now. Why do you always pick on me?” Bucky tried to remain calm.

Forgot being calm! You were raging all of sudden. “Why would I pick on you, stop being so full of yourself.”

That’s it. That was the last straw.

“Hey, that stings!” Bucky was flustered, he walked closer to you, gaze piercing your back.

You sighed. You’re tired. You’ve been working all day and haven’t eaten since 8 am. It’s somewhere over 12 am now.

Fuck, you muttered to yourself. You need to shape the replacement panels to match the contours of the wing’s surface before riveting them. You got up and walked to the sheet metal bender, but Bucky stopped you.

With the faint hangar light on top of you both, now Bucky could fully take a look at your current state. You knew you looked terrible.

“Okay, you need to stop,” Bucky sighed. “Go to your barrack. You need to sleep.”

“I need to work.”

“She can wait. I’ll ask Lemmons to patch her up early in the morning,” Bucky said, his voice was authoritative. “Now, let’s get you some sleep.”

“No,” you tried to walk to the metal bender but his grip was strong.

“Come on, or I’m gonna abduct you.”

You almost rolled your eyes at that, but he quickly swept you off the ground. “Hey! Put me down!”

Despite the serious and cold air surrounding you both earlier, you could see how Bucky giggled. You always acted all tough, but you were just a girl for him. Your strength couldn’t even match him.

She’s cute, you didn’t know Bucky thought that right now.

He thought this was all just a joke, your mind stated.

“Nah, I’ll put you on your bed myself.”

You huffed in frustration, your attempts to free yourself only serving to make Bucky hold on tighter. "This isn't funny, Bucky! Put me down right now!"

But before Bucky could respond, his foot caught on a stray toolbox lying on the floor, sending you both tumbling to the ground in a tangled heap of limbs. With a yelp of surprise, you landed on top of him, your bodies pressed together in an awkward and unexpected embrace.

For a moment, you lay there in stunned silence, the only sound filling the air was the pounding of your hearts.

With a stupid grin on his face, Bucky smiled surprisingly sweetly, “Hello.”

As the realization of your predicament sunk in, your cheeks flushed crimson, maybe with anger or maybe with something else.

"Are you kidding me, Bucky?" you exclaimed, pushing yourself off him with a scowl. "I told you to put me down!"

Bucky winced while grinning sheepishly, rubbing his head where it had collided with the floor. He was fully sober now, thanks for the thud. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I didn't mean for us to fall."

You crossed your arms over your chest, your expression still stormy. "Well, it's not funny. You could have seriously injured yourself. You’re one of the best pilots we’ve got, what would happen if you got hurt?!"

Bucky sighed, his earlier amusement fading as he met your angry gaze. He got up, walked a step closer to you.

"You need to be worried about yourself. What is it, (Y/N)? You’re not usually this… tensed. Is something bothering you?”

Bucky put his hand on your shoulder. You stiffened at his touch, jerking away as if scalded.

"I'm fine," you snapped, your tone once again sharp and defensive.

Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion, hurt flickering in his eyes. "Hey, I was just asking. You don't have to bite my head off."

You didn’t want to meet his gaze. Your eyes wandered to the floor that suddenly became so interesting.

But you knew that Bucky wasn't about to let you off the hook that easily. "I don't buy it, (Y/N). You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."

You scoffed, rubbed your eyes slowly, “It’s nothing.”

“Hey, tell me,” Bucky now grabbed your arms and once again you stiffened at his gesture. You looked up as your gaze fell to his, eyes blinked rapidly. Your cheeks flushed as you once again broke eye contact and looked at the new interesting thing: the metal bender.

And a realization hit Bucky like a lightning. The way you laughed or rolled your eyes at his jokes despite being known as a serious fella, the way you looked at him before he took off, the way you always kept some distance…

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice softened. “I’ve never been this straightforward, but we don’t have much time… Do you like me?”

He could feel your muscles tensed under his touch. You still refused to look at him.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. Where did the tough, no-nonsense (Y/N) go?

“Hey, (Y/N), look at me,” Bucky asked you gently. He knew for sure that you held a feeling for him and he was too damn stupid to realize. He tried so hard to suppress his smile.

You looked up, his expression was soft and his eyes fixed on you with a gleam that made the butterflies crazy inside your stomach. You thought about every possible reaction: rejections, lots of yelling, a broken respect and trust, no more jokes and friendships… But you didn’t expect when he leaned closer and brought you in, when his lips touched yours with a gentleness you could only imagine.

Bucky’s lips tasted like a good amount of mint and alcohol mixture. You were intoxicated. He put his hand on your hip, the other caressed your cheek. His touch was a gentle yet firm anchor, drawing you closer to him in a silent declaration of desire. Your fingers traced the curves of your hips with a tender reverence, his touch sending shivers down your spine as you melted into his embrace.

He’d never imagine touching you, grabbing your crinkled jumpsuit as he kissed you deeper, his hands wandered. You felt a rush of warmth spreading through your body, igniting a fire within you that you couldn’t ignore. His hands, strong and sure from years of training, held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. His touch was both possessive and protective all at once.

When you both pulled away, trying to catch a breath, you saw Bucky smiling. His hands were still on your hips, now the right one stroke your cheek and your lips.

"You know, (Y/N), I've always admired you. The way you always know your way around an engine, your work ethic, your remarks, your replies to my jokes… I've always thought you were pretty amazing,” he whispered. “The way you handle those machines... it's something else. That’s why I always send my plane to you."

Your cheeks flushed slightly at the unexpected compliments, and you cleared your throat awkwardly. You were anything but flushed and fluttered.

"Well, I guess someone has to keep you flyboys in the air. Can't have you crashing and burning without us, right? You better treat her right up there or I'll make sure your next landing isn't so smooth."

Bucky grinned, feeling a surge of confidence after a heavy cloud towering you both earlier.

"Hey, what do you say we had a drink tomorrow? I’d like to discuss tonight's matter, after you had a good rest of course.”

Your heart raced at the thought of spending more time with Bucky outside of work. You were exhausted, but after what happened tonight, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep.

"I suppose one drink couldn't hurt. But don't think this means I'm going easy on you, Bucky. I've got a reputation to uphold, after all."

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sweetlittlegingy · 2 years

Text

Better Man

✦Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Better Man Universe

✦Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Single!Mother

✦Word Count: 6.7K

✦Warnings: Fluff, Angst, mentions of SA (previous relationship), self-hate, shitty schools, bullying, possible thoughts of suicide (on explicitly stated). Please let me know if I missed something.

✦A/n: Repost, the original is no longer showing up for me. I’m not sure what happened, if your seeing double I apologize.

✦Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

The incessant buzzing coming from your pocket continues, as you listen to Admiral Simpson and Admiral Bates go over mission plans. Attentively listening and marking down any changes that need to be made to the paperwork.

As the admirals Administrative Service Manager, you held the responsibility of keeping all things “Top Gun” in order: including incoming pilots, flight schedules, and the newly permanent Dagger Squadron.

You subduedly shift silencing the buzzing, again focusing on Cyclone and Warlock.

“I want a new set of recruits coming in, with Maverick training them.” Cyclone gives you a pointed look. “I want him to be on board by the end of the week. You both, can go over applicates and find those best fitted.”

You silently nodded, jotting down that you need to draft a letter for Mav and get it to him before Wednesday.

“With the success of the Uranium Mission, DC is going to want to see what else the Dagger Squadron can do. I want them flying new drills and layouts every day. Draft up a few different sets of flight plans, get them on my desk by Wednesday morning.”

“Of course, sir. Two days will be more than enough time to draft up three or four, and I will have a handful more done by next Monday.” You trail off as your phone starts buzzing again.

Pausing to grab it while Cyclone and Warlock keep chatting, you realize that it’s Mathews school calling. Raising your hand in a silent gesture, you glance up and ask if you can be excused for a moment. To which Cyclone nods, signaling to the hallway.

Rising up, you not so slowly, make your way to the door and press answer. Miss Clarks voice rings through your phone, telling you once again that Mathew has been called to the office.

“Miss Benjamin, you need to come in. Principle Davis wants to talk to you immediately. Mathew is fine, though he has been placed in the corner and will not be allowed recess time.” She mutters harshly.

You slowly shake your head and lean up against the wall, “What happened?” you question. Waiting for a response that doesn’t come. “I know that Mathew is not the only child at fault here. So, I’m going to ask again, what happened?”

You know that your sweet Mathew would never hurt someone without probably cause, and even then, it’s unlikely. Though this is the first call you’ve received from the school, you’ve been in three other times for words with the principal. Discussing another upper-class student that had been picking on Mathew.

The same excuse being thrown in your face that, none of the teachers saw the bullying and that Mathew was lying. Though the last time, Mathew told you that the other boy had pushed him and scrapped his knees. Markings on his knees, you saw during bath time, that night confirmed that he had been pushed.

Each visit you had, the school ignored you and claimed you to be an overprotective mother.

“Mathew hit another boy, Miss Benjamin.”

The statement shocks you at first, but then you question why Mathew hit him.

“Well Mathew says that he was hit first, but no one saw it.”

“You’re telling me, that my son was hit, then defended himself, and you didn’t think to lead the conversation with that information.”

Pushing off the wall you start to make your way to your office. “I will be there in 20 minutes.” Grabbing your purse, leaving the paperwork knowing that you will be coming back to the office enviably.

“Also, Miss Clark,” your voice steadily rises. “Get my child out of the damn corner.” You all but yell before hanging up on the woman.

Stepping out of your office and running into Lt. Bradshaw, you bounce off him. He grabs your arms steadying you, as you apologize.

“You okay there, Y/N” He questions quickly realizing how stressed you are.

You can feel the frustration seeping from your bones, tears lining your eyes. Working to steady your breathing, in any possible way to avoid crying.

A quick smile, that is in no way real, paints your lips, “Yes Bradley, I just need to go the Maty’s school.” Checking your purse, you make sure that you have your keys. “Can you do me a favor though?” Glancing up you see him intently listening, as if they would be orders from Commander Kazansky himself.

“I’m bringing Maty back here, I’ve got paperwork to finish, but I need someone to watch the munchkin.”

You pick at your nails, hating that you would have to ask for help. Though Amelia is still in class and Penny was deep cleaning the Hard Deck, so you had no one to ask.

“I know you guys are probably really busy, but could he hang out with you and Jake for a bit. He loves Uncle Roos, and I think that after today, getting to see the planes would cheer him up.” You add quietly that you understand if not, that you would figure it out.

“Y/N/N of course, I’m always available to hang with the little man. I’m free for the rest of the day actual.” He looks down sheepishly, “I was coming to tell you that a few of the plane’s radars were messing up, and that we would be down for a couple days.”

Taking a deep breathe, adding one more thing to your to-do list. You know that plane electronics can’t be helped, and that it should be a relatively easy fix. It just feels like so much more, added to your near melting brain.

You tell him that you’ll handle it, while walking together towards Cyclones office. Stepping in to get the two admirals’ attention, you let them know that you are taking your lunch now and will be back before one. They assure you that you are fine and that they trust you to get your job done, without them hounding on you.

Going to leave, Bradley follows you out. You head for your car, while he heads towards the east hanger. Though before he gets too far you, call back to him.

“B… Don’t tell Jake I was crying. Please… I don’t want to bother him.” You hold your hand up, blocking the glare of the sun on your face. “It was silly of me to cry anyway.”

The look he gives you clearly shows that he wants to comment on you saying that your emotions are silly, but he just nods an okay.

“Thanks B.” Thankful that he understands, you turn as he waves goodbye. Climbing in your car, for the 15-minute drive to Mathew’s school that will inevitably end in tears and a migraine.

Pulling up to the school, you wipe at your eyes. Trying to get the redness to go away, or at least look like you haven’t spent the last 15 minutes anger crying. The puffiness of your cheeks is a dead given away that something is wrong, though you hope that its subtle enough that Mathew won’t notice.

Your sweet baby was the most empathic and observant child you had even seen. A blessing and a curse to you both. In one way he was kind and loving and yet in another, much less helpful way, he noticed when anything hurt or upset you. Slowly becoming the protector of his momma, and carrying a load on his shoulders far heavier than any five-year-old should.

He was the light of your life and the only good thing that your ex gave you. Though you’d taken to claiming that your ex had no part in making Mathew. He was too kind to have any part of your ex in his DNA.

You were just thankful that he was the spitting image of you, and hadn’t been around his “father” long enough to pick up any traits. With your Y/H/C and the exact shade of skin tone, there was no denying he was your mini-me.

His eyes though, oddly enough were the exact same shade of green as Jakes. Something that everyone in your life liked to point out. Often making comments, that if they hadn’t known you like they did, “They would assume that Jake was the father.”

A thought that you wished had been true. Jake was wonderful with Mathew, and an amazing role model for him. Though you had only been official together for five months, Jake was always working to show you how much you both meant to him.

That alone was a hard enough concept to understand, when the only relationship you’d ever been in was the complete opposite.

Your ex-Adam had ruined your views on relationships, the five years you were together were some of the hardest you’d ever been through. Finally getting out just before Mathew turned three.

Adam had gotten handsy with you in front of Mathew, had pushed you to your breaking point and left you on the floor like an empty husk.

You still hate yourself for that night, because of you Mathew was in therapy once a week with nightmares. Recounting memories, that a then 2-and-a-half-year-old, shouldn’t remember.

It was your biggest regret, letting him see everything that happened.

The experience wasn’t something you talked about, finding that therapy only made it worse. Pushing the memories away and burying it in a hidden chest, at the back of your mind.

Gathering your purse, you move to get out of the car.

When you notice a missed call and text from Jake, “Hey darlin’ missing you. Rooster said you were picking up Maty early, everything okay?”

You quickly type back, that you just got to the school and would text him when you were back on base. Adding that you missed him as well, which caused a small smile to cross your lips.

Walking into the front doors, you immediately head to the office. Giving yourself a mini pep-talk in preparation for Principal Davis, and his ever-sexist comments.

Your eyes immediately go to Miss. Clark, who wears the lowest cut shirt that you’ve ever seen in an elementary school. Her head pops up from typing, as she hears the low click of your heels on the tile.

Your gaze is cast upon her, one that should put her 6-feet under.

“Where is Mathew?” You question, a harsh bite in your tone.

To which she studders out that they placed him in an extra room and told him to stay. The action should surprise you, but you’ve learned that this school clearly has lower morals and standards.

You walk straight passed her desk, without another word and push into the extra room. If it could even be called that, only the size of a “oversized” closet at best. The temperature change doesn’t go unnoticed.

There you see Maty, head resting on a table, as tiny shudders rack through his body. Rushing to his side, you softly go to cradle his small body. Falling to the floor on your knees, as a soft Momma falls from his lips.

Gently “shh”ing and rocking his body back and forth, like you did when he was a baby. As he quiets down you look into his tear-stained face, and your heart breaks a bit more.

“Sweet bubba, it’s okay. I got you, it’s okay.” His tears slowly turn into gentle whimpers.

Not wanting to upset him anymore, but knowing that you have to ask him questions before you see Davis.

“Darling, what happened? Are you hurt?” your eyes gently rank over his form, noticing how he hold his tummy.

“They belly flopped me momma.”

Your questioning gaze is enough that Mathew pulls up his shirt and you see a bright red mark across his belly. Anger seeps from you and your struggle to hid it behind a smile. Not wanting him to see how upset you are.

Rising up you grab his backpack and carry Mathew out into the main office.

Your voice snaps across the office, stilling Miss Clarks typing fingers.

“Miss Clark, I am going to be checking Mathew out. I am also going to have a few words with Principal Davis, and I suggest you take Mathew out into the hallway to look at the new mural being painted.” Your tone leaves no room for suggestion.

You set Maty down and give him a little wink, pushing him to hallway as Miss Clark follows. You turn sharply and stare straight at the closed door that hasn’t moved once since you’d arrived. Pacing to the door you knock and walk in without waiting for an answer. If he wants to lack human decency with your child, then you can do the same.

Your sudden entrance startles the middle-aged man, jolting him from his chair and the nap he seemed to be taking.

His lingering eyes rake up and down your form, as a sleazy smile forms on his face. The look makes you shudder, awaking distant memories and feelings.

He gets up to make a move for you, “Miss Benjamin, I’m glad you could make it. Please sit.”

You state that you’d rather stand, though he doesn’t listen and makes a motion for you. His hand moves to your lower back, in an unwelcomed gesture. Brushing his hand off, you glare at the hand.

“You see Miss Benjamin, Mathew is a troubled boy and needs handled.”

The word “handled” makes your skin crawl as you listen.

“He doesn’t listen and clearly has no male role model, from the ringless finger I can see.” You bite your tongue as he moves to sit on his desk, directly in front of you.

“Now I think that we,” he motions to the both of you, “can work on this. Fix his attitude and make him into a child, someone would actually want. One that not picking fights for attention, especially ones with older children he can’t beat.” He finishes with a chuckle.

The steam must be rising from you, the anger that is completely incasing your body feels like you might set the whole world on fire.

As you rise from your chair, words laced with venom drip from your tongue ready to kill, meteorically and literally.

“You have no right to comment on my child and how he is raised. I think it best if you step off your damn high horse, before I knock you off it.” Your finger jabs at his chest. “You should be damn happy I’m not reporting you to the school board, for neglect and harassment.”

You stand up, ready to be out of his presence.

“Mathew will be pulled from the school; I’m absolutely done with you and everyone in this school.” Pulling the door open you look back at him, “If anything comes from the assault done to my son’s stomach, whether it be lasting pain or marks….. I will, fucking ruin you.”

With that you leave, shaking at the audacity of the man. How he touched you, insinuated that Mathew needed fixed, and most of all the absolute lack of care, that he should have had for both children in the situation.

The other child that Mathew hit was nowhere in sight and clearly didn’t get in trouble. You know that hitting isn’t the answer, but Mathew was defending himself against a bigger child. This whole situation was handled poorly, as it has been every other time you’ve came in for bullying. This was the final straw and you’re done.

You gasp as you make your way to grab Mathew from Miss Clark, barely able to keep the tears at bay. Gently buckling Maty up into his car seat, you place a kiss on his forehead as he wipes a tear from your cheek.

“Don’t be sad momma.”

You mutter an I love you and climb back into your seat, ready to never see that school again.

Your tears don’t go unnoticed by the three men as you pull back up to your office. Jake, Robert, and Bradley all exchange looks as you park and get out of the car. You avoid their gazes as you get Mathew out of the car.

“Uncle Roo, can we look at the planes?” Mathew yells to the men as he notices them, a massive smile forming, and his horrible day forgotten.

“Yeah buddy, all the planes. Bob even said he’d let you be Nat’s new WSO.” Bradley laughs and then gives a knowing look to Jake.

“Your Momma and Jake are gonna go pack up her work for the day, then get you a bag ready to have a sleep over with me.”

You go to comment, but Jake steps forward. Wrapping his arm around your waist, “Cyclone already knows darlin’. You and me are gonna work on flight plans at home, then have a nice relaxing night.” He finishes with a loving kiss on your cheek, that you can’t help but to lean into.

Your body relaxes in his embrace, dropping your shoulders you lean father into his touch. Craving it like a warm blanket, that you unwillingly want to admit, you need.

Mathew is bouncing at the thought of a sleepover and asks Bob if he is coming too, to which he replies of course. The trio goes to turn away, though not before Maty comes rushes back, giving you and Jake hugs.

“Love you momma. Love you Jake.” He says it so childlike that you can’t help, and be a tad envious. Jake quickly lifts Mathew and gives him tickle, telling him to listen to his uncles. Before setting him down and brushing a kiss onto the top of his head.

“I love you too, buddy.”

You watch as Maty walks off, relaxing knowing that he is feeling better and knowing that if he showed the slightest sign of discomfort Bradley would call. You rest your head gently against Jake’s chest, taking a few deep breathes and silently hold yourself together.

His arm slips from your waist, up to cradle the side of your face making you look into his eyes. A green so deep that you could get lost in, if you only let yourself.

“Darlin’”

You quietly shake your head in protest, knowing that it he asks you might break down.

The tears built around the edge of your eyes, and you quickly cast your face down. Unwilling to let him see you break.

To be another hassle in his life.

A mess, that he would realize wasn’t worth the work.

Though he gently kisses your forehead, letting you be for now and pulls you towards the building.

Hands clasped tightly together, like he’s afraid to lose you through the cracks within your broken heart.

Jake stays by your side as you make your way through the building and to your office. Only letting go of your hand, so that you can grab your laptop and paperwork. You slowly pack everything that you need into a tote, your movements lagging.

Feeling completely drained and over the day. You can feel yourself pulling back into a shell, unsure how to function with another person right now.

You weren’t used to people helping when you had a hard day, or break down. Only that you weren’t supposed to show your emotions, because if you did it would end so much worse.

A screaming match, about how inconsiderate it was that you let your mood seep into other people’s lives. That if you could just fucking smile for once, then maybe people would like you.

The thought makes you look to Jake and give him a fake smile, in hopes that he doesn’t realize how much it hurts.

He notices but doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a reassuring kiss on the cheek and takes the tote from you, to carry out to the car.

“Where are your keys darlin’?”

He questions, replying before you can protest.

“I want to drive sweets, okay. I want to take care of you.”

Worry clouds your brain, but you’re too tired to make a fuss.

“Thank you” you say as you place them in his out reached hand.

“Always baby.” He states it so matter a factly that your heart flutters. The wink that follows, makes it skip a beat.

The drive home is fast, your wandering mind lost in thought. Jakes hand rests steady against your thigh, a gently rubbing motion to sooth you.

Walking up into your quaint little beach house, the final bit of anxiety leaves your body. Finding comfort in being home, in your safe space. Jake silently follows you up the steps and locks the door once you’re both inside.

Your body’s frozen; you stand quietly in the hallway, unsure of what to do. Jakes comes up to rest behind you, carefully wrapping you in his arms. Afraid that the slightest touch will send you spiraling.

“Why don’t you go take a nice shower sweets? Relax, decompress and I will make you some tea for after your done.”

You squeeze his hands in a silent thank you and head to the bathroom.

Your face looks tired and broken, and as you stare at your reflection, those tears that you worked so hard to hold in fall. You switch on the shower, to silence the sobs that are wreaking havoc upon your mind and body.

You shed your clothes and step into the burning water, in hopes to erase the feeling of Davis’ hands on you.

Memories of past and present blend together, making it difficult to ground yourself, to know that you’re safe.

Davis’ hand, becomes HIS hands on you. A ringing in your ears echoes a distant memory of the screams that were ripped from your body.

The incident today, shattered your tough girl façade. The box that you worked so hard to bury, ripped up, meant to consume everything in its path.

Both of their hand blending into one, pushing on the small of your back.

Down farther, suffocating and screaming out at the same time.

Your back crashes against the tile walls, as you slip to the floor. Memories flashing through your mind; the way you yelled stop and how you begged Maty to look away. His sweet baby eyes, watching as you were ripped apart.

You should have worked harder to make him stop.

To make sure Mathew couldn’t see or hear.

But you didn’t.

You failed him in that moment

And you hate yourself for it.

A sudden slam jolts you from your thoughts, and a worried Jake is standing there. Infront of the broken in door, chest heaving and wild-eyed. He falls to his knees as a broken sob, escapes your lips.

Climbing into the shower, fully clothed, to hold on to your trembling body. It’s only then that you notice the water is freezing and that you must have lost track of time.

He mutters sweet nothings into your ear, softly creasing your back. He shifts your body momentarily way from his chest, to turn of the stream of cold water. Shifting back, you clutch onto his shirt. Clinging to the warmth that radiates off him, and the feeling of safety that you can always find in his embrace.

Breathing in the familiar smell of jet fuel mixed with sandalwood and black pepper, your mind fights to regain clarity. That you are home, safe in Jakes arms.

Not caring what horrible outcome awaits you once you explain your panic attack.

Once he finally realizes out how damaged you are.

You won’t blame him, if you could get away from yourself you’d run too.

Though, for this moment you need him. To be able to savor this moment and memorize it for once you’ve lost it. Tuck it away deep within your soul, a memory that a one point he loved you.

He’s never said it, but you’d like to think that he does. At least loves the version of you that is still nice and shiny. He couldn’t ever love the one that’s real, broken, and damaged beyond repair. How could anyone love something so pitiful.

Pulling back, the words fall from your mouth before you can even think to stop them.

The harsh truth.

“I wasn’t enough Jake.” A gasp falls from your mouth, more tears crash down your face.

“I should have tried harder. To stop Adam. To protect Maty. To make the school listen.” Your head shakes in silent disappointment in yourself.

“I could have been better, for Maty, for you.”

“But I failed, and I’m just so tired of trying.”

Your head lays resting against Jake’s chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart. Trying to slow your gasping breaths. His hand rests on the back of your head, gently rocking the both of you.

“I’m so tired of doing it alone.” You pull away from him, to look in his eyes as you lay the truth of your relationship out.

“But it’s not your job and I can’t push that on you. You shouldn’t have to come in and take care of a child that isn’t yours.”

You can see Jake silently shaking his head, as tears start to fall from his eyes.

“I’m just so angry. At how broken and lonely I feel. How I’ve pushed you away, because I’m scared of losing you.” Words continue to fall from your lips, until Jake gentle grabs your face.

He takes a shuddered breath in, his voice cracking slightly.

“Y/F/N look at me.”

Your tear-stained eye stare at each other, a plea asking you to listen.

The hand cradling your face, settles your trembling lip. His other hand comes up to push your soaked hair out of your face. His body heat warms you, and his eyes show nothing but pure love and heartbreak. Like seeing you in so much pain is slowly breaking his heart too.

Your heart aches as you see the tears streaming down his face, gently you reach a shaking hand up to cup his cheek. His hand rises to cradle the one covering his cheek, both your foreheads fall together.

“Darlin’ let me make one thing clear, you and Mathew are the best damn thing that has ever happen to me. From the moment I met you, before we ever got together, I knew I wanted you.”

His words sound foreign to your ears, and you mind sits telling you that he’s lying. But his eyes, the green that you’re in love with, they hold such truth, and you chose to believe he’s not lying.

“Come on, let get you dressed, and we can talk.” He stands with ease, carrying your form as if you were as light as air. “I think we’re both gonna need that cup of tea to warm up. Unless you wanna share body heat, sweets.”

He gives you a wink and you can’t stop the girlish giggles that abrupt from you. The way that he can brighten your mood with the smallest gestures, still amazes you.

“There’s my girl.”

Dressed in fuzzy socks and one of Jake’s old navy shirts, you curl up on the couch as Jake reheats the water for your tea. He comes around the corner moments later with two cups of tea; chamomile for you, his momma always told him it was calming, and peppermint for him.

It reminded him of Christmas, the one-time when everyone in his family got along. The yearly tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve at mid-night, then having a family dinner Christmas night. A joyous atmosphere filled the house, as his mother baked and sisters hand pick which Christmas records to play.

It was a tradition that he hoped to start with you and Mathew, creating your own rendition of the family Christmas.

The sweatpants hang low on his hips, your eyes roam over his torso slowly. Taking in each hard line and the tan skin, your eyes slowly make it up to his face and a cocky smile rests on his lips.

“Like what you see darlin’”

A blush covers your cheeks as you realize that you’ve been caught, once again.

“You’re just so pretty.” You reply, a matching blush covers his cheeks. Happy that you got the desired reaction out of him.

He settles into the seat beside you, handing you your tea, and brushing a gentle kiss against your brow. He pulls your covered feet to rest in his lap and covers you both up with a blanket.

He gently strokes your calf and takes a sip of tea, before asking you what happened today.

So, you start for the beginning. Telling him about your meeting this morning and how the school called. Relaying to him that they put Mathew in a freezing room and how he was just defending himself.

“It was that 2nd grader, Jake. The one that’s been picking on him, Thomas, Timmy…”

“Toby, Darlin’” Jake answers for you, causing your head to snap up in silent questioning.

“Maty, he brought him up to me the other day. I didn’t mention it, well because” he rubs the back of his neck and looks down sheepishly. “I may have told him… that if Toby touched him, they he was allowed to defend himself.”

A smile graces your face, realizing how much he carries about Mathew.

“Then I showed him how to throw a punch.”

With that a full laugh falls from your lips, surprising Jake completely. He was prepared to get his butt chewed, but here you are in a fit of laughter.

“I’m sorry..” You struggle to catch your breath. “It’s just, I’ve been wanting to knock that second grader on his ass sense he pushed Maty.”

Jake releases a blusterous laugh, shaking his head, and a teasing smile directed at you.

You sink farther into the couch and talk a large sip of your tea. Your body finally relaxing, causing your shoulders to drop and your legs to stretch farther into Jakes lap.

You continue on, telling him how Miss Clark wasn’t helpful and how your pretty positive the Principal Davis was sleeping before you barged into his office.

The pause you take to collect your thoughts and calm your racing mind, doesn’t go unnoticed. Though Jake patiently waits, giving you time, and when you’ve taken a few deep breaths Jake motions you to go on.

Blowing out a puff of air, you calm the rage that slowly rises in you from thinking about Principal Davis.

“He’s just horrible Jake. Every time I’ve came to him about Toby or the other boys, he called me overprotective, and said that Mathew is the child at fault.”

His hand remains on your calf, rubbing. You’re not sure if it’s to sooth you or him.

“Then he stood there and implied that he and I could “work together”” you motion quotations with your hands, “to fix the problem. That he clearly didn’t have a male role model, and my ringless finger was the proving point.”

His hand only stops for a moment when you say ringless, but it’s long enough that you notice his pause.

“The man is so damn aggravating.”

You blow out a breath of air, moving the now partially dry hair that fell across your face. Jake reaches up and moves the strand behind your ear, his hand then falling to cress your cheek before you continue.

“He’s got entitlement issues and has no respect for personal space.” The words rush out of your mouth, before you realize how they might affect Jake.

“The way his hands felt… God, they just made my skin crawl. It was just too much.”

His hand stills on your leg completely and you can feel his body transform; from your soft and gentle Jake to Hangman, the man that had look death in the eyes and laughed.

You look up and his face is void of all emotions, but anger.

“Darlin’ I need you to be very clear with me.” his voice is laced with such venom, that you would be terrified of him, if you couldn’t still see the gentleness in his eyes.

“Are you telling me that Davis touched you?”

You nod, ashamed of the action “He only touched my lower back, and I shouldn’t make it into such a big deal, but it just felt wrong.”

Jake stares back at you with a hardness you’ve never seen.

“Y/N no one is ever, allowed to touch you without your permission. I don’t care what the circumstances are, or what you’ve been told in the past.” He blows out a shuddered breath.

“Baby I am not even allowed to touch you, without your permission.” Both his hands are now holding up your face, making sure you look at him. “Do you understand that?

The tears that fill your eyes are answer enough.

He knew enough of your past, to know what little value you had for yourself.

Jake had woken up with Mathew on nights that he’d spent the night, the young boy crying out after a nightmare. In the beginning Jake just wanted to give you a break and let you sleep, but he soon realized that Maty needed the extra time with him as well. The little boy had opened up to Jake, telling him about his dreams and memories. Explaining that he couldn’t tell momma, because it made you cry.

Those nights lying awake with Mathew, while rubbing his back to sooth him and help him fall asleep, were some of Jakes most treasured moments. The need to take care Maty and be the stable father-figure in his life, continuously grew. To the point that Jake no longer saw a life without you and his little boy.

You didn’t have to explicitly tell Jake what you had went through, he knew enough and if you ever changed your mind, he would listen. Grateful that you wanted to share that part of you, but it wouldn’t be something he pushed.

No, he would just continuously keep working to show you your worth and how much he loved you. He hadn’t told you yet how much he loved you, to afraid to scare you off, but he knew that you were it for him the first time that he met you.

Papers strewn around the floor in your office, while you sat in the middle, contemplating different flight tracks and patterns. You hadn’t realized he’d come into your office, until he made a coughing sound to gain your attention.

You looked at him with such seriousness, mad at him for interrupting your work and when he asked you where the admiral was, you glanced at your watch before muttering “lunch” at him like he was a complete idiot.

He knew then that you were everything that he wanted; dedicated to your work, beautiful, and wouldn’t put up with his shit. Mathew was an added bonus, one that he wouldn’t change for all the money in the world.

“Darlin’, you and Mathew are the most precious and important people in my life. I will do anything and everything to make you realized how loved you are.”

You mouth dropped up, sitting in stunned silence.

“You love me? You love us?”

The look you give him, makes him chuckle and run a hand through his hair.

“Sweets you are one of the smartest women that I’ve ever met, but how in the world have you not seen that I have been, head over heels in love with you, since the first time we met?” His Texas accent rings clear in your ear. Laying on heavy whenever he calls you sweets.

“Jake, the first time we met was three and a half years ago. When I first started working on base?” The questioning tone you reply with is clear as day.

“Yeah, I know.”

“We just started dating 10 months ago though?”

“Yeah, I spent a year and a half trying to take you out.”

A hand comes to rub at the back of his neck, as he looks away shyly in a way you’d never seen. Gone was your cocky, self-assured pilot, in his place, a boy that looked worried about getting the girl in high school.

“You know how much the guys made fun of me? Told me I was whipped, and I didn’t even have the girl yet.”

A blush covers your cheeks, as you realize just how oblivious you’d been. Though you can’t help but smile, your heart filling with hope and possibility.

“You don’t need to say it back..”

You cut him off before he can finish, pulling him down into a kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his neck. You pour all of your pent-up emotions into the kiss, silently trying to communicate how much you love him.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you to settle on his lap. As you pull away his hand settles on your cheek, eyes staring into the abyss that is your soul.

“Jacob Grant Seresin, I love you more than words can equivalate to. You are the man that I’ve wanted my whole, and never thought I was worthy of.”

More tears fall from your eyes, though these are pure happiness.

“Thank you for taking a chance on the mess that I am, and I’m sorry for making you wait for so long.” Your giggle at the end, breaks into full blown laughter as Jake tickles you. Pushing you down onto your back, he peppers kisses across your face.

“You should be darlin’, it was torture.” He gives you one last kiss “I’d do it a thousand time over though, as long as it for you.”

“My mess, my girl.”

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

Later that night:

“Thank you for helping me with the flight plans, I really didn’t need Cyclone on my ass.” You kiss Jakes waiting lips as you climb in bed for the night.

“Course darlin’”

He gently pulls you back to rest against his chest, peppering kisses on the top of your head. You can’t help but to snuggle deeper into him and the blankets.

“Also, I talk to Rooster and he’s going to bring Mathew to base in the morning. I figured he could hang out with the team. Then if you can get off a bit earlier, we could go by the school on base.”

You go to ask what he was up to.

But he quickly answers, “I called Bob’s wife Lacy, she is a teacher at the school, and she said that their kindergarten teacher is amazing. Also, that they would love to have us come by, and see if it was a good fit.”

You can’t help but be amazed. Wondering how you could have been so clueless and not seen the love that this amazing man has for you and Mathew.

“I love you, that sounds perfect. Thank you.”

Jake moves to shut of the bedside lamp, giving you a sweet kiss. Your lips melting together perfectly. You can feel yourself falling into unconsciousness, your body grateful to finally relax and welcomes the darkness.

Though before you can drift out you feel Jake shift around, nuzzling into your neck as his arm wrap securely around your waist. His body heat encompasses you, causes you to relax even more. Soft kisses are placed on your neck, little ones that you can barley feel.

“Darlin’ don’t think that I forgot about that jackass Davis.”

You stiffen up only slightly, though Jake continues his kisses. Falling just at your jaw line, his hands slide under your shirt and cress your stomach. His gentleness reassures you, and you chose to focus his moments more than his words.

“I don’t want you worrying.”

He places a kiss behind your ear,

“I’m just gonna have a talk with him.”

One on your cheek,

“Make sure he knows that you are mine, even without a ring on your finger.”

A soft fleeting kiss on the lips, that has you chasing his mouth as he pulls away. A cheeky smile stares down at you, before he gently grabs your left hand and kisses your finger.

A silent promise.

When you fall asleep, you can’t help but dream about that promise.

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geminijade · 6 months

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What Are We?

A/N: a fluffy fic with Jake and Y/N. Some parental angst. Mentions of death. Alcohol consumption. Jake being cocky but also boyfriend material. That man is a warning, mmkay. Enter at your own risk. You and only you are responsible for your reading material. Likes, hearts, comments and reblogs are definitely appreciated ❤ happy reading everyone!!!

Requested? No. This idea has been kicking around in my head for a while and it'll probably flop and I'm ok with that but at least I got it out of my head and down onto paper so to speak. Maybe a part two depending on how well this does and if I'm feeling creative 🤔

You moved to San Diego to be closer to your older sister who was stationed at North Island Naval Air Station. It was under less than ideal circumstances, your parents passing away unexpectedly and your sister Nat came back home to help you with the funerals and selling your parents house and packing everything up. She found the both of you a cute little two bedroom bungalow right on the beach. So while your sister got to hang out with hot pilots all day you got to stay at home and unpack and get the house set up. You decided to just get your room in working order and then try to find a restaurant for lunch and drinks.

You're standing in your room, looking at yourself in the full length mirror. You decided on a cute pair of cut off shorts and a tank top paired with a cute pair of beachy flip flops. The salty ocean air is coming through your second floor bedroom window and you put up light purple breezy curtains. You definitely lucked out and got the best bedroom, all by yourself on the second floor and facing the ocean. You loved waking up with the sound of the ocean waves crashing on the beach and the sun filtering through the gauzy curtains.

You put your still wet hair in a loose braid, grabbed your purse and bounced down the stairs. Giving yourself one last look in the mirror you grabbed your keys and locked the door. You decided to go to The Hard Deck for two simple reasons: your sister said that it was the go to place to see and be seen and it was in walking distance if you decided to have a drink with lunch today. You stepped outside and slid your oversized glasses off your head and onto your nose and took off in the direction of the bar. You made it in about 15 minutes and let yourself into the cool, dark interior of the mostly empty bar.

Penny was behind the bar washing some glasses and Amelia was sitting on the opposite side, notebooks and textbooks spread all over the top of the bar. They both looked up at you as the bell above the door signaled your arrival. They smiled at you and Amelia jumped up and ran to give you a hug. "Y/N! I missed you so much!! I want to come over and help you set up the new place."

You look over at Penny and she shrugs and nods. "I had an idea but you might want to run it past Phoenix first." You slung your arm around Amelia and steered her back towards the bar and sat next to her. "What's your idea, Pen?" She finished what she was doing and made her way towards you. "I thought that we could get the squadron to pitch in and help you out, if you want. "

You mulled it over and at your look of uncertainty Amelia interjected. "Maverick would totally want to pitch in and the others will fall in." At your questioning look Penny filled in the blanks. "Rooster, Hangman, Bob, Fanboy, Payback, Coyote and obviously Phoenix. We'll make it a whole day! It'll be so much fun!!" Amelia clapped with excitement and you couldn't help but smile because of their enthusiasm.

You placed an order for southwestern grilled chicken wrap and a strawberry mojito and sat back down next to Amelia and you two started talking about what you wanted to do while you're here. You didn't consider this place to be home but maybe it could be. You liked the idea of putting roots down and staying in one place for the foreseeable future. Amelia was rambling on about all of the fun things that you could do this summer and you were honestly only half listening to her when the bell above the door signaled the arrival of your sister leading the way with a bunch of ridiculously tall, hot and insanely in shape men. Maverick made his way to the bar and dropped a kiss on Amelia's forehead.

"Hey Pete," you stood up and made your way to where he was standing and he pulled you into a hug. "Hey kiddo, how are you holding up?" You mumbled into his shoulder "I'm ok." You could feel him nod his head and he let you end the hug and watched him greet Penny with a kiss. Amelia rolled her eyes and started making gagging noises but you thought that it was really sweet. You got lost in thought about your last relationship and how long it's been when you heard your sister say "let me introduce you."

You looked up in time to see your sister making her way through the growing crowd and you stood up to meet her half way with a hug. You'd be lost without her and she knows it. Looking over her shoulder you see a group of guys hovering on the outside of the bar. Phoenix follows your gaze and says "this is my backseater Bob," you smile politely and shake the shy man's hand. He's adorable in his glasses and you tell him as much.

A shy smile creeps over his features and you thank him for always having Nat's back. "Always," he said just loud enough for you and Nat to hear him. "I like him," you whispered to Nat. "He's definitely a keeper," she said to you as she bumped shoulders with Bob. She introduced you to the rest of the squadron: Rooster was rocking the deadly combo of 80s pornstache and hawaiian shirt but oddly enough it worked for him and you let him know that.

"Hey Hawaii 5-0, you wanna buy me a drink?" You shouted at Rooster across the bar and he gave you an incredulous look and ambled over to you. "I got you, what you want sweetheart?" You looked up at him and stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. He gave you a cheeky grin and told Penny what you wanted. Penny looked at you and arched her eyebrow and gave you a knowing look. Nat introduced you to the rest of the squad: Fanboy and Payback were too cute for words and Coyote was flying solo.

Phoenix was chatting with Bob and some civilians while you're talking with Rooster and the guys Penny calls out " one screaming orgasm cocktail for Y/N!" You can feel all the eyes on you as a blush crawled up your neck and you heard a texas drawl behind you "someone called my name?" You turned around and almost bumped into the most gorgeous man that you ever saw. Over six feet tall, sandy blond hair and the greenest eyes that you just wanted to get lost in. "Cat got your tongue?" The blond man asked as he winked at you and handed you your drink.

Your fingers briefly touched and the alcohol was giving you liquid courage you took the drink and downed it a few gulps. You glanced over at your sister who was preoccupied with the hottie who was laying it on thick and you suddenly felt flustered and needed some fresh air. He must have sensed that you needed to get out of here because you watched him pay for your drink and let Phoenix know that you'd be with him. You watched as he walked towards you and said " let's get out of here, yeah?" You placed your hand on his chest "whoa cowboy, I don't even know your name. " He grinned down at you and you noticed his dimples for the first time.

"Name's Jake, Sweetheart. What's your name?" You stuck out your hand and introduced yourself. "Y/N Trace." Jake gently took your hand in his and brought it to his lips. "It's nice to meet you, " you said. "The pleasure is all mine, Y/N." You took a page from Jake's book and winked at him. "Not yet but it will be. "

Penny must have noticed the smoldering stare between the two of you. "Get a room you two!!" Your face started to feel warm and Jake pointed to the sign above the bar. Penny looked over her shoulder at the sign and back to you and Jake. "Rules are rules, Pen." With all eyes on Penny, Jake placed his hand on your lower back and led you to the patio where the sun was just starting to set.

You couldn't help but be mesmerized by the different beautiful colors in the sky. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" You asked Jake and you turned to look at him to see if he was watching the sunset but he was watching you. "Definitely stunning. " He noticed you visibly gulp because his eyes were glued to you. "Are we talking about the same thing?"

Jake gave you a shy smile and sheepishly shrugged his shoulders. "I think that what's in front of me is pretty damn beautiful." You felt yourself shiver in the growing darkness but you honestly didn't know if it was because of the cold weather seeping in from the ocean or from Jake's flirty words. Jake noticed you shiver and slipped his black bomber jacket around your shoulders. "You're a charmer, Jake Seresin. "

"Can I take you home, please?" He offered you his arm and you slipped into his jacket and caught the smell of his cologne mixed in with the salty ocean air. You stepped closer to him and linked arms as you took off in the direction of your house. You walked in comfortable silence for a bit, you just wanted to remember this moment. As you turned onto your block and your house came into view you started fumbling with your purse trying to get your keys out. "Here, let me."

Jake whispered quietly as he gently took your purse from you and found your keys and the one labeled home. "Thank you, " you mumbled into his shoulder and he guided you up the stairs and you winced at the motion actived light as Jake unlocked your front door and helped you inside, he held you steady as you slipped off your sandals. He closed the door and locked it behind you. He watched you on unsteady feet as you tried to get upstairs. He was worried that you were going to fall or hurt yourself so he came up behind you and picked you up like you weighed next to nothing.

Your head lolled against his chest and he walked down to the last door on the right and toed it open. He sat you down gently at the foot of your bed and pulled down the covers for you. You smiled up at him lazily and he looked around your room. He walked over to your dresser and opened the top drawer and got a quick glimpse into your panty drawer and slammed it shut. You laughed at the expression on his face and said that your pajamas were in the third drawer, he pulled it open and handed you a pair of booty shorts and a tank top.

You took the clothing from him and went into your closet to change. Jake walked down the hall to the bathroom that he passed on the way and got you a glass of water and some headache medicine. He came back to find you snuggled up under your comforter. You smiled at each other and you made grabby motions for him and he sat down next to you and interlocked your fingers. "Do you want to stay?" Jake leaned over and kissed your forehead.

"As tempting as your offer is I really don't want to deal with your pissed off sister. " You chuckled into your blanket and he stood up and you whined as he let go of your hand. "I don't want this day to end, " you muttered as you fell asleep to Jake whispering "we'll make another one just like it tomorrow. " He quietly made his way out of your room, leaving your door slighty ajar. He was letting himself out of your house as Phoenix was coming up the walkway with her shoes in hand.

The silence was extremely awkward as they passed each other with a nod of acknowledgement. Phoenix turned around to see Jake's back as he walked back towards The Hard Deck where he left his car. "Hurt her and I'll end you, Seresin. Y/N took the passing of our parents really hard and she's vulnerable right now." Jake turned to look at Phoenix and gave her a salute as he turned back around and continued on his way.

The night breeze carried back his words "wouldn't dream of it, boss." Phoenix barely heard his words and it brought a smile to her face. It's all that she wanted for you, for you to be happy and if being with Jake made you happy that's all that matters. Phoenix shut and locked the door and quietly crept into your room. She saw that Jake had helped you change into pajamas and left out water and pain relivers for you.

It helped to put Phoenix at ease about Jake's intentions towards you. She looked down lovingly at you and brushed the hair off of your forehead. She kissed your forehead and pulled the blankets up and around your shoulders. She hoped that you would fall in love with San Diego and stay with her and if Jake helped her out then she was definitely okay with him sticking around.

~fin~ for now😉

@so-she-reads

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pinturas-sgm-aviacion · 1 year

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1944 02 20 Hellcat in Action, Squadron Signal - Don Greer

F6F-3 Hellact Alex Vraciu VF-6 USS Intrepid. 9 victories at the end of February 1944

Navy F6F-3 #40467 flown by Lt. Alex Vraciu of the Fighting Squadron 6 shows 9 kill marks. With part of Task Force 58 seen streaming below, Vraciu is flying C.A.P. (Combat Air Patrol). At war's end in 1945, Vraciu was the Navy's 4th highest ace with 19 confirmed kills.The Grumman F6F Hellcat is an American carrier-based fighter aircraft of World War II. Designed to replace the earlier F4F Wildcat and to counter the Japanese Mitsubishi A6M Zero, it was the United States Navy's dominant fighter in the second half of the Pacific War.

#Don Greer #squadron signal #damn i'm good

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pinturas-sgm-tanques · 1 year

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bonus tracks

1944 11 East Prussia, Panzer IV in action - Don Greer - Squadron Signal

improved colors

#Don Greer #squadron signal

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b33zlebubz · 1 month

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RIGOR MORTIS | CHAPTER SEVEN

SIMON RILEY X AFAB READER | 18+ MDNI | MASTERLIST | AO3 PREV CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER TAGS: reader uses she/her pronouns, fluff angst & eventual smut, blood violence & death, suicidal ideology, slow burn, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, toxic workplace environment, flashbacks “Abandoned in a battlefield with the one person you thought you would never see again; you're forced to come to terms with the ghosts of your past."

WEDNESDAY APRIL 24TH 2024 MEXICO, 0000 HOURS

The pain in your chest is getting worse.

It's hard to sleep that night for many reasons. One: with all the rain of the other night it's hard to find any wood dry enough for a fire. Mexico has relatively tame weather compared to what you're used to, but Springtime is a whole different beast, inconsistent and unpredictable. Nearly ninety degrees in the daytime and then dropping down to the fifties at night, you find yourself sweating all day just to be freezing and damp when the sun sets. The thin blanket you pull out of the back of a wrecked truck doesn't help much and neither does the fact that you've developed a fever.

Two: you're definitely sure you have at least one broken rib. The first day after the battle you had the adrenaline to numb the pain, but now that it's faded, it's easier to notice how it takes a great deal of effort just to breathe without your lungs spasming painfully. Each breath aches, rattling in your chest. You can't put pressure on your side without seeing stars and the bruises are damn near black across the expanse of your ribs. Still, you won't rest more than a few hours at a time—knowing that the second you do, you might not be able to get up again.

And that brings you to the last thing; the radio is still dead silent.

You're staring at the ceiling, leaning back against the truck's wall as you listen to it; the static. The charge has died twice now and both times you've revived it with an emergency battery. Once that runs out, you plan to charge it with the SUV. The longer you listen to the buzz of an empty signal paired with the steady sound of Ghost's breathing beside you, the longer you get to thinking about what might happen if nobody comes to find you.

You think about the first time you put your survival training to use; left for dead in some safe house during your tour in Yemen, left by your squadron in a rushed retreat. Back then, the pain in your side had been a nasty knife wound to your ribs, but now it was shattered bone and bleeding organs. The longer you listen to the static the easier it is to recall the coldness of concrete on your skin, the burn of sand-caked sweat and blood in your eyes. The sputtering static of your comms picking up no signal and the growing panic of being forgotten. The blood. The death. The memory once so far away now felt tangible again; real.

It's funny. The longer time went on the easier it was to forget about moments where you weren't so strong, but it was also easier to get lost in them whenever they unearthed themselves at the most inconvenient of times.

Then a warm hand on your shoulder shatters the illusion—and you panic.

Within moments, you're up again. You grab the unknown enemy by the front of his shirt and force him back against the floor with an audible thunk—causing weapons and gear to swing and the truck’s suspension to bounce. When the red clears from your vision, your eyes are locked with two tired, brown irises blown wide with surprise as your grip tightens on his wrists against the floor.

Shocked to your core, your body goes rigid.

You lost a lot of your usual muscle mass during your first few weeks in Camp Viking; after Yemen and everything else that happened. Stress, too much sleep or not enough, and a complete lack of appetite were a fatal combo to all the progress you made after signing your life away—so when Ghost met you, you were the weakest you've been since before joining the military.

Now: your shoulders are broader, arms and legs thicker and crisscrossed with ragged scars. Skin glistens with the sweat of a fever as you hold him, still bigger than you, pinned to the floor.

The breath knocked from his lungs; he's panting. You're close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your face, to see how your own labored breathing stirs the hair laying on his forehead. Close enough to realize you've only ever seen him out of breath like this one other time—

Christmas Day.

His eyes flash with something familiar and you know he remembers it, too.

You shoot off of him in an instant. Mind reeling, you turn to leave. Run. Do something to quell the fire in your veins and the burn of memories in your delirious mind.

"Angel, wait—"

The nickname falls on deaf ears. Before he can gather his bearings enough to scramble upright, you've grabbed the radio and disappeared into the night with a burning face and a newfound heat in your bones.

WEDNESDAY APRIL 26TH 2024 MEXICO, 0300 HOURS

"Echo 0-2 to Actual."

Your voice sounds rough with insomnia whenever you speak into the radio for the hundredth time.

It's been two nights since you've been in the van with Ghost, two nights since you've talked. You're avoiding him—it's just as clear to you as it is to him—and embarrassment ravages your mind as you continue to keep yourself upright, keep yourself moving. Now, the stretch of bodies was four lines deep instead of two. Now, sitting on top of the SUV with ruined boots dangling over the edge and a raggedy blanket on your shoulders; it officially burned like hell to breathe.

Above you, the stars are the brightest you've seen since Camp Viking. The night is just as quiet.

You close your eyes for a long time, dread settling in your stomach at the thought of staying here much longer; of what might happen if you're not found. You think about how long the walk from here to the next civilization might be—if, by some miracle, they don't shoot you on sight.

Bandaged, anxious hands hold the radio tight in your lap before pressing the button and bringing it to your face once more.

"Again, this is Echo 0-2 attempting to reach Actual. I've got a wounded Lieutenant with me…is anyone there?"

Static.

You try again, "Echo 0-2 to Actual. Watcher. Anyone."

Again, nothing. You sigh, batting the side of the small machine against the heel of your hand. Crickets chirp somewhere far off in the distance as you curse and eventually give up. Tired eyes fall over the pitch-black landscape before you, getting lost in the quiet. Your skin prickles against the cold air as your eyes sink shut. Shoulders slump for what feels like the first time in weeks as exhaustion, a gentle but swift current, sweeps you under.

"Nice night."

You jump and whip around, clutching the fabric of the front of your uniform.

"Fuck," you breathe out. "Just you."

He stands with what appears to be two of the American MREs you found in hand, his uniform notably cleaner now—having shed his dark, dirt-matted jacket for a dark compression shirt that stretches over thick muscles. He looks…better. Able to stand upright, at the very least. There's more color to his face but that could very well just be the cold. The fresh bandages you helped him put on the last time you talked don't show any signs of being bled through and he definitely doesn't have a hard time sneaking up on you—a good sign.

"Well…don't sound too excited."

You only huff at his remark, turning back around to look at the radio in your lap as your face burns with embarrassment. Your hands are still shaking as you take a deep breath to try and steady yourself, and you wait for him to finally mention it—acknowledge it. Your hands on his wrists. His heaving chest. Your breath on his face. Christmas Day.

He shifts and at first you think he might be leaving now that he knows where you are. Instead, he appears beside you, sliding down to dangle his legs over the edge and wordlessly hand you one of the MREs.

Your throat constricts at the very thought of food, staring down at the sad, brown package as he tears his open and sets it up to heat. You squint at the label to read the contents.

Cheese Tortellini in Tomato Sauce. Well, there are worse things.

"No luck?" He asks.

You let out a sigh of relief and mentally thank whatever God above he decided against bringing it up. Instead, you shake your head wearily as you set the MRE aside, deciding to save it for when you know you'll keep it down. Hypocritical, you know, but you've only been able to find a handful in the rubble thus far.

"No," you breathe, disheartened. "Still nothing."

A moment passes, filled only by the sound of crickets and the rustle of plastic packaging. There's movement in the distance followed by barking. Coyotes, no doubt.

You both sit in silence for a while and your thoughts slip back into dark territory. You rub your chilly arms as you stare out over the hellscape before you—wondering how many more bodies out there you have left to gather. How many families you're failing; leaving their beloved soldiers in the mud to rot because you're losing the ability to walk straight.

Then, Ghost speaks, ripping you out of the depths of your head.

"Why did the monkey fall out of the tree?"

You shoot him an incredulous look. Then, you shake your head with a scoff. You know what he's trying to do; lighten the mood, in his own strange way. For a moment it works, and it's easy to pretend you're somewhere else. A simpler time, maybe, where all you had to worry about was which hallways to take to avoid being seen sneaking around the barracks.

You try not to let his obvious attempt at lifting your spirits work. So, you only raise an eyebrow at him, "really?"

"Why did the monkey fall out of the tree?" He repeats again, nonchalant as ever, as he pushes his food around the package with his fork.

You stare at him for a while before deciding to humor him with a sigh. "Too many bananas…or something?"

"'Cause he's dead."

"Hm," you nod your head, pursing your lips into a line. "That was bad even for you."

He huffs, "too soon?"

"Far too soon."

"Noted." He shifts, placing his food to the side to take something out of his pocket. After all these years, it surprises you that even he's still off-put by the smell of death in the air. "You got a light on you?"

A stupid question—and he knows it.

"Always. Why?"

He pulls a full pack of Marlboro Reds out of his pocket, flicking the top open. The packaging is slightly crumpled but otherwise remains spotless, unlike the rest of him. He plucks one out and holds it out to you.

You glance at the cigarette, then up at his face—almost shocked he managed to keep them safe while the rest of him is so beat up. You notice bruises are beginning to show under his eyes from his broken nose and there's a stubble starting to form on his jaw, patchy with scars you never noticed until now.

You take out your lighter. An orange glow lights up his battered face as you flick it twice, let the flame catch, and then shut it again. He takes a deep inhale, sitting back on his other hand, before letting the smoke billow out past his chapped lips.

"Fuck," he sighs, already slumping with relief. "Could always count on you for a light. Good to know that hasn't changed."

"What can I say," you respond, managing what you can of a small smile. "I'm an angel."

He chuckles lowly. "You're anything but, Colonel."

He offers the cigarette to you. It's tempting, really tempting, but the pain in your lungs is far more annoying than the nagging effects of withdrawal.

"I'm good," you brush his arm away and attempt to hide the tremor in your hands. "I quit a few years ago."

"Hm," He seems surprised, or maybe he's humoring your obvious lie, you're unsure. Nevertheless, he presses the cig to his lips again. "Good on you, then."

You find yourself relaxing again slowly, anxious thoughts easing as you breathe in the smell of nicotine and look up at the stars above. It's silent save for the sounds of the desert, and you find yourself thinking about a time where you both sat just like this for hours. Getting by with nothing but the warmth of a heater, a flickering lantern, and a pack of cigarettes to keep you both company. You remember laughing until your stomach hurt at his dry humor, once upon a time.

"This place is hell," Ghost says, deadpan as ever, as he exhales another cloud of smoke.

Flashes of cold concrete, rough sand, and nauseating heat flash through your mind again. You realize, then, you prefer the warmth over the cold any day—no matter what you've gone through.

"I think I'd rather be in hell," you mutter, rubbing your arms. "At least it's warm, there."

He chuckles a little, and you wonder if he's reminiscing just as you are.

"That it would, Colonel," he says. "That it would."

It's quiet again. Years ago, the silence might've been filled by soft touches—a head against a shoulder or a hand on a back. Instead, you both just sit there. His hand is just centimeters away from your own, and you wonder if it would be easier to take it or pull away. Or just…talk. You want to speak, want to apologize or something—but the words are stuck in your throat. You want answers, you want closure, but your hand curls into a fist as you realize that fuck. You're not strong enough to break the question.

He's staring at you. You can feel when he does it. For some reason, you always have. After a moment, you hear him take a breath. He leans back on his hand as the other flicks his cigarette and comes up to touch the sore part of his head.

"You know…" He begins with a sigh. His mouth opens and shuts again, hesitant. Suddenly, he looks away. "I—"

"This is Watcher trying to reach Echo 0-2 and Bravo 0-7," a garbled, female voice interrupts him from the radio. "We hear you, Angel."

@crazy-phan-girl13

#simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #call of duty fanfiction #cod #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #ghost fanfiction #simon riley fanfic #ghost x reader #cod ghost #simon riley

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