#tgm fic
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Stolen Angel - Part 5
Demon!Jake Seresin x reader
Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.
Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. Eventual smut and happy stuff. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.
Words: 3550
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
JAKE POV
Jake sighs at the knock on his door and sits up in his bed. It’s too early. Last night was long, watching you struggle to not verbally defy his every attempt to help you. But your wing was inflamed, which would soon lead to your back becoming inflamed, and he knows you’re intelligent but is it so hard to understand that not taking care of the injury could mean infection? Being here does not make you immune to such ailments and yet you puffed and huffed and barely held your tongue at his cleaning the area and applying a bandage with ointment. And just when you’d had a conversation with him about you being good. Terribly disappointing. You better shape up if you intend to get what you want.
“What, Javy?” Jake calls at the second knock.
Javy enters Jake’s room and leans against the door after closing it behind him. “So? You taking her?” he asks.
“Possibly,” Jake says, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “There are stipulations, but she’s determined. She’ll do whatever she has to to get there.”
Javy raises a brow. “Does that explain her cozying up to you yesterday?”
A slight smirk sneaks onto Jake’s face. ‘Cozying up’ is definitely one way to describe what you were doing the day before, although your actions were nowhere close to how affectionate you’re capable of being. There is plenty of passion in that body of yours that a few soft touches don’t do justice, but for now Jake will take what he can get.
“It does,” Jake confirms with a nod. “She’s my clever little angel, but manipulative attempt or not, it’s not like I’m going to push her away.”
“Oh no, of course not,” Javy snorts. “You? Do the respectful thing?” With a shake of his head, he lets out a low whistle to which Jake rolls his eyes. The sarcasm in his friend’s tone is wildly unappreciated.
“Do you honestly expect any better of me?”
“Not these days,” Javy says, “but is it so horrible of me to want you to see the error of your decisions and change? When I offered you a life here you were a different man.”
A different man. A weaker man. A man who had nothing left to live for.
Losing everything he once cared about—that is what changed him, but who’s to say the man he is today isn’t who he was always meant to be? Maybe it burrowed inside of him long ago and was waiting for the encouragement to expose itself. And what is so wrong about that? That doesn't make him a bad man.
He was a man who was missing the drive and purpose he needed. But then—despite being under the cruelest of circumstances—he found it. And when you find purpose you have to take hold of it and claim it any way you can before it’s ripped away from you. If Javy still can’t understand that then it must be the type of thing you have to live for yourself in order to grasp how it feels.
Jake’s eyes contain a challenge against his friend’s stare as he leans forward to brace his elbows on his knees and clasp his hands. “You try having Fate fuck you over, and then we’ll see the kind of man you become,” he says.
Javy sighs and crosses his arms. “I’m not denying the poor timing of your first meeting, but you coped with that for years, and now that you’ve snapped–”
“I haven’t snapped,” Jake snaps.
“Yes, you have. She was moving up in her life, finding some happiness, trying to make some friends at a new job, and then you took her,” Javy tells him, but not to chastise. That lecture was one Jake received weeks ago and Javy knows another won’t alter what has been done. “And you can’t keep her in The Tower forever. When this catches up with you—because it will—what do you intend to do?”
“She will love me by then.”
“You’re hoping she will love you by then,” Javy counters, “And you’re hoping when questioned, she’ll lie for you.”
Jake groans and shoots to his feet, running a hand through his hair. Gesturing in the general direction of your room, he says, “If she loves me then she’ll be lying for both of us because she’ll know it’s the only way we can be together.”
“And if she doesn't?”
“I'm not entertaining ‘if she doesn't’,” Jake says harshly. “She will. I’ll get rid of that stubbornness and she’ll remember why she wanted me in the first place.”
Javy pushes up from his leaned position, nearing the blond. “She wanted you because the two of you had some kind of carnal pull to one another, but–”
“It’s more than that,” Jake stops him. “We share more than that. She just refuses to see it.”
But you will. You’ll come to your senses. He knows that it’s more than sex, but it’s because of that sex that he believes something in you felt him over the years even though you did not see him. That’s why it was so easy to come together that night. You don’t sleep with just anyone. You’re picky and careful, as you should be, but you showed no reservations when giving yourself to him. You weren’t timid when he stripped you of your clothes; you were too focused on ripping him out of his. You weren’t embarrassed by your sweet moans and pretty cries. You were comfortable around him, and you will be again.
When Jake realizes Javy hasn’t spoken, he shoves his thoughts aside and pays closer attention to the look directed his way. It’s a medley of emotions. Skepticism and concern. Cautious hope and pity and acceptance. Acceptance of what, it’s hard to determine. Impending doom, likely, since Javy’s so sure of its inevitability.
Finally, Javy blinks. His lips stretch into a thin line, then he says, “Be smart about this, Jake.”
And Jake replies, “I’m always smart.”
“You're not,” Javy has no shame in telling him. “That's the problem.”
—
READER POV
“You can’t speak to anyone from your past, you can’t be seen by anyone from your past, you have to stay in my sight at all times, and you can’t do anything that would jeopardize our ability to return here on time,” Jake says. “You break any of these rules and I drag you back before midnight.”
Raising a brow, you cross your arms over your chest. “You think I can’t manage that? I’ve complied with everything you’ve asked of me for two whole weeks.”
Everything down to accepting his cupping of your cheek one night as he nearly kissed you. He hadn’t though, and his reasons for pulling back instead of taking what he wanted as he’s so used to doing robbed you of four hours of sleep.
“I wouldn’t put it past you to go rogue,” he says. “But you can’t. There are actual consequences I can’t protect you from.”
Yes, you know. He has mentioned that often. “Consequences, Angel. There are consequences to not following the rules.” For the last couple of weeks, it has felt like hours upon hours of the same droning on, the same lesson as if your short-term memory is flawed. But then he’d thrown in “It's your first time, and there’s a chance you’ll forget everything I’ve told you the minute you touch foot down there. You’ll be tempted to break them.”
That was what finally struck a cord of concern.
Of course, it had crossed your mind to break them, even though you’d known of Jake’s fate when he had done the same, but if he had to warn you of the temptation, you wondered how tempting it would really be. Would you be spending your precious, limited time there miserable because of the invisible chains on your wrists and ankles and the gag in your mouth as you try to resist the desperation to bond with the life you left behind?
“How tempted?” you had asked.
You were taken aback by one look from him. A harshness was in the green, but you are no fool, and you could see exactly what it was concealing. A memory—pain.
“Incredibly,” he’d told you. “At least, I was. And I paid for it.”
You hadn’t responded, but you kept his words in the back of your mind, ultimately deciding to trust in your strength. It was either that or risk never seeing home again, and that wasn't, and isn’t, an option for you.
“I’m not going to do anything, Jake,” you swear.
He peers into your eyes a little too long, but you let him search for the lie that isn’t there until he’s satisfied. He blinks and then gives a sharp nod. “Good,” he says. “Then close your eyes.”
“What?���
“Close them,” he repeats. “You don’t need to know how to get where we’re going.”
Another thing to comply with. Rolling your eyes, you drop your arms to your sides. Jake pulls a blindfold out of his jeans pocket and folds it in thirds.
“Seriously?”
He looks up and steps closer. “Close, your, eyes,” he instructs again.
With a sigh you do as he says, then he wraps the fabric around your head, tying a little knot in the back.
“This is–” Stupid, you were going to say, but you’re cut off by the yelp that escapes your throat when you’re suddenly lifted into his arms, your legs and wings draped over his forearms.
“Hold on Angel,” he says.
Your hands clasp behind his neck. “Yea, no kidding.”
When he shoots up into the air, you have to tuck your head against his t-shirt to block out the rush and whirl of wind that’s quickly encompassing you. It’s all too fast, the pressure much too extreme that you feel as if you’ve gained thirty pounds in ten seconds. It’s the initial take-off of the rollercoasters at the theme park you went to as a child. The kind of feeling that locks your limbs in place.
However, it’s not long that you’re going up before you begin to fall back down at a speed that suggests the man holding you can’t fly and you’re about to greet the end of your life. The sharp change in movement twists and curls your insides. Your lungs are confused, unsure whether inhaling or exhaling would better suit you at the moment. You don’t know, so you don’t breathe.
Jake lands with a thud and sets you down on wobbly legs. One large hand wraps around your upper arm; the other slips the blindfold over your head and back into his pocket. You’re well-hidden behind a large tree as your eyes adjust to the bright neon lights that bleed from the city night.
Home. You’re home. You’re at the far end of a sidewalk by the docks that no one visits after six o’clock in the evening, but it’s still home, and you already feel yourself being sucked in by the central bustle of bodies and cars.
You take a step forward, much weaker than you intended, and Jake’s grip on you tightens.
“Not yet,” he says. “You need to shed your wings.”
That detail had escaped you, the excitement too overpowering. But you keep that excitement from showing on the outside, just as you had when he’d told you a few days ago that removing the wings was possible for you, too.
Standing taller, you prepare yourself for more instructions.
“Close your eyes again,” he begins, his voice a deep vibration in your ear. “Clear your mind. Create an image of your wings and the feathers plucking free, falling to the ground one at a time until you have no more. Picture the bone and cartilage crumbling,” he says. “And keep doing that until you feel the loss of the weight.”
It takes at least a full minute, but you’re lighter. When you look down, your feathers coat the ground, a few layered with his. Like ash and snow.
“Good,” he says, but his tone doesn’t match the praise. It’s the slightest bit wounded as if he’s grieving something he held dear.
You turn your head. Your eyes flick to his and you find them glued to your back—your back which is now bare of the one thing that shows the world you’re something other than human.
His Adam's apple bobs. “Let’s go,” he says.
“Where can we?”
“Anywhere that keeps you from running into someone that would recognize you or would’ve been concerned about your sudden absence.”
That definitely knocks out work, the old late-night cafe you used to frequent, the park on third—too small. But as far as you know, everything else is fair game. And if it’s not, you’re sure Jake won’t hesitate to inform you.
—
The temptation he’d warned you about isn’t as aggressive as you anticipated. It’s there, for sure, but you don’t find yourself itching to be bold. There’s no one you wish to see, and you skirt the perimeters of the locations you choose because of the thought that you might fuck up and give him reasons not to bring you back in the future.
He should be thrilled with your behavior. He should be riding one of his ego trips from getting you to do what he wants without additional scolding, but that’s not what’s happening. Instead, he’s worse by the hour.
Occasionally his eyes light up when you smile or chuckle at the places and things you haven’t seen for the month that has felt like a year, but between your grins and laughs, his face hasn’t once failed to fall.
He has taken to trailing behind you. If both hands are not in his pockets it is because one is running through his hair or down his face. To your statements, he hums. To your questions, he mutters answers. He hates it, you realize. All of it. Almost as much as you hate the place he has forced you to exist in ever since he took you.
His mood is only exacerbated by your desire to go to your apartment.
“Can you hold this?” you ask as you raise the window. “Won’t stay up, and maintenance ignored all of my requests.”
Jake nods, placing his hand on the base of the sill so you can ease yourself through the opening. You do the same for him as he steps off the fire escape onto the ragged carpet of your living room floor.
You take in the space, and it’s so…weird. Not a thing has shifted from the place you left it. The only additions left out of the memory you’ve kept in your mind are the layer of dust coating every surface and the slip of paper under your front door with Eviction Warning written in red lettering. And the smell. It doesn’t smell like you remember. You’re not immediately soaked in the scent of lavender essence left over from the half-burnt candle on the side table.
“Feels like I’ve been gone forever,” you say. You look over your shoulder at Jake. “Does time move differently there and I just didn’t notice?”
His hands are back in his pockets. His eyes are tired. “No, Angel,” he says.
Your sigh fades into a hum.
As you move about the room, you measure it all with your eyes.
Your couch. You always sat on the right. That cushion is more worn than the other two.
The lampshade is still crooked from when you last changed the lightbulb. Its poor alignment had caused a slight burn mark in the material from the shade leaning against the heat of the bulb, and yet, rather than straighten it out, you had twisted it on its diagonal axis so the mark faced the wall.
The TV remote is nowhere in sight, of course, because you were never the best at remembering where you put it down; a habit so frustrating you’re tempted to hunt for it now.
Your coffee table still has the scratch in the middle from when you’d dropped your mug onto the wood, shattering it to pieces. That had pissed you off. You’d just bought it from the flea market.
A mug—you’d left one out that morning. You turn your head to your kitchen where it still sits on the counter.
You walk over and grab it. There’s a coffee ring in the bottom, so you take it to the sink and wash it out, then flip it over to dry on a dishcloth. You weren’t a fan of leaving dishes scattered about, even for half a day, but you don’t know why it ever mattered. Since moving in, no one had entered this place but you, and well…him.
Suddenly, something deep and thick descends upon you. Though the space around you appears to have frozen in time from the moment you disappeared, there are things that did not freeze along with it that you can’t ignore.
Like the food in your fridge and the special chocolate cookies in your cabinet that the grocery store rarely had in stock. Rotten and stale. What a waste.
There’s a plant in your bathroom—a little one that relied on your sense of responsibility to keep it alive. It sits on a shelf in a dark purple pot you’d found on sale and now brittle leaves surely litter the tiles.
And, oh god, the cat. You used to leave a bowl of tuna out for the stray cat that climbed the stairs to paw at your window. What about him? Is he ok? Did he give up after being ignored? How long did that take? Did he feel abandoned? Does he miss you?
Bracing your hands on the counter, your head falls forward. You close your eyes and take a breath, and then you open them and—Fuck, there’s a cheerio on the floor. You forgot the damn cheerio; that tiny ring of processed wheat from breakfast that has been hanging out here in limbo wondering if it’ll be trashed or devoured by ants because you were running late that morning and told yourself you’d throw it out later but you didn’t and so there’s a fucking cheerio on your floor.
You can’t look at it, but then you don’t know where to look, or what to do. You don’t dare go into your bedroom. The sheets will be rumpled. Your underwear will be wherever it landed when it was taken off your body and tossed aside.
Shit, the laundry! You forgot to take it out of the washing machine. Mildew probably grew in the creases and folds. They'll have to go through the cycle again. You'll need detergent. You're out of detergent—used the last of it on the load that needs to be rewashed. Your favorite t-shirts are mixed in there somewhere. But it’s fine. You’ll do a quick wash, quick dry, quick fold, and put them in the drawer where they belong. How long could that take? An hour? Two? You have enough time, right? And while you're at it you really should set some tuna out and get rid of the spoiled food and fix the lampshade and find the remote and apologize to the plant and–
“We can pretend, Angel,” Jake whispers from behind you, making you jolt in your spot. You didn’t hear his approach—he keeps doing that—and he’s so close that his breath flutters wisps of your hair. “Forget everything, for a bit. Be the way we were that night.”
His disruption sidetracks you from the laundry, the cheerio, the cat, the plant, the food. For a second, you can barely process his words, but it doesn’t take long for the confusion to sort itself out.
You swallow. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to be human anymore,” you whisper, reminding him of what he has drilled into your brain again and again and again.
“You’re not,” he says. Then his arms are flanking your sides, palms pressing into the edge of the countertop. “But we look the part, don’t we?” Hot air is on your neck. You think you can hear his heart thumping. “Just tonight. Just here.”
Just here. Here, the last place you were before he made you into the creature you are. Here, the last place you can say that you were entirely you. Here, the last place you spent a happy moment. Your final happy moment. A moment that included him, back when you believed you were bringing home some guy. Just some guy. A beautiful guy. A human guy.
You liked that human guy.
You miss that human guy.
Sometimes you wish he'd show up again. Save you and promise you it was all a nightmare.
“Why?” you ask.
“Don’t ask why,” he answers. “Just tell me yes.”
And because you don’t want to go back to thinking about what you’ve lost; because you’re uneasy and overwhelmed and numb and weak now that you're realizing home really isn’t home anymore but a ghostly echo of who you were, you don’t possess the mental wherewithal to care about your decisions. All you want is a memory—a good memory—within your reach.
So you turn yourself right around, and you kiss him.
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#top gun maverick#jake seresin fic#top gun#jake hangman seresin fic#top gun hangman#jake hangman seresin x y/n#demon!jake seresin#tgm fic#tgm#jake seresin x you
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A Verbal Agreement
Summary: You hated Jake Seresin. Truly, you did. Or at least you strongly disliked him. But as it was, he did something for you that no other man could, and it kept you coming back for more.
Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 1.2K (no one is as shocked as I am that I kept it short)
Warnings: Smut. Dirty talk. Enemies with benefits. Language. The Blonde One™️.
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You hated him.
Truly, you did.
Or at least that’s what you told yourself. Maybe strong dislike would be a better way to describe it.
Jake Seresin was a smug son of a bitch. He was the bane of your existence in so many ways, and got under your skin like he was trying to burrow there and make it his home. His arrogance annoyed you, constantly walking around with a holier-than-thou attitude, like he was God’s gift to women, the Navy, and society in general. His smirk made his face punchable in a way that you were barely able to resist smacking him when he shot it in your direction.
But damn, if his ability to string together filth didn’t drive you fucking crazy.
“That’s it. Fuck. That’s my good girl.”
You clenched around him at his words, a moan leaving you because of the praise.
Dirty talk was something you considered to be an artform. It was one of your biggest turn ons, and so little men knew how to actually execute it. So often when you’d ask for it, it came out awkward, cringy or obnoxious. They fumbled over words and made everything sound so unappealing, unable to find that perfect balance of praise and degradation that you longed for, that you would barely be in the mood to finish after they spouted off what they thought was sexy.
So it would figure, of course, that you discovered Jake was the best dirty talker you had ever been with after what was supposed to be a one time mistake after a few too many drinks at the Hard Deck. He made everything sound so flawlessly erotic and natural, you were basically a puddle for it every single time.
It was no secret that Jake loved to hear himself talk, and this was the one situation where you not only didn’t mind, you wanted it.
“Taking me so fucking well. You were made to take it, weren’t you baby?”
“Yes,” you gasped, nodding rapidly, your nails dragging down his back. “Made to.”
“Yeah you were. I’m making you feel so good, aren’t I?”
Your moan turned into a scream of his name as a sharp smack came down on your ass, Jake nearly bending you in half as he fucked you. “Answer me.”
You knew from knowing him for so long that he hated being ignored, especially in bed, and especially when it was about how good he was making you feel.
“Yes! Fuck!” you shouted, your voice echoing off the walls. “So good!”
His chuckle and his smirk were both so smug, in any other situation, you would have rolled your eyes. But here, in the privacy of your apartment, it sent another wave of arousal through you, and you couldn’t help but arch into him.
“Well, I’m glad we’ve got that straight, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and as smooth as velvet. “Not like you would have been able to deny it, anyway. You’re so fucking soaked, you’re making a mess of the sheets and those pretty thighs of yours. I can only imagine how good it's going to feel when I come inside of you. Is that what you want?”
“Uh-huh,” you breathed.
"You’re so fucking tight, baby. Sucking me in like a damn vice.”
"Please," you whimpered. You were close; so close. But you needed more. “Please, please, please.”
“God I love it when you beg for me.”
He said the words almost to himself, so you didn't answer, caught in a whirlwind of lust and frustration. Jake’s hand slipped between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing fast, tight circles against it. Your vision blurred at the stimulation.
“You want my cock so bad, don’t you?”
“Jake.”
You felt the edges of your control fraying, the pleasure building to a breaking point. Your whole body shook - sweet release so near that you could almost taste it.
"Yeah, baby," he growled, his hips pounding into you even harder. His thrusts became more urgent as he neared his end, too, demanding and pointed."You want to come for me?”
You couldn’t answer, falling into the haze of what he was making you feel. Your mind was a blank canvas, lost to the sensation of his cock filling you, all that existed was the intense sensation of him thrusting against your nerve-endings, the friction between your clit and his fingers, and the rhythm of his voice, husky and perfect, pulsing through you.
Another smack to your ass, and then his hand found your chin, squeezing just tight enough where it drew you out of your head. He guided your gaze toward him. His eyes, always so mischievous, were dark and calculating. “Do you want to come for me?” he repeated, and you moaned at the authority ringing in your ears.
Your voice was barely a whisper as the words tumbled out of your mouth. “Yes. Please, Jake. Make me come.”
“Then do it. Be a good girl, and come for me. Now.”
Your body responded to his command instantly. You arched into him, your screams echoing in the room as you shattered, your nails digging into his back. He never stopped talking, his voice coaxing as much from you as he could.
“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up. Come inside this sweet little pussy. And you’re going to take all of it, baby.”
Your body felt like it was on fire. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you and he kept up his relentless rhythm, chasing his own release. You felt him go rigid inside you, and then his hips jerked forward once, twice, and then a third time as he joined you over the edge. He grunted out your name as you clung to him, your arms around his neck, your legs wrapped around his waist, feeling him pulse inside you.
For a few moments, you both laid there, panting as you tried to catch your breath. Jake settled more of his weight on top of you in a way that always made you feel more secure as you came down from the high, and you placed a soft kiss against his neck in appreciation.
“I still hate you,” you mumbled into his skin.
Jake chuckled low in his throat, and then laughed even harder when the sound caused you to clench around his softening cock. He pulled out of you slowly, sliding over your sensitive flesh. You could feel his cum slipping out of you, furthering the mess between your legs. You couldn’t help but shiver as he settled on the mattress beside you, pulling you into his sweaty chest.
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, darlin’.”
“No, I mean it.”
But even as you said it, you were cuddling closer to him, draping your leg over his as got comfortable. Post-orgasm was one of the only times he was quiet, or at least not as chatty, and you enjoyed basking in the afterglow that always followed these trysts.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you could feel the smirk that was no doubt a mix of smug and indulgent as he did. “Sure.”
“Shhhh,” you murmured, “don’t ruin it.”
He laughed lightly, but settled down, not saying anything else.
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Notes: I really have no idea what this is or where it came from, but here we are.
Thanks to @roosterforme @mak-32 and @sylviebell for reading it over and all your help! And to Mak for a stunning banner, as per ushe.
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#alli writes#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin x oc#jake seresin smut#jake seresin#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin fanfiction#jake hangman seresin x reader#hangman x reader#top gun smut#top gun hangman#tgm smut#tgm fic#tgm fanfiction#jake hangman x you#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman imagine#jake hangman fic#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin x you#jake seresin fic#jake seresin x female reader
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b.b. | Emergency contact
Summary: “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader
Warnings: Angst, mention of multiple accidents, mention of break-up, probably inexact medical and american army facts, deaths, grief, mention of trauma/PTSD, mention of food
Word Count: 4.7k
Author note: y/n = your name; y/s/n = your sister's name. Enjoy!
Masterlist
Maverick saw her first.
Hair all over her face. Cloudy eyes. Blank cheeks. Y/N looked even worse than what he had thought and considering the situation, that was perhaps to be expected. He could only imagine the call she had gotten when maybe she was on her way home after work. The kind of call that just say, “your loved one is at the hospital”. They could be dead already. They could be alive for now, but dead before she’d make it there…
Maverick did not know her personally. He knew, however, who she was and who she had been to Bradley. He had heard what had happened at that time; even if his godson had not gone into much details - he wasn’t exactly one to confide about his love life. Being aware of her story, he felt like this moment would be exactly like any of his own PTSD - reliving your worst nightmare. He had known from the moment the nurse had told him he was not family - Y/N was - that whenever she would show up, he needed to be there for her.
Getting up from the seat in which he had been waiting for some times now, he called out her name. Her eyes scanned the whole room before landing on him. She had never seen him other than in Bradley’s old photobooks, but she recognized him immediately. Though Maverick was now a couple of years older, he looked as in the pictures. It relieved her to see him there; it was partly because he did not look like someone who was going to have to bury his godson any time soon. Of course, it also startled her. The last time she had talked to Bradley, many (many) years ago, his resentment against Maverick was consuming him. She guessed they had finally worked things out.
“We were testing new materials,” Maverick explained as he sat her up in the seat next to his. Though her cheeks were slowly regaining colour, she was still trembling like the leaves of a tree caught in the wind. Perhaps it was being in this ER room again, in the exact same hospital, after all this time. Perhaps it was also the adrenaline wearing off. “Bradley’s jet had an issue and he had to extract. He landed quite roughly though. His left leg is pretty messed up.”
Y/N stayed silent, staring at him, and Maverick let her be. Of course, she had imagined him to be dead. Though she had just heard the contrary, her brain took a couple of seconds to work everything out. “So, he will be alright?”
He nodded slowly and Y/N let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She was selfishly relieved. She wouldn’t have to decide on the last clothes he would wear. She wouldn’t have to be handed his flag and colors. She wouldn’t have to watch his coffin buried six feet deep. She wouldn’t have to read over and over that stupid phrase written in the marble of this grave. She wouldn’t have to get through this again.
She had done that too much for her own lifetime already.
“Doctor, this is Miss Y/L/N”.
Maverick’s hand on her shoulder made Y/N surface out of her thoughts. She was quick to hop onto her feet and greet the surgeon that had just joined them with a nod. She braced herself for whatever news he had to give - couldn’t be that bad, Bradley was alive after all - and when it didn’t come, she presumed from his look that he was silently waiting for Maverick to go. She understood now that she was the only one listed as his emergency contact.
“He can stay, he is family.”
The surgeon nodded and started to explain in a more complex manner what Maverick had already told her before. Bradley would be immobilised for a couple of weeks, waiting for the bruise in his knee to resolve before he could undergo surgery. After that he would still need to have Physical Therapy before being cleared.
“How long until- how long ‘till he can go back to flying?” Y/N asked, nervously.
“A few months, six at most.” At her side, it was Maverick’s time to let out a shaky breath. He already knew it was going to be difficult to keep Bradley off the tarmac for this long. “He is awake now, if you want to visit.”
After they thanked him, Y/N heard Maverick turning to her - only a few seconds away to say what she assumed to be a “you go first” - and she stayed frozen on her spot, not able to make a move as she finally understood she could be seeing Bradley again – it had never crossed her mind before. There was no way she was facing a very much alive Bradley today. Not today, nor any time soon.
“You go, I’ll handle the paperwork.”
Maverick knew better than to say a thing; he only nodded, thanking her quietly. He knew she would most likely be gone when he would be back. He didn’t blame her though.
This was just a tragic story.
Bradley saw her first.
He had been at the beach near Penny’s bar probably a thousand times since he last spoke to her, all these years ago. Yet, never had he seen her there.
Watching her, sat on an enormous beach towel, watching Henry - or at least he guessed it was Henry - playing in the sand a few feet away, he could only feel guilty for what he had put her through a month ago. The call from the military hospital, the minimal information given, the drive alone, fear clenching her stomach, the parking lot where she could’ve vomited her gut out, the hospital smell. It must have been like reliving her worst nightmare. Except this time there was no tragic ending...
He had changed his emergency contact as soon as the painkiller had permitted him to think straight. To be honest, after all those years, he had forgotten she was even mentioned in his file. They had never been married and therefore had never been officially together for the Navy. He really thought no one was his emergency contact; it only felt natural having no family of his own. No parent. No wife. No kid. Now, he only had his godfather - they had reconnected a couple of years ago.
He was only relieved this had happened when Maverick was here, that someone was able to be by her side and that this time, she didn’t have to live it all alone.
Though he wanted to, Bradley did not go and apologize. He imposed so much on her already. Breaking her heart. Letting her go. Probably scaring the hell out of her. No, he definitely had done enough already.
He was mentally wishing her all the best from afar, ready to turn back to the bar, when the little boy at her side made his heart stopped. One of his tiny fingers was pointing in his direction and it took only what seemed to be a second for Y/N to turn around as well, her eyes landing on him. Against all odds, she waved shyly in his direction, which made Henry - who he had only met when he was still a couple of days old - waved at him as well.
Awkwardly, Bradley waved back and decided that at this point, he couldn’t just turn around and leave. The walk to their spot was pure torture with his messed-up knee for which he had yet to undergo surgery.
“You are the guy in the wedding picture in the hallway,” Henry said once Bradley was to their level. Bradley frowned, not sure what to answer to this. Of course, he understood he was talking about Y/S/N’s wedding, though he didn’t quite understand how this little guy would have recognized him in the hundred guests that must appear on the pictures.
“There is a picture in the hallway,” Y/N simply answered, before explaining to Henry that the polite way to greet someone was to say hello first.
Bradley only nodded, preferring to stay silent as he wasn’t really sure what to say now that he was there.
“How is your knee?”
“Well, could be better, I guess?” Bradley shrugged and Y/N nodded, a serious expression on her face. He hadn’t been in the best of mood due to his injury, and he realized too late this tone wasn’t the friendliest. To make sure she didn’t take it personally, he was quick to continue: “I wanted to say-”
“It’s okay,” She cut him off; she couldn’t be sure what he was thinking, yet she wanted to spare them both the struggle of his thanks. She hadn’t done him a favour running to his side at the first call. In fact, she hadn’t really thought anything, coming running blindly to the hospital as the nurse on the phone told her he had an accident. Maybe it was selfish of her, maybe this time she had thought she could save someone she knew.
“No, I don’t think it really is…” He sighed. “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”
“Thanks.”
Some more silence.
Bradley’s hands had become even sweatier, and it wasn’t due to the weather of the first days of spring. This whole situation was literally making him so uncomfortable. It was like walking on eggshell; he didn’t want to break her even more.
“I very am sorry.”
Bradley wasn’t sure what he was really sorry for. This wasn’t just for the scare, last month. It was also for breaking her heart, leaving her the second he had his dream job - like they couldn’t have made it work, not being around when Y/S/N and her husband died in that horrible car crash, him only sending flowers for the funerals, him not calling to make sure Y/N was surviving - how could he have, when he was the one leaving her to live his dream life and she was now the legal guardian of her six-months-old nephew at thirty something.
Y/N only stared at him, trying to see through him like she used to. He was sincere - she knew that much.
“I know.”
It had been a little more than three months when Bradley saw her again.
He had just completed yet another session of physical therapy; though it had been ten weeks since he had surgery and he didn’t need crutches to walk any longer, he still had not recovered the totally of his knee motion. Maverick was driving him twice a week to the military hospital to have PT; with his messed up left knee, Bradley couldn’t drive his manual Bronco.
While he was patiently waiting for the secretary to hung up the phone to get his next appointment scheduled, his eyes landed on a familiar face in the ER waiting room. She was here yet again, eyes puffy and red, breathe short and hair all over the place.
“Y/N?”
Hearing her name, she jumped from her seat, all senses on alert. Her eyes scanned the room urgently before stopping on Bradley. Understanding it was him calling her name, the tears she was holding back started flowing on her cheeks again. His heart started to pound furiously in his chest as the only thought that passed his mind was that something terrible had happened. Again.
“Hey, hey,” he said once he had walked - not so easily - to her. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his white T-shirt. She was grabbing him as if he was a lifebuoy. “What happened?”
As her only answer, her body broke into violent sobs. Bradley kept her close, stroking her hair gently, trying to soothe. It took what seemed to be like a couple of minutes for her to at least remember to breath and a couple more for her to be able to speak multiple words in a row. This time, Bradley held her through it all.
“Henry fell down the swing and the school called and- and-” Some more sobs rocked her body and Bradley only held her tighter, heart swelling of seeing her in this state. She must have had the scare of her life. Again.
“It’s okay,” Bradley reassured her. “Is he with a doctor now?”
She nodded, more tears falling down her cheeks. “He has a bad cut on his forehead,” sob, “needed stitches,” sob, “I couldn’t - I couldn’t” stay with him, Bradley understood even if she didn’t finish her sentence. “Shouldn’t see me like that.”
“It’s okay.”
Y/N was still grabbing his T-shirt like she would drown had she ever let go, so he held her a little more, wondering how long she had been in the ER waiting room, clearly in utter panic.
“Breathe with me,” he said. She looked up at him and gently, he dried off her tears. For one split second, he was brought back to that night, what felt like a hundred of years ago. He had promised her everything would be okay. How wrong had he been…
If anything, this was a very bad remake of their break-up.
“He is okay now, more fear than harm.” Y/N nodded, trying to gain back her composure. “You know, somebody told me one day that scars actually made you look pretty badass,” he pointed to his own scars on his chin and cheeks. “It will be a hit with girls and boys for sure.”
“I don’t remember saying that,” she finally smiled. There she is, he thought.
“Miss Y/L/N?” Y/N let go of him to turn to the doctor he understood was taking care of Henry. “We are all done. A nurse is doing his bandage right now. It will need to be redone once a day for a week and we’ll see him again in ten days to remove his stitches.”
Y/N squeezed the hand Bradley didn’t realize she was holding. She was relieved and still, she did not move when the doctor went away.
“You’ve got an automatic, right?” This made Y/N turned back to Bradley in surprise. He had that small smirk on his lips that she could recognize anywhere. The one that he offered when he had a surprise for her. Whatever it was a bath after an extremely long day or to watch Love Actually for the second night in a row when she was on her period. All she had to do back then was to follow his lead, she knew he would take care of her. The truth was, she would have followed him anywhere.
And even after all those years, she still trusted him.
“You do the paperwork, I’ll get him?” Y/N nodded slightly, muttering a quiet thank you. After yet another nod to make sure she was okay, Bradley finally let go of her hand and went to get Henry. On his way, he texted Mav to let him know he did not require a lift up from the hospital anymore. Something had come up, but he’ll explain later.
When Bradley entered the examination room, Henry was sat down on the examination table and a nurse was just finishing to put the last blaster on his forehead.
“Hey buddy!” Henry’s eyes face lifted up seeing Bradley on the doorstep, unfazed it was him rather than her aunt who went to get him. “A little birdie told me ice-cream would make it all better.”
“Bradley!”
Against all will, the ice-cream little “date” had become a recurrent event now. It started ten days later when Henry had his stitches gotten taken out - Y/N asked if she could pick him up after PT to return him the favour. Then, it was a week or so later, for the end of the school year. Then again, on regular occurrence during the summer - sometimes with their friends and family. Some other times, just the three of them.
Today was the first day of the new school year, Henry’s first day of 1st grade. It also was six months now that Bradley had been in contact again with Y/N. Still a couple of weeks until he could get cleared for flying again. A couple of weeks until he would be deployed somewhere on this planet.
And Bradley, picking up Henry from school with ice-cream for celebration, wasn’t really sure how to feel about it; he had decided to elude the matter for now.
“Hey buddy!”
Bradley watched the little guy through his reversing mirror to make sure he was putting his seatbelt on before driving off. He and Y/N had planned to meet up at the beach, once she would have finished work.
On the way there, Henry told him all about Mrs Simpson, his new teacher; how he got lucky to be paired with his best friend, Tom in the class room, and how sure he was that, by Christmas, he would be able to read so they could share reading of his bedtime stories: “You’ll read Daddy Pig’ part and I’ll read Peppa Pig’ part, okay?”
Yes, after all, Bradley definitively did not want to think of his future deployment; he would rather just stay here, in this moment in times.
After taking a swim and perfecting Henry’s swimming techniques (Bradley had taught him how to swim during the summer in between two ice-cream dates), Bradley and Henry were in the middle of sandcastles building contest when Y/N finally arrived.
Bradley sat on the beach towel, Y/N at his side, as Henry excitingly told them about his day and most importantly, all the painting materials they had in his class and that he couldn’t wait to test. The sun was starting to decline in the distance, bathing them in its last warm sunshine. A soft breeze was tenderly blowing his hair. Y/N, with Henry on her knees, was sharing a story of her sister’s first day of ‘big girl’ school and her nephew had a million questions about his mom.
Like every time the subject was brought up in his presence, Bradley tried to add as much details as he remembered of Y/S/N. It was some of his best childhood memories after his dad died: Maverick and his mom making sure his dad’s memory was still alive. He hoped it would be the same for Henry.
“You know what our family tradition was to celebrate the first day of school year?” Henry shook his head no. “Pizza night!”
Bradley laughed as the boy’s face lighted up; he was quick to be on his feet and gather his stuff to get back to the car - it was probably the first time ever Henry would agree to leave the beach without making a fuss.
Y/N helped Bradley to get up - even if he had told her multiple times before that his knee was perfectly fine, she had still treated him as if he would fall down any time. He was attending his last physical therapy sessions by now and he had already started physical training at the base. In a few weeks, he would have to have a medical examination to confirm he could fly again; his accident was well behind him at this point.
Folding the beach towel together, Y/N took this as the opportunity to thank him again for picking up Henry that day.
“My pleasure,” Bradley had assured her.
“Seriously, I owe you big time. I couldn’t see myself putting him in afterschool for his first day.”
For a split second, Bradley saw on her face an expression he knew by heart but couldn’t quite recall what it was; the next second, she was continuing to file her bag with Henry’s beach toys. It took a moment more to Bradley to understand what he had just seen: guilt. The same guilt he had observed in his mom eyes when there were things he asked, and she couldn’t simply offer him as a single mom.
“I don’t know if you are being told that enough but Y/N,” He gently grabbed her wrist to make her stop filling her bag and look back at him. “You are doing more than good with Henry.”
“I am trying my best.”
“And you are doing good,” he assured her again, squeezing her hand in his. Realizing what he had just done, he grimaced slightly but Y/N was quick to reassure him and squeezing his hand in return. “Let’s go.”
Later that afternoon, they were sat down at Pizzeria Luigi, waiting for their pizza. Bradley and Henry were having a funny face contest - Bradley copiously winning despite all the kid’s efforts. Y/N was laughing along with them, the small intimacy moment they shared before was long forgotten.
“That’s a cute family you got there,” the waitress smiled as she put their pizza on the table.
“Oh, we are not-” Bradley started, but was quick to be cut by Y/N saying:
“Thanks!”
While Y/N exchanged a few more banalities with the waitress, Bradley looked at her, utterly touched she would consider him family. He was incredibly lucky she even accepted him in his life again, after how much he had hurt her. On the restaurant terrace, surrounded by the last rays of the summer sun, she looked so happy. When she looked at him with her big sparkly eyes and the biggest smile on her lips, his own heart swelled of happiness.
And he swore he could have kissed her. Right here, right now.
“Henry, can you go wash your hands please? Dinner is almost-” Y/N passed a head through the kitchen door framing, looking what Henry was doing in the entrance corridor. “Bradley?”
“Hi,” he greeted her quietly from the doorstep, Henry by his side the doorknob still in his hand.
Bradley stayed silent, not moving, and his eyes wouldn’t quite meet Y/N’s. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come over - he was more and more these past weeks, but he was usually texting first to confirm he wasn’t imposing on them. Him showing up unannounced, at that time of the night, was odd.
“Your hands, please.” The kid passed in front of her on his way to the bathroom and Y/N waited for him to be gone before turning back to Bradley.
He was looking at a picture hooked up on the hall wall. The picture of his sister’s wedding on which her sister, her husband, Bradley and she were all smiling. It has been taken a few weeks before he was accepted into the academy. A few months before her whole world crashed down. He had walked by a multitude of times before, yet today he couldn’t take his eyes off it.
“Bradley?”
Bradley’s attention finally went back to her, a look on his face Y/N couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t the apologetic look he had worn when he broke up with her. It wasn’t the mask of fury she had seen on his face when he had explained to her one night that his US Naval Academy application had been rejected, by Mav out of all people. It wasn’t either the naturally serious face he would most often wear, nor the sly smirk she had seen on his lips so many times.
His stare was even darker than usual and heavy on her. She couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to say if he wasn’t using words. One thing she had learned with Bradley was to not rush him and let him come to her.
“We were about to eat, mind to join us?” She asked instead of the millions of questions in her head.
He only nodded, not speaking a word. Y/N took another look at him before heading back to the kitchen.
They stayed silent for a couple of minutes in the kitchen, waiting for Henry to come back from the bathroom. Knowing the kid, with the times he was taking, he was probably making a mess with the soap in there, but none of them went checking on him.
Y/N was watching the vegetables cooking and Bradley was leaned against the kitchen sink unit, deeply in his thoughts, arms crossed over the short-sleeve shirt he still wore even if it was already late October.
“I’ve been cleared.”
Y/N was surprised by the tone of his voice - if there was only one thing for which Bradley was living, it would be flying. “Is that… a bad thing?”
Bradley sighed, passing a hand on his face. He had only received the news about an hour ago and the first thing he had done was to drive to Y/N’s place. He had tried so hard not to think about this moment and what he would do - as if he had any other option than just to follow the orders. Now that the moment had come, it didn’t feel right with him.
“I-” another sigh, “these last months, I just realized what I could have had if-”
If he hadn’t felt like he had to do it on his own.
If he hadn’t been too scared of hurting her.
All those moments he shared with Y/N and Henry over the last few months had made him realized that his own fear - of hurting the people he loved and especially leaving them behind - had prevented him to live some beautiful moments. He had self-sabotaged himself, breaking off with Y/N so he could be sure she wasn’t hurt by his choices - ironically enough. He had shut her off, convincing himself somehow that he was doing the right thing for the both of them - and how wrong had he been, those last few months had proven him.
“Do you remember what you told me when you broke up with me?” Y/N asked suddenly, making Bradley look back at her. He wasn’t exactly sure what he had said besides ‘sorry’ and ‘I love you’. When he thought about that night, he could only remember her tears, her hands grabbing his shirt and not wanting to let go of him. She had fought for them, so hard, but he had already made up his mind.
He shook his head no as Y/N moved closer.
"Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can come together,” Y/N reeled out quietly as if she had re-lived this scene over and over again in her head.
Bradley laughed bitterly, “I overdid myself on that one, didn’t I.”
Y/N wasn’t laughing. She was staring at him, this determined look on her face. Like she had waited for this moment for a while now. “I do think that is true, somehow,” Y/N smiled softly.
She had thought about this a lot over the last few weeks - it wasn’t just only her now, she was also responsible for Henry. It wasn’t her intention falling back in love with him, after Bradley got back in her life. She had been pleased to find in him a friend, a friend that had rekindled a flame inside her with his sly grin and attention. She felt more alive than ever. He made her feel so… whole.
Heart pounding, Bradley watched her intensely. There were unspoken words in the air, words neither of them wanted to stay out loud, too afraid it would break the spell. He knew looking at her now that they were on the same page. He knew he could let go of his fear; whatever life had in store for them would always be worth it.
They could have stayed like this forever. But Y/N couldn’t let her chance pass.
Without warning, she kissed him. If he hadn’t been leaned against the unit, Bradley would have fallen backwards from the feeling of her lips on his, how his hands found her hips by instinct to bring her closer to him, and how he could feel the warmth radiating off her. It was like in his best memories, and just like it had always have been: two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly.
“What does that mean?” he whispered as he pressed his forehead to hers. He needed her to say it.
“That, perhaps, you could add me back as your emergency contact?”
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bradley bradshaw x fem!reader — you’re worried about what bradley will think of your new haircut.
mutual pining, pre-relationship, fluff (very self indulgent since I got my hair cut this week xoxo)
You were feeling good about your new haircut yesterday, when it was freshly cut and styled and so super soft. Today is different. You know you look different and you can help but think different is bad.
You rake a hand through your short hair. “Does my hair look bad?”
Natasha and Bob both give you twin looks of incredulity. It’s not the first time you’ve asked it tonight. They’ve brought you along to the Hard Deck for a night of drinks with their friends and you can’t stop fussing over your hair. You won’t admit to them it’s because you’re harbouring a massive crush on one of their squad members and you’re worried he’ll think you look awful.
“It looks fine,” Natasha tells you, again, not for the first time. “You look pretty. Right, Bob?”
Bob hums, tapping his fingers on the wooden tabletop. “You look great, Y/N.” He gives you a look from behind his glasses. Confusion, a bit of suspicion. “Why are you worrying so much, anyway?”
Your heart stutters. “I’m not—“
“Phoenix, Bob!” Jake Seresin appears seemingly out of nowhere, sidling up to your table with all the charm of a prince. His eyes land on you and your new hair and he grins. “And Y/N. Looking good, sugar.”
He winks at you. He’s a huge flirt and you’d definitely be into him if it weren’t for another certain aviator.
You smile at him. “Thanks, Jake.”
The others, Payback and Fanboy, file in behind him. They both notice and compliment your hair, which is a good sign. Still, you know who’s coming next and you can’t help but curl in on yourself, taking a sip of your drink so you don’t have to see him as he approaches.
“Hey, guys!” Bradley Bradshaw appears, stupid Hawaiian shirt, sunglasses, moustache, golden skin and all. He’s tucking his glasses into his shirt so he doesn’t see you at first. “Hey— woah, Y/N.”
He stops short when he sees you. You lower your drink slowly, heart in your throat. Your knee bounces underneath the table.
“Hi, Bradley,” you say.
Bradley blinks. Blinks again. “Hi. Hey. I— you cut your hair.”
He says it like he’s never heard of a haircut before. You smile unsurely.
“I did,” you say, pushing a lock behind your ear as if that will help your case. “Is it bad?”
“Bad? No, it’s— it really suits you,” he says. If you’re not mistaken, he’s stuttering. Not only that, but unless you’re imagining it, he’s blushing. He stares at you, completely unaware of anything or anyone else, golden cheeks tinged pink. “You look really pretty.”
Your turn to blush. Heat flares behind your cheeks, burning into your smile. Pretty, he called you. “Thanks, Brad.”
Bradley seems to come back into himself, a lopsided grin creeping onto his face. He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and smiles at you. “Hey, you’re welcome. Just tell me next time so I don’t have a heart attack, okay?”
What’s that supposed to mean? You open your mouth to say something, you don’t know what, but Jake’s southern drawl interrupts you.
“Bradshaw!” Both you and Bradley turn to see Jake at the pool table with the rest of the boys. “Stop flirting with Y/N and get over here so I can beat you. Again.”
Bradley rolls his eyes. “He’s lying, I won last week. I’ll be back, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”
You weren’t planning to. He flashes you a dazzling smile and then you watch him go, your heart thrumming with the sort of electricity you can’t ignore. You think you might burst. He’d called you pretty, said you’d given him a heart attack. You feel like your own heart’s about to give out, too.
Across the table, Bradley now well out of earshot, Natasha wiggles her eyebrows at you.
“Oh,” she says slyly. “Now I get why you were so worried about your hair.”
You groan and bury your burning face in your drink again. “Please shut up, Nat.”
You have a feeling she won’t.
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Something Borrowed
➪the one where you and jake run into his ex at a friends wedding.
Warnings: angst, smut, fluff, oral (f receiving), fingering, public smut, swearing, dirty talk, insecurities, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, car sex, a real bitchy ex
Word Count: 6k - last post got deleted or something :( idk where it went
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 4.3K FOLLOWERS MWAH
When Jake asked you to be his plus one to his old college friends wedding, you were ecstatic
Not only was it an excuse to show off how ridiculously hot your boyfriend of three years is, it was also the opportunity to see him in a suit all night. While he looked Godly in his flight suit and uniforms, seeing him in something different but equally as formal was always a treat.
You had bought - actually Jake insisted he buy you - a new dress that went well with his tux. While it was all black with a white button up, your dress was a champagne color that was just the right amount of contrast and went well with the ‘fine wining’ theme.
Yeah, you two were that couple.
You didn’t get the opportunity to dress up very often with how hectic both yours and Jake’s schedules are, with date nights being something simple like takeout and a movie or a stroll around the beach that often ended up with you and him jumping each other in the shower when you were supposed to be ridding yourselves of the sand.
So when he asked you to tag along, you agreed right away.
But he failed to inform you that his ex-girlfriend would also be there.
To be fair, he had no idea that she was going to be there, but he probably could’ve guessed since she was also a friend of Trent, the Groom himself, and his wife-to-be, Gemma.
You were sitting at the table assigned to you, Jake and a few others during the reception part of the wedding when Trent came up to you. He looked a bit tipsy, but that was to be expected. “Hey, man! Thanks for coming,”
Jake’s arms were secured around your middle, your back pressed right up against his front since he couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself after watching you walk out of your shared room a few hours ago in the same dress you’re wearing now. “Hey, Trent,” he greets, taking his eyes off you for the first time since you sat down at the table. “Congrats, buddy.”
“Thanks,” Trent grins, holding up his left hand and showing off the silver wedding band. “This is gonna take some getting used to.”
Jake shakes his head and teases the skin of your thigh with the tips of his fingers. This dress was probably your favorite thing you own, and the long slit on the left leg area was definitely Jake’s favorite part of it. “I’m sure you’ll manage,”
Trent grinned down at the two of you before leaning in and muttering, “Hey, have you seen Mara yet?”
Your ears perked up at that, the name being somewhat familiar to you and definitely to Jake. “Mara?” He questioned, quirking a brow and glancing at you. “Why would I have seen her?”
“‘Cause she’s here, man,” Trent answered as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.
Jake’s smile faded a bit and he tightened his arm around you. “She’s…here?” He wasn’t looking at you anymore, even though you tried meeting his eyes. “As in…here, here?”
“Uh, yeah,” Trent laughed as he reached over and tugged Gemma away from a conversation with a few other guests. “We kept in contact with her after the two of you broke up.”
Gemma lifted a brow in confusion before she nodded, “Mara? Oh, yeah, she’s around here somewhere,” then she looked at you with barely-hidden concern. “I hope this won’t be awkward for you.”
You wave her off with a small smile as you drape your arm around Jake’s shoulders. “It shouldn’t be,” you assure both the newly-weds as well as Jake, who gave you a cautious look. “I’ll be civil if we see her, I promise.”
Jake nodded then leaned in to press a kiss to your neck. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t know she’d be here.”
Jake had been yours for the last three years, Mara was a long way back in his past. Really, you had nothing to be concerned or worried about at all. “It’s okay, baby, really,” you say and kiss his cheek. “Totally fine.”
He nods, his fingers going back to tracing random shapes onto your thigh as Trent and Gemma walk away. “There’s a lot of people here, anyway,” he said. “We might not even see her at all.”
One could only hope you wanted to say but didn’t. Instead you just smile at him and run your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Maybe,”
Jake finished off his drink and set it down before gently gripping the back of your neck and bringing your mouth down to meet his. Your lips connected in a searing yet chaste kiss before he pulled away and smirked at the smudge of lipstick on your chin. He wipes it away with his thumb and leans in to ask, “Dance with me?”
You grin, “As long as I can lead,”
He scoffed as you stood up. “Please,” he murmured as he took your hand in his after standing up as well. “I always lead.”
You hold back a smirk as he guides you towards the middle of the room. “I know,” you whine, resting your other hand on his shoulder when he stops and pulls your body close to his. “It’s not fair.”
“Oh, it’s fair,” he replied as his free arm reached down to wrap around your waist. “You’re a terrible dancer, baby.”
You gasp, “Hey! I thought my dance moves were what made you ask me out,”
“They were,” he confirmed, pulling your body up against his. “I remember the first time I ever saw you dancing. It was at that awful excuse of a dive bar downtown, and some dumb remix was playing. Then there you were. You didn’t care that you couldn’t keep up with the beat, and definitely didn’t care about all the people staring at you because of it. I knew then that I wanted you and that I had to have you.”
You blush at the memory. “And look at us now,”
“Look at us now,” he repeated, glancing around the room discreetly before leaning in to whisper in your ear, “I get to go home with the prettiest and most perfect girl here.”
Your blush deepens as you lean up to brush your lips against his. “You’ve always been such a flirt, Seresin,” you tell him, pressing a proper kiss to his mouth afterwards. “But it’s the reason why I said yes when you asked me out that night at that terrible dive bar.”
“You sent a lot of sad guys away that night,” he reminisced. “Almost made me too nervous to try out my own luck with you.”
“I’m glad you did,” you mumble before kissing him again, this time more deeply. It was a pretty intense kiss to be shared in public, but Jake was all about PDA with you, and he couldn’t care less about being told to ‘get a room’ when those fuckers had no idea what it was like to be with you.
“Me too, sweetheart,” he murmured and kissed you again.
Your heart always skipped a beat when he called you sweetheart, and he knew it, too. You were convinced your reaction to it is the main reason he called you it, the cheeky fucker.
Jake’s hands slid further down your body, but before they could get past your lower back, a voice said, “Jake? Is that really you?”
It had you pulling away from him and looking to your left, where you see a tall brunette standing there with a wide grin on her face, her white teeth on full display.
Jake, too, looked over at her, and when they met eyes, she beamed, “Oh, my God, it really is you!” A laugh escaped her lips as she leaned in and pulled him in for a hug. “It’s been so long.”
“Mara,” Jake greeted as he wrapped one arm around her, his other keeping you close to him. “Yeah, I guess it’s been a while, huh?”
“Too long, in my opinion, we used to be friends,” she teased and pulled away before looking over at you. “Hi! I’m Mara.”
“Y/n,” you say as Jake wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side.
“God, you’re pretty,” Mara compliments as she looks between you and Jake. “Are you two...”
“Together,” he finished her sentence, making you smile up at him as her own faded just a bit. “Yeah.”
Mara nodded and sipped on her wine glass. “I can see why,” she observed, looking you up and down. “You two make a great pairing. So unlike him and I. We were so bad for each other.”
She ended it with a laugh, making your brows furrow as you tried to hold back a scoff. “We don’t need to get into that,” Jake tried to change the subject, his hand running up and down your back in a comforting manner. “It’s Trent’s wedding, after all.”
“Oh, of course,” Mara waved him off then looked over at you. “I love weddings. They’re so romantic.”
“I have to agree with you there,” you reply and look around at the pretty flowers and decorations. “It’s a beautiful venue.”
“You should’ve seen the one Jake and I were looking at when we were together,” she said nonchalantly and sipped more of the wine.
“Oh? Um,” you trail off and look up at your boyfriend who had his brows drawn together in confusion and irritation.
“Oh, don’t worry, we weren’t engaged or anything like that,” Mara added. “Just wanted to see what the options were if the time came, you know?”
You hesitantly nod, growing more and more uncomfortable with each passing second. “Right,”
Mara smiled then quickly said, “Oh! He’s like my ‘something borrowed’!”
Jake stuttered out a laugh of disbelief. “Your what?”
“I had him first, and now you do, so it’s like you’re borrowing him from me,” she answered, and you weren’t sure if she was joking or being completely serious.
Jake’s eyes widened as he moved you away from her. “I don’t think that’s true,” he said. “I’m very happy with Y/n here, and she’s not borrowing me from anyone. We’re each others.”
Mara nodded with wide eyes as she raised her hands in defense. “Right, of course,”
Your smile was gone now and Jake must’ve sensed that you were growing more annoyed by the minute as he moved to rest his hand on the small of your back. “Well, we better go finish off dessert,” he tried to end the conversation. “Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”
“Have at it,” she responded and you felt her eyes on you as Jake guided you back towards the table.
“She just totally interrupted our moment,” you pouted and Jake pouted back at you as he raised his free hand and tugged at your bottom lip with his thumb.
“How will we ever survive?” He teased as he pulled out your chair for you.
You sit down and glance back at the brown haired girl who was still looking in your direction. “Your ex is kind of fucking weird,” you say and he laughs as he sits next to you and drapes his arm across the back of your chair.
“It’s easy for my girlfriend to say that about my ex,” he pointed out and glanced back at her. “She wasn’t that weird when we were together, which was a long time ago.”
He was clearly trying to reassure you, and you could appreciate it to an extent. “She’s pretty,” but still, you were quite stubborn.
Jake leaned in and kissed your cheek, making you look back over at his forest green eyes. “Is she? I wasn’t paying attention as I was far too busy looking at my sexy and drop dead gorgeous date,”
You blush and feel your insecurities disappear at his words. “That’s a good response,” you mumble and the two of you share a knowing look before he grabs the fork from off the table and begins feeding you pieces of the lemon flavored cake.
An hour or so later, you were pressed against the wall of the hallway that was next to the room the wedding was being held in with Jake standing in front of you. His lips were on yours as he pressed his front against your chest and softly ground his hips against your own.
Your moans were lost to his mouth as he pressed you harder against the wall, his tongue poking out to run along your lips. “You taste so good,” he rasped, the faint remnants of lemon cake coating his taste buds. “Sweetest fucking thing, aren’t you?”
His words go right through you and you grip his biceps tightly as he begins placing kisses to your neck and shoulders. “Jake,” you moan and tilt your head back. “I want you so bad, fuck.”
“Yeah?” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice and the image of it that flashed through your mind had you whining quietly. “You want me right here? Want me to take you right here in this hallway?”
You nod frantically as you grip his hair. “I want it,”
Jake reached down and ran his hand up your exposed thigh through the slit in your dress. “Look at what you’re wearing,” he teased, pushing the fabric further up your body. “It’d be so easy for me to fuck you in this dress. No one would even know.”
You moan loudly and watch as he sinks to his knees and pulls down your white lace panties with him. “Jake,” you gasp as he places a kiss on your inner thigh. You look around the empty hallway with excitement evident in your eyes, and Jake caught onto it almost instantly.
“You’d love to get caught, huh?” He mocked as he ran the tip of his index finger along your slit before sinking it into your wet core. “Love to have someone see how fucking needy we are for each other.”
“Baby,” you whimper as he leans in and circles your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Oh, God. Jake.”
Just as you reached down to grab hold of his hair, the sound of someone calling for Jake had him pulling away from you. “Jake?” The person called again as he stood up and helped you fix your dress. “Jake..oh, there you are.”
You wanted to roll your eyes as Mara left the room and stepped into the hallway with you and Jake. “Here I am,” he said and moved to stand halfway behind you in an attempt to hide his obvious erection. “Did you need something?”
“Oh, Trent asked me if I knew where you were since he hadn’t seen you for a while now,” she explained and you crossed your arms as you stared at her. “I offered to go look for you since he’s had a few drinks now and is well past the point of being able to see clearly.”
Jake nodded and adjusted himself in his dress pants before stepping around you. “Do you know what he wants?” He asked as he took your hand in his.
“No idea,” Mara answered as she avoided looking at you and instead kept her eyes on Jake. “Better go find out.”
It sounded like she was trying to get him to leave you and go with her, but she was out of her fucking mind if she thought he was going to leave you out in the hall while he went off with his ex. “Oh, okay,” he trailed off. “Thanks.”
Then he was pulling you with him as he entered the room again, missing the brief look of annoyance that flashed across her face, but you definitely didn’t.
After a quick conversation with Trent that ended with the two men saying goodbye and setting up a date to grab a beer together, Jake pulled you with him towards the exit of the building.
Your body was on fire and was aching for him in every way, and the moment you had with him in the hall felt like a massive tease. You wanted him so badly, you were practically drooling as Jake hauled you to his truck and pulled you onto his lap in the driver’s seat.
The dark parking lot of the venue was pretty much empty by now, with the exception of a few cars here and there. You and Jake could fuck right in the abandoned lot without anyone seeing you, and you were so desperate that you were sure you couldn’t wait until you got home.
“I swear,” you mutter as you loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. “If we get interrupted again, I’ll scream, and I only want you to make me do that.”
Jake huffed out a laugh and pulled your dress up and bunched it around your waist. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbled as he gripped your hips and rocked your core against his thigh. “You’re all worked up too, huh?”
You moan and nod quickly, forgetting about your task of ridding him of his shirt and instead gripping his shoulders as you ground yourself against him. “Oh, fuck, Jake,” you whine as he helped guide your frantic movements. “I need you so bad, please. Please.”
Jake leaned in and pressed a deep kiss to your mouth that you quickly reciprocated. “You need me to make you come, baby? You want to come right on my thigh?”
You nod again and tilt your head back as he kisses along your neck, his finger pulling at the thin straps of your dress and pulling them down your shoulders. “I want it so bad, Jake,” you whimper as you drag your core against his thigh. “I want you so bad, it’s driving me crazy.”
Jake groaned when your hand reached between your bodies and brushed against his groin. “You drive me crazy, too, sweetheart,” he confessed, bucking his hips against you and making you let out a surprised moan. “Had me so fucking hard for hours.”
Your dress slipped past your shoulders and exposed your chest to him, and when he leaned down to wrap his mouth around your nipple, you whined, “I want you inside me,” you begged as you felt your high approaching with just a few grounds of your hips. You were that worked up. “I’m gonna come, Jake, fuck.”
Jake tugged on your hardened peak with his teeth before pulling away. “Come, baby,” he requested and you were more than happy to oblige, except just as you were about to, the sound of someone knocking on the driver’s side window had you squealing in surprise as you pressed your body against Jake’s. He wrapped his arms around you and shielded your body away from the eyes of whoever knocked, and when he looked over to see who it was, he met Mara’s gaze.
“Hey,” she greeted in a drunken tone. It was so dark out, he was sure she wasn’t able to see much of you in the truck, only that you were situated on top of him. “I’m sorry, my ride ditched me. Can you drive me home? Please?”
You keep your body pressed to his as you pull your dress back up and lift your head with a pissed off expression on your face. Jake met your angry gaze with guilty eyes as he looked around the dark surroundings, and you knew he wouldn’t leave her here alone.
Sometimes you really hated how much of a good guy he is.
Huffing, you push your dress back down and crawl over the center console and slump against the passenger seat. “Sure, hop in the back,” he answered and reached over to brush his knuckles against your cheek as you crossed your arms. “I’m sorry, baby, I promise, I’m all yours as soon as we get home.”
“I thought you were already all mine,” you grunted as you gently pushed his hand away and put on your seatbelt.
“You know what I mean,” he sighed just as Mara opened the backseat door and hopped up into the truck. “Where do you live?” He asked as he pulled out of the parking space and left the lot of the venue.
You look back at her as she smirks. “You know where I live,”
With an eye roll, you turn back around with another huff and turn away from both of them, facing the window and watching the dark scenery.
“You’re in the same house as before?” He asked for clarification as he looked over at you and tried to get you to meet his eyes, but he knew you were pissed off by this point.
“Yep,” she replied and you hold back a scoff at the flirty edge to her voice. “I’m sure you remember how to get there.”
You had to grip onto the seat to physically stop yourself from opening the door and jumping out of the moving truck. She was fucking with you for fun now as if she had a chance with him again now that he was with you.
The ache in your core wasn’t helping your bad mood, either, and every time Jake tried to help you relieve, she showed up. She seemed convinced that her and Jake were still close, or maybe she thought they were friends, but you knew better. Jake wasn’t one to keep a friendship with an ex-fling, yes - he considered her a fling and has told you on multiple occasions that you were pretty much his first real girlfriend.
He slept around a lot and never settled down until he met you, and then he cleaned his act up and became a better man for you. He stopped his ‘fuckboy ways’ and actually put in an effort, and now three years later he was like a completely different person. A way different person to the one Mara knew. That version of Jake was long gone, but she couldn’t seem to comprehend that.
How could she ever think he was her ‘something borrowed’? The nerve of her had your blood boiling a bit.
The fifteen minute car ride was silent, though Jake did try to make small talk with you, but you weren’t having it. You knew it wasn’t really fair to be mad at him, but he really was the only person that could tell Mara to take the hint and fuck off, and he wasn’t doing that.
Jake parked on the street beside her driveway and reached for your hand as he turned to face Mara. “There you go,” he said without emotion and when you, too, looked back at her, she was smirking as she opened the door.
“I knew you’d remember where I lived,” she purred as she got out. “Thanks, Jake, I owe you one.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he brushed her off. “It’s no problem.”
She waved at him, and Jake being the decent guy he is, waited until she was inside her house before he turned to you.
You were tense as he gently rubbed his thumb against the back of your hand, and he was almost afraid to break the silence, but he couldn’t sit in it any longer. “Baby,” he called softly, trying to get you to meet his eyes. “Can you look at me, please?”
With a huff, you glance over at him. He looked good in the dim lighting of the truck and you still felt that ache in your body for him, but you were also so upset about how things turned out. “What?”
Jake sighed and laced his fingers with yours, bringing your joined hands up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m sorry about Mara,” he started and you soften your gaze just the smallest bit. “I didn’t think she would be there, honestly, and the first time she came up to us, I should’ve shut her down. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
You lean back against the seat as you play with his long fingers. “She wants you,” you stated. “She acted as if I wasn’t even there the whole night.”
“But you were,” he said, turning to face you fully. “You were there with me, Mara wasn’t. And I don’t care if she wants me, because I don’t want her. I mean, you know the kind of guy I was when I was with her, and I’m not going back to that. I want you, always, all the time.”
You stubbornly mumble, “She wants to fuck you,”
Jake lifted a brow as he leaned in, “But I want you,” he rasped, tightening his hold on your hand. “You’ve had me hard from the second I saw you in this fucking dress.”
You playfully roll your eyes as you smooth out the champagne colored fabric. “Right,”
“It’s true,” he insisted, reaching over with his free hand and firmly gripping your chin. He turned your head so you were looking at him again, and you felt your anger begin to fade away and the lust return. “But I don’t just want to fuck you, I want to be with you for the rest of my life, baby. Mara can look all she wants, but I’m yours and that isn’t changing.”
You bite down harshly on your lip as you hold back a whine. “Jake,”
He smirks a bit at your reaction, but then his phone went off and he recognized the number as Mara’s. You assumed it was hers, as well, and let out a sound of frustration as you turned to open the door and practically ripped off your seatbelt.
Before you could go into her house and have your way with her, Jake reaches over and pulls you back and onto his lap. His lips connect with yours as he tightly grips either side of your face and keeps you close to him. “Forget about her,” he muttered against your mouth and tossed his phone aside.
“Jake-”
“She can go fuck herself, because she’s sure as hell not fucking me,” he continued and you whimper against his mouth. “The only person who gets to have me like this is you.”
You moan as you take off his seatbelt. “Jake,”
“This,” he murmured, grinding upwards and making you whine loudly. “Is all yours, baby. It’s only yours, for as long as you want me, though I’m hoping it’s forever because you’re it for me, sweetheart. There’s no one after you.”
You gasp before pressing a deep his to his mouth, and he returns it immediately as your tongue pokes out and brushes against his. “God, Jake, I need you so bad,” you say as you reach down and palm him through his dress pants. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait, I need you inside me.”
Jake grunted as he pushed your dress up around your hips and the scene mirrored the one in the parking lot. “I can’t wait, either, baby,” he admitted and you unzipped his pants and reached into his boxer briefs. “I want to fuck you so badly.”
“Please,” you begged, grabbing the back of his neck and bringing his mouth to yours. “Please, fuck me. No one can see us, it’s almost one AM, Jake. Please, I need it.”
Jake had never seen you this needy and desperate before, and the sight had him refraining from coming right then and there. “Oh, sweetheart,” he mumbled, pushing down the straps of your dress and pinching your hardened nipples between his thumb and index fingers. “I know no one can see us, but I wouldn’t give a fuck even if they could. I need you, too, baby. Right fucking here.”
“Please,” you whimper again and Jake reaches down to push your soaked panties to the side, guiding you to run your folds up and down the length of his hard dick. “Fuck me, Jake. I want it.”
“Yeah?” He breathlessly asked as his tip poked at your entrance. “You need me to fuck you, pretty girl?”
“Yes,” you answer instantly as you arch your back. He drops his hands and grips his base as he guides himself slowly into you. “Yes, fuck yes, Jake.”
He bottoms out and you both moan in relief. You were so turned on and wet, it was easy for him to slip inside of you and fill up every inch you had to give. “Fuck yeah, baby,” he groaned as you gripped his shoulders tightly and lifted yourself up. “Show me how much you need me, sweetheart. Fuck me.”
How could you possibly say no to that?
You drop yourself back down and moan loudly as he reaches even deeper than before, and you tilt your head back to allow his mouth to connect with your neck. “God, you’re big,” you slur as your chest runs up and down his with every lift of your hips. “I needed you so badly, Jake, I was going insane.”
Jake groaned and kissed his way up your neck to your lips. He kissed you deeply, still able to taste that lemon cake from dessert. “I know, baby, I’m sorry we had to wait so long,” he apologized and you clenched tightly around him. “Fuck, I wanted to make you come so badly in that damn hallway.”
You moan and grind down onto him harder. “Me too,”
Jake grabbed hold of your hips as he fucked up into you roughly. “I’m gonna make up for it now,” he muttered as he took control of your body and helped guide you up and down on him. “I’m gonna make you come.”
“Please,” you cry out as you go limp on top of him and give him full control to do whatever he wants with you. You were so worked up, you were close to coming already, and he knew this as he reached down to rub slow circles onto your throbbing clit. “Oh, my God, fuck.”
You clenched helplessly around him as your whole body tensed up. “Come for me, baby,” he demanded in a soft tone. “All over me.”
A loud cry left your lips as you come hard and fuck yourself onto him when he stills and lets you ride out your high. Uneven breaths escape you as you writhe on top of him, already feeling so overly-sensitive but still needing more.
“Slow down, baby,” he said gently and grabbed your hips to help you slowly roll your body against his. “You’re so sensitive when you come, don’t wear yourself out.”
“Then fuck me, Jake,” you request and he stops you completely. He kissed you multiple times before lifting your body up and letting you rest against his thigh. Reaching down, he runs the tips of his fingers along your slit before sinking them into you, making you moan softly as he slowly works you back up again.
“Get in the back, sweetheart,” he said and you reach down to pull your dress off your body, leaving you almost entirely bare in front of him. His dark eyes trail all over your body as you crawl into the back and lay down on the seat, kicking off your heels and panties as you do so. Jake cursed under his breath as he cleaned you from his fingers before shrugging off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt.
He crawls back there with you and licks a stripe up your sopping core, making you shudder a bit, before he hovers over you and slides back into you. “Fuck,” you whimper as you wrap your arms around him and press your lips to his chest.
“I know it’s not very romantic,” he started as he slowly fucked into you. “But hopefully I’ll be able to make up for it when we get back home.”
You shake your head as you wrap your legs around his waist. “You’re perfect, Jake,” you tell him and bury your face against the side of his neck. “So perfect for me, I love you so fucking much. I’m sorry I was such a bitch to you-”
“Hey,” he cut you off and gave one sharp thrust, effectively shutting you up. “Don’t ever apologize to me when you’ve done nothing wrong. There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart, you hear me?”
You nodded and closed your eyes as he quickened his pace a bit.
“I love you, baby, so damn much,” he said and kissed the base of your throat before sucking a mark there. “I’m sorry I was such a dick earlier by not sending her away the second I saw her.”
“It’s okay,” you replied breathlessly. “We’re okay, Jake.”
“Yeah,” he agreed as he began fucking you roughly. “We’re okay, baby, we’re us. Just us.”
You whimper and wrap your arms tightly around his body. “Just us,”
Jake braced one hand on the doorframe and held you close to him with the other as his hips hit yours at a brutal pace. “Fuck yeah, sweet girl, you’re taking me so well,”
You nod and bite down gently on the skin of his shoulder. “You’re so deep,”
“Yeah?” He asked as he pulled nearly all the way out before burying himself deep within your wet walls. “You feel so good, baby, so fucking tight.”
His filthy words had you seeing stars for a few seconds and you couldn’t stop yourself from clenching around him. “I can’t,” you gasp. “I’m gonna come again, Jake, it’s too much.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he cooed, kissing your jaw and chin as his hips rutted into yours. “I want you to come for me again. You deserve it.”
“I want you to come, too, Jake,” you mumble, reaching up and tugging on his hair. “Please, come with me. I want it so bad.”
Jake grunted as you pressed your heel against his lower back and drove him deeper into you. “You want it?” He asked, already knowing your answer as he held back his own release in order to get you there first.
“I want it,” you reply immediately and pull him impossibly closer to you.
“Come for me first, baby,” he rasped. “Then I’ll come for you.”
You moan and lift your back off the seat as you clamp down around him and come for the second time.
“There you go, sweet girl,” he praised kissing you through your high as he felt his own take over his body. “Fuck, I’m coming.”
You keep your heel pressed against him and hold him close as he paints your hidden walls white and thrusts his release deeper into you. You moan with each uneven jerk of his hips and when he falls against your chest, you run your hands through his sweaty hair and make it messy. “I love you,”
“I love you more,” he murmured and pressed a few kisses to your damp shoulder. “And I’m sorry again.” He pulls out of you and gently fucks his fingers into you to keep his seed deep within your core before he tugs your panties up your legs and wraps his button up around your body.
“It’s alright, baby,” you kiss him one last time before crawling onto the passenger seat. “Just know that I probably won’t be able to resist punching Mara square in the face if I ever see her again.”
Jake laughed as he picked up his phone and got back into the driver’s seat. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that,” he said and you gave him a confused look as he showed you his phone screen. Somehow, when he threw his phone aside, he accidentally accepted her call and she had listened to around three minutes of the thirty minute fucking session you and Jake just got finished doing.
“Oh, my God,” you laugh and cover your face as he smirks and calls her back.
“She blocked me,” he informed you after a few seconds and dropped his phone into the cup holder before running his hand through his messy hair and starting the truck.
You laugh again. “Yeah, well,” you shrugged and wrapped his shirt tighter around your body as you leaned back. “At least she got the message now and took the hint.”
#jake seresin#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin fic#jake seresin smut#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#hangman top gun#hangman x reader#hangman fanfiction#top gun hangman#top gun au#top gun maverick#tgm#tgm fic#glen powell#jake hangman x reader#jake seresin x you
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Good Vibrations | Jake Seresin x Reader |
SUMMARY: Making a bet with Jake Seresin never involved low stakes. This time, after losing to your boyfriend, his "winnings" included you testing out a new sex toy he picked up — not only in public, but in a last minute decision of in the presence of both strangers and your friends. Surely you could be discreet. This would be a cakewalk... Right?
WORD COUNT: ~3.08K
WARNINGS: THIS BLOG IS 18+ SO JUST ASSUME ANYTHING GOES. MINORS DNI. Swearing, alcohol mention (no one is drunk but worth mentioning), smut, softdom Jake, voyeurism, exhibitionism, edging, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, dumbification (affectionate), Jake being a smug bastard.
A/N: I wrote this for this request I received a while back! I hope you enjoy!
“A bet is a bet, darlin’. I don’t make the rules.” Jake smirked. You tried your best to convince him to save his little game for another time, but he wasn’t budging. At all.
“Yeah, a bet we made before agreeing to go to the bowling alley with Bob and Phoenix. And actually, yes, you did make the rules.” You whined as you gripped his hand tighter, forcing a smile on your face as the two of you approached the small table that the pilot and WSO were waiting at.
After a few rounds passed, Bob and Natasha were absolutely destroying you in duos.
“I thought you were good at this game, Bagman?” Natasha quipped tauntingly after Bob rolled yet another perfect strike. He now had a turkey when neither of you had gotten anything better than a spare during the entire game. You were getting absolutely creamed; it was embarrassing. Yet somehow, contrary to any kind of normalcy, neither of you seemed to care. “You talk a lot of game for someone who’s losing by an embarrassing amount already.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky my mind is elsewhere tonight or else you’d both be going home cryin’ to mama.” Jake chuckled before he dug a couple of shiny quarters from his pocket and bounced over to the jukebox. How he managed to be so cocky while actively losing was beyond you – any other time, he would be sore about it for two weeks minimum. Natasha raised a brow at you, amused, and you returned a playful eyeroll.
“I’ve never known you to focus on anything other than winning, so I’m calling bullshit.” Bob scoffed before offering a lopsided smile to meet your sheepish gaze.
You watched Jake curiously as he seemed to be intently searching for a specific song, and not long after, The Beach Boys’s Good Vibrations started to bump throughout the half-empty, neon-lit bowling alley. Your face fell when he swaggered back to the table with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You thought that maybe he had forgotten about your arrangement until you felt the cool metal of the tiny remote being lightly dragged up your bare thigh under the table when he sat back down. You shuddered before sending him a warning glare. Natasha expertly sent her ball down the lane, and as soon as it collided with the pins, a powerful vibration from inside your underwear sent electricity through your core. You lurched forward and a guttural groan flew from your mouth before you could stop it. Bob whipped his head around to face you, concern evident on his face.
I’m pickin’ up good vibrations
She’s giving me excitations
“Are you alright?” Bob asked, reaching a comforting hand toward you.
Jake quickly wrapped an arm around you and pulled you, along with your stool, closer to his side. His touch was the only one you would know when you were turned on, and he was not about to let another man put his hands on you while you were already teetering on the edge of euphoria. You began to scramble for a response as Jake upped the strength of the vibrations by one level.
“Y-Yeah, I’m okay. Just – just bummed for you that it wasn’t a strike. Phoenix, your form was per… perfect.” You stammered; your knuckles turned white as you tightened your grip on the edge of your chair. Jake shoved a fistful of nachos in his mouth to hide his smirk, which earned a suspicious look from Bob.
“Ugh, I know. I got the next one, though.” Natasha chirped at your compliment with a confident wink before turning on her heel to retrieve the ball to roll for a spare.
Jake brought his hand to rest on your bare thigh and began rubbing circles on your skin with his calloused thumb. The combination of the vibrations and just this simple contact from his hand was giving you goosebumps. You adjusted your position on the uncomfortably hard plastic of your chair.
“You okay, sugar?” Jake asked innocently. You shot daggers at him. The corner of his lips quirked upward.
When I look in her eyes
She goes with me to a blossom world
“Just peachy.” You replied curtly, exhaling slowly through your nose.
His pinky slowly trailed further up your thigh until it was brushing along the edge of your skirt, his middle and ring fingers teasingly pushing up and down between the plush of your thighs. You pressed your legs tighter together to halt his cruel teasing as he smugly watched your eyebrows furrow. You tried to keep your breathing even as you watched Bob and Natasha, who were thankfully too lost in their climb to victory to notice what a menace Jake was being.
I don’t know where but she sends me there
(Oh, my-my, what a sensation)
“You’re up,” Bob nodded to Jake. Jake was quick to pull away from you as he popped up and strode over to take position. He kept one hand in his pocket as he eyed the lane and readjusted his aim a couple of times. “One-handed in a way that you couldn’t care less. What, d’you give up already?” Bob teased. Despite him being on the opposite team, you loved when Bob would start to smack-talk after a few beers. He really came out of his shell whenever it was time for a little friendly competition.
“This is how a real pro operates, kiddo. Take notes.” Jake responded without breaking his focused gaze on the pins.
“Yeah, let’s see how far that gets you.”
And with that, Jake took his shot and rolled a perfect strike; and in doing so, he upped the vibration strength in his pocket the moment the ball collided with the pins yet again. A higher pitched moan left you and you did your absolute best to disguise it as a celebratory cheer. You were relieved when it seemed to pay off. Bob’s jaw was slack as he marveled at Jake’s shot.
“That’s how the adults play, Baby On Board,” Jake chided as he made his way back to his seat next to you. Bob rolled his shoulders back with a grimace as he muttered to himself.
Gotta keep those lovin' good vibrations a-happenin' with her
“You’re up, chickadee.” He grinned at you, subtly adjusting his jeans to conceal his growing erection as he watched your face. Your eyelids were struggling to remain open as the sensations took hold over you. The mischievous glint in his eye was as prominent as it ever could be. You narrowed your eyes at him as you stood, a little unsteady on your feet as the vibrations against your increasingly dripping core remained constant. You pick up your ball from the rack and move to take position. Your senses were overwhelmed as the consequence of Jake’s winnings kept at your clit; everything was suddenly too loud, the entire joint smelled overwhelmingly like beer and fried food, and now you were squinting against the pink and blue of the neon that was reflecting off the recently waxed wood. You took a deep breath and aimed your ball before sending it flying down the lane. You thought that now that you were front and center, with everyone’s eyes on you, you would be safe from Jake’s antics. You thought wrong.
(Ahhhhh!)
Your ball sped toward the pins and collided, successfully knocking them all down and earning yourself a perfect strike – your first of the night.
Good, good, good, good vibrations
The biggest grin found its place on your face and just as you jumped up to celebrate, you fell to your knees with a high pitched whine as Jake upped the intensity by several levels. Bob flew out of his chair to kneel beside you, placing his hand on your arm as you trembled, your head bowed to the floor. Jake’s skin burned as he watched Bob’s hand on your skin, but he let it slide. This was his doing, after all. Jake stood from his chair and was behind you immediately as he turned the toy off with the remote in his pocket. You bit your lip to conceal your pathetic whimper at the sudden loss of stimulation.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Natasha questioned in a rush as she dropped her knees to the floor beside you.
Good, good, good, good vibrations
“I’m okay,” you reassured them, exhaling slowly and keeping your voice steady. You couldn’t do this much longer. The desperation for relief was overwhelming you. “It’s just really hot in here. I think I just need to splash some water on my face.” Natasha glanced down at her jacket – she was freezing, even with the alcohol in her system – but she nodded nonetheless.
“Do you want me to go with you?” She offered, standing slowly and steadying you against her elbow as she pulled you up with her. She searched your face with genuine concern. It kind of made you want to elbow Jake in the ribs for making your friends think there was something seriously wrong with your health at the moment. You flicked your eyes back over your shoulder to meet Jake’s — you could tell he was struggling to keep a straight face at this point. His lips quirked as he watched you, bringing a firm hand to rest at the small of your back and teasingly rubbing underneath your shirt with his thumb. Your breath hitched. You shook your head rapidly at Natasha’s offer and waved her off, offering an appreciative smile. Jake’s features were only half-apologetic as he pulled you against him and leaned down to give a chaste kiss to your forehead. You playfully sighed in annoyance at him. You agreed to his terms when you made the bet. You just didn’t think he would be so remorseless in his use of the new toy in public.
Bob shifted anxiously on his feet as he observed you, subtly bopping his head to You Dropped A Bomb On Me by The Gap Band that was now playing on the jukebox. You bopped your head in time with him with a small smile and watched him visibly relax.
“It’s just hot in here. I’ll be much better when I come back.” You reassured them again as the trio watched cautiously. Jake’s eyebrow quirked as you passed him. He knew what your plan entailed and he wasn’t too thrilled about it.
You hurried to the bathroom, quickly locking yourself into one of the stalls and leaned back against the cool metal of the door. You bit your lip to keep yourself quiet as you dipped your hand into your underwear, desperate for relief and suppressing a moan when your fingers ghosted over your sensitive clit. You didn’t even bother to check if the bathroom was empty – frankly, you were too on edge to care. After a few minutes, Jake excused himself to go check on you. He looked both ways before practically flinging himself into the women’s restroom and closing the door behind him hastily.
“What’s got you so worked up, baby?” Jake drawled after making sure it was just the two of you in the room. You whimpered at him quietly. He took a moment — finally alone — to adjust his pants more openly and palm over his hardening cock. He took notice of your feet under the stall door and imagined the way you were positioned. He pictured your brows knit, bottom lip between your teeth as you ran your fingers through your folds and desperately grinding down onto your hand for relief. He was painfully hard just at the thought of it. Jake locked the bathroom door behind him — whoever might have needed to come in here could wait.
At the click of the lock, you were out of the stall and on him in a flash, desperately pulling him against you and attaching your lips to his. He grinned into the kiss as your lips moved feverishly together. He secured one hand against the back of your neck and his other on your hip as he walked you backward until your ass was hitting the counter. You sighed into his mouth, running your hands down the front of his torso and pushing your hands under his shirt. His skin was hot to the touch and you wanted nothing more than for it to be against yours. You gently raked your nails down his abdomen and pulled his hips closer to yours by his belt loops. He hummed. “You’re breaking the rules.”
“Don’t care,” You took his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged gently, whimpering when he lifted you enough to position you on the very edge of the sink. “Need you.”
“Need me, huh?” Jake teased, leaving your swollen, kiss-bitten lips and attaching his own to that sweet spot under your ear. He pushed your legs further apart with his knee before slotting his thigh between yours. “You wanna be a good girl and hike up your skirt for me?”
You whined pathetically at his words as you pulled at your skirt and ground your heat onto his thick, denim-clad thigh. He continued to leave a trail of hot, opened-mouth kisses down your neck and chest before yanking your top down to attach his lips to your already-peaked nipple. He took his hand from the back of your neck to knead at your other breast, pinching your nipple between his index and middle fingers. You sucked in a sharp breath and threw your head back with a moan, grinding down onto him a bit harder. He grinned against your skin as he quickly flicked over your nipple with his tongue before switching to the other.
“I got you, pretty girl,” Jake cooed, snaking the hand that was firmly secured against your hip to the apex of your thighs. He moaned lowly at the feeling of your wetness-soaked underwear, slowly rubbing small circles over the fabric. It wasn’t enough. You whimpered, grinding into his hand and digging your nails into his biceps. “So wet for me. You been thinking about me touching you all night with that vibrator against your cunt?” You could do nothing but nod weakly, your head resting back against the bathroom mirror. “Use your words, darlin’.”
“Yes sir,” You mewled.
“Good girl,” Jake grunted, flicking your nipple with his tongue once more before releasing it with a pop! He dropped to his knees and pulled your panties to the side, wasting no time in spreading you with his fingers and licking a thick stripe upward before plunging his tongue into your weeping hole. “Weren’t exactly trying to hide how good I was making you feel, were you, baby?”
“Oh, my fucking –” You jolted. Jake attached his lips to your clit, alternating between licking and sucking as he brought his middle finger to push into you slowly, gliding in and out of you with ease. Your fingers wound into his blond tresses and you eagerly tugged at his scalp, earning a pleased, guttural groan from somewhere deep in Jake’s sternum. You were already so close after being practically edged all night long.
He pulled your thighs over his shoulders before pushing his ring finger into you now, curling his digits upward against that spongy spot in your walls and pumping them into you at a steady pace. You let out a long, high pitched whine as he hit the perfect spot over and over and over and over. He moaned and relished in the feeling of your heat clenching snugly around his digits. Your brain turned into mush – you heard his voice but couldn’t make out what he was saying. “I – I’m – Jake, I can’t –”
“You sound so pretty when you moan for me, baby,” He smirked against your skin as he watched your fucked-out expression. Your eyes screwed shut with your eyebrows sloped and your mouth agape – it always drove him crazy. “What, can’t take any more? Forgot how to use your words now?” You could do nothing but cry out and nod rapidly against the mirror. “My poor baby. Taking my mouth and fingers like such a good girl.” He hummed against your clit and you choked out a sob, tears streaking your cheeks now and desperately grasping his hair. You were so, so close, teetering on the edge and waiting for him to push you over like he always does… Then, suddenly, he withdrew from you completely. Your eyes flew open, wild, and searched his smug face while he lazily kissed your inner thighs.
“What are you –”
“You broke the rules.” He stated simply, pulling your skirt back down over your thighs and smoothing it over with his calloused fingertips.
“What?” You exhaled incredulously, blinking at him, chest heaving. He rose to his feet and kissed your collarbones as he readjusted your shirt over your breasts before wiping his chin.
“You broke the rules,” Jake repeated. His eyes were dark with want yet held an incredibly amused glint. “No touching yourself.” Your jaw fell slack as you searched his features for the hint of a joke – there was none.
“Jake –” You began to protest – to plead.
“Come on, baby,” He grinned, pulling you down from the counter and spinning your hips to stand in front of him to face the mirror. You could still do nothing but blink dumbly at his reflection. He brought his hot lips down to where neck meets shoulder as he ground his hard cock against your ass. You whimpered, reaching for him behind you. He stepped out of reach and grabbed your hand instead, interlocking your fingers. He adjusted himself by tucking his solid length into the waistband of his jeans. “We have a game to get back to.”
You couldn’t believe this was happening.
“You’re finished when we get back to your place.” You hissed at Jake lowly through gritted teeth as he unlocked the door and pulled you back into the bowling alley with him. He ignored the glances you two were getting from a few lingering patrons as he strode back toward Bob and Natasha. The music was loud, but maybe not loud enough to conceal what was happening behind the locked door from anyone within ten feet of it.
“Not if I finish you first,” He challenged with a grin. He fished the remote from his pocket and dangled it in front of your face. “If you can even make it that long.”
#good vibrations#riley’s writing#top gun maverick#jake seresin#top gun maverick smut#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun maverick fic#tgm smut#tgm fanfiction#tgm fic#jake seresin smut#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin fic#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman fic#jake hangman x reader#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#glen powell#jake seresin x y/n#hangman x reader#hangman x you#hangman x y/n#jake hangman x you#jake hangman imagine#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin oneshot#top gun x reader#hangman fanfiction#hangman smut
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Hungry For Heaven
Summary: Beau knows he shouldn’t have feelings for his young, pretty secretary. But he can’t help it.
Pairing: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson/F!Reader (No Y/N)
Word Count: 4.6k
ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED
A/N: This is my second entry for the 80’s Rocktober Challenge hosted by @roosterforme - I picked Dio’s song “Hungry For Heaven.” I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, Cain is a creep for plot reasons, my gratuitous use of italics and song lyrics, a coyote ugly reference, female receiving oral sex, power imbalance
His girl. Cyclone’s girl. Simpson’s girl. The Admiral’s girl. That’s how most people referred to you when speaking with Beau. And he had never admitted how much he liked it, instead telling people to at least acknowledge your rank. But in the dark of his rooms, in the recesses of his mind, Beau liked it. He liked that you were his.
Sort of.
Beau knew it was cliche. Falling for his young, pretty secretary was probably the most cliche thing that he could have ever done. But it hadn’t been a choice, really. You had appeared one day, three years ago, like a whirlwind and Beau had been left in your wake. You kept a tight ship, just as he did. You had been a perfect match for him, keeping him organized and on time for all his meetings and classes. You had made the mountains of paperwork he was always saddled with much easier to swallow and he had thought he was dreaming when you’d first handed over a thick stack of papers and told him he just needed to sign at the bottom of the last page. You’d basically done a week of reports for him and had left Beau with a pen in his hand and a tight stomach as you sauntered back out of his office. But that was what you did, he learned. You made his life easier. Gave him time to breathe. You were his girl.
It was more than a little embarrassing to realize his…affection for you was noticed by anyone. Thankfully, the only person he knew for a fact suspected anything was Admiral Bates, who had quietly told him that it was about time he was happy. Embarrassing. It was a kindness, true, but Beau would have preferred if he hadn’t said anything at all. These feelings were inappropriate and completely against Naval regulation and protocol and he couldn’t stop.
“You’re not staying much later, are you?”
Beau looked up from his computer, reading yet another request from Maverick about his insane dog fight simulations he wanted the newest Top Gun class to try, to see you in the doorway of his office. The usual, soft smile was on your face—the smile he liked to think you reserved just for him. His mouth curled up at the edges too; he couldn’t help it. “Just trying to rein in Maverick.”
You scoffed and shook your head but your smile remained. “You’re going to be here all night, then. Again.”
Beau had to hide his laugh behind his hand. You knew him too well. “I won’t.”
You hummed, obviously not believing him. “I’ll order you dinner. Do you want Chinese or Italian? You had barbecue two nights ago.”
His heart twisted, like it usually did whenever you so easily showed how well you knew him. “Italian, if you could, Lieutenant. With-”
“With extra breadsticks, I know. I’ll make sure they don’t forget again.”
You were gone from the doorway before he could thank you but you returned not thirty minutes later with his promised dinner and another smile. A cursory glance let him know that the extra breadsticks were indeed included this time and you set a silverware roll from the mess hall beside the bag.
“You’re too good to me, Lieutenant.” Beau winced as soon as the words left his mouth but you simply smiled. “And I thought you were on your way out for the weekend?”
Your smile widened. “I am. But I wasn’t about to leave you hungry.”
Beau’s entire chest ached and he tried to smile again but he was sure it looked more like a grimace. “Big plans?”
“My friend’s bachelorette party. We are going bar hopping after getting pole dance lessons.” You paused before a grimace crumpled your features. “You didn’t need to know that. I apologize. That was unprofessional.”
Beau felt his throat bob, mouth suddenly dry. Seeing you in your khakis or in any of the other Naval uniforms had been all Beau had been given, aside from when you needed to grab something from your office over the weekend a few months ago and he got to see you in a sinful pair of shorts and low cut top. But imagining you in one of those tight, tiny dresses he knew women your age wore and learning how to dance like that had his stomach in knots.
He was being unprofessional. He was supposed to be the one who approved or rejected paperwork for relationships like this. He wasn’t supposed to be wanting one. And he wasn’t even sure if you saw him as anything other than the old man who needed help keeping his meetings and paperwork in a row.
Sure, you joked with him, nursed a glass of expensive bourbon with him after the Uranium Mission, and Beau liked to think he caught you appreciating the view when he partook in the swim call during your last shared deployment and you handed him a towel to dry off…but that did not mean anything in the grand scheme of things.
He knew that.
But he couldn’t get you out of his head.
“I hope you have a good time. You’ve certainly earned it. I know I run you ragged here.”
The hard line of your shoulders lessened and your smile returned as you shook your head. Your hand settled over his and you gently squeezed his fingers, touch not retreating immediately and Beau tried not to revel in it too much. “I love working for you. You have to know that by now.” Beau watched your mouth open again before you bit your lip.
Beau could imagine a million different things you could have said after that. But you didn’t say any of them. You didn’t say anything at all aside from a soft, “anyway, have a good night, Admiral. Please don’t stay too late.”
And then you were gone, leaving Beau alone with the scent of your floral perfume, the echo of your warm hand on his, and an ache in his chest.
It was fine.
This was fine.
He ate his dinner as he tried to find the least insane simulation Maverick had requested and hoped that it would end well next week. Honestly, having the Captain as the permanent Top Gun instructor was bad for his heart.
“Are you coming?”
Beau looked up from his paperwork to see Admiral Cain in his doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Oh, that was right. Cain had been invited to see the current Top Gun class in action. The higher ups thought it would be a way to “soften” Cain’s animosity toward manned aircrafts. It was ridiculous because Beau outranked Cain and he still walked around like his shit didn’t stink.
Mostly what it did was raise Beau’s blood pressure and had you running circles around base trying to keep Cain out of Beau’s office. It was a valiant effort, Beau knew, but Cain hardly ever followed any recommendation from someone who he deemed ‘beneath him.’
He glanced down at the calendar on his desk and saw your neat handwriting over today’s date. Drinks with Cain? :(
Dammit.
“Yeah, let me just clean up and-”
“I’ll give you fifteen minutes.” And then he was gone, too.
Biting back every swear he’d ever learned, Beau stood and cleared his desk of his dinner’s trash and filed everything away to deal with on Monday. He pulled on a different shirt and slacks he kept in his office’s closet for times like this and tried not to seem too unenthusiastic when he met Cain out in the parking lot. The effort was completely negated when the other man started bragging about the bar he wanted to try, touting that it was apparently popular with younger women who preferred older men.
And while Beau did think of you for a moment, his stomach still rolled with the thought that Cain was on the prowl for someone younger when Beau knew that he had a wife and kids waiting at home for him. But still, he went, knowing the higher ups would frown at him not wanting to “play nice.”
(Beau pocketed the thought that he could have Cain dishonorably discharged if he actually did something.)
The drive to the bar was thankfully short and Beau had repeatedly told himself that it would be fine to leave after one overpriced drink before parking. He could hear the classic rock pouring from the stout brick building and he could still hear the waves crashing against the shore as he stepped up toward the front door. The bouncer at the front waved him in and Beau saw Cain already striding up toward the bar, turning his head to watch as a woman, carrying a tray of shots to a different table, walked by.
Cain settled at the bar and Beau begrudgingly stood near him and waited for one of the three bartenders to take their order. When they were noticed, Cain was more than a little shameless with staring down the bartender’s shirt when she came to their corner of the bar top so Beau made a mental note to give her an extra tip with his drink as a silent apology.
“What can I get started for you?” She asked, turning to Beau with a roll of her eyes. She’d apparently already had a long night.
“Cognac, please.”
The bartender quirked an eyebrow but almost smiled. “You seem like a top shelf kind of guy. Am I right?”
Beau nodded and watched her grab a bottle of cognac he also had in his personal bar back home (where he’d rather be, but that was beside the point) and poured a few fingers of it into a glass before setting it atop a monogrammed napkin and pushing it in front of him. He handed over his card without a fuss and she seemed grateful when he didn’t ask to open a tab.
Beau vacated his spot at the bar after leaving his promised tip and it was quickly taken by a woman who had to be about your age with a sash across her chest that read “Made of DisHonor” in bold, pink lettering. It was funny—there must be a bachelorette party here somewhere.
Again, he thought of you—you had said your friend’s bachelorette party was tonight.
As Beau settled into an overstuffed booth near one of the stained glass windows, he saw Cain still at the bar, now turned around to lean against it as he sipped on his martini. His gaze was bouncing from one woman to the next while completely ignoring the other men who would have probably preferred his spot at the bar to order. But it hardly mattered, really. Beau would have been content with finishing his drink by himself and not interacting with Cain at all. But Cain did eventually did spot him and Beau raised his glass in half hearted welcome but hoped that it would not be taken.
Cain didn’t pick up on the abject disinterest on Beau’s face and started to make his way over. Dammit. However, he made it only a half dozen steps before getting pulled to a stop by a woman in a tight dress and a bright smile.
Damn. All right. Apparently the reputation this bar had was not completely unfounded.
Beau was quick to drag his gaze away from the uncomfortable scene and spotted the girl with the sash walking away from the bar with a tray of what looked like Jell-O shots in her hands. Beau watched her go with a smile, remembering his days back in college when his tongue was blue from drinks like those. She quickly passed out the small plastic cups and the grip Beau had on his cognac nearly slipped when he recognized one of the women in her group.
You.
God. You had always been beautiful but right now you were truly something else. Sinful and ethereal all at once. Stunning. Short dress. High heels. Burgundy lips. You were dressed for the festivities. Your sash read “Miss Behaving.”
Of course it did.
The bride, a cute woman in a tiny white dress with a giant white bow on the back of her head, herded everyone a little bit out of the throughway so a small group of men could get to the bar without needing to walk around. And you ended up closer to him. He could hear your laugh over the music as your friend pushed one of the Jell-O shots into your hand.
“I’m driving tonight! I can only have one drink.”
The woman with the Made of Dishonor sash pouted but still made sure your fingers were curled around the tiny plastic cup. “You said that at the last two bars, too. That’s why I got you a non-alcoholic Jell-O shot. Congrats. That is pure sugar and water, babe.”
You laughed and Beau found himself smiling at the sound of it; he liked hearing you be happy. And he should have known that you would be the designated driver for your friends—you were always taking care of someone. (Usually it was him.)
He watched you and your friends take the caps off the shots and clink them together with a shout of cheers for the bride as he took another sip of his own drink. It nearly came right back out as he coughed, watching your tongue skirt around the plastic.
“There we go!” The bride cheered before patting your cheek with uncoordinated fingers but you laughed anyway. “I want you to have fun. Have fun with me.”
“I am having fun! I promise,” you said before catching her hand and kissing her fingers, earning a giggle of your own. “And tonight isn’t about me!”
“I picked this bar for you!” The maid of honor said with a laugh of her own. “I was hoping I would be able to get your mind off that man who shall not be named.”
“No, you chose it because they let you dance on the bar.”
“That’s besides the point,” she retorted, finger pointed in your direction. “Two birds, one stone or whatever.”
“What?” The bride asked, dragging out the single syllable.
The maid of honor shook her head. “Babe, it has been over a year and you’re still hung up on him. You either need to get under him or get over him.”
You swirled your finger around the empty, plastic container, pretending to care about the remnants of your Jell-O shot. “I can’t help it.”
“What’s so special about him?” Another woman asked, stealing a second shot. “A year’s a long time.”
“Oh no,” one of your friends groaned. “Don’t get her started.”
The bride pouted again. “But I wanna hear it. I don’t hear anything anymore! I don’t even know who we’re talking about!”
“I’ve told you about him twice but that just…doesn’t matter,” you said, probably noting how intoxicated she was at the moment. “You’re busy with wedding planning, sweetheart. We don’t want to bother you.”
She waved it away, pout persisting. “Tell me. Tell me right now! I’m your best…” she hiccuped. “Best friend. Tell me.”
You licked your lips before sighing. “He’s…my boss.”
There was an answering squeal from the bride and a few others in your group before you waved it away with a halfhearted scowl, like you were trying to keep the smile from your face.
The grip on his drink was near painful now.
You were talking about him. You had been hung up on him for over a year.
“He’s just handsome and kind and funny. He’s nice when he wants to be and he’s always nice to me.”
“But not to everyone else, right?” The maid of honor said, sounding like she’d heard this before.
Beau adjusted his posture to try to hear your group better over the blaring guitars and thumping drums. He wanted to know what you had been saying—apparently repeatedly.
“Yeah. I mean, he runs a tight ship-”
“That is a terrible pun.”
“-but he tries to keep everyone safe and he just expects everyone else to do the same. So-”
“You’re burying the lede here. He’s smoking hot. A complete silver fox who’s got a banging bod.”
You gaped at the Maid of Honor’s outburst and Beau watched your mouth open and close a few more times without a single word coming out. Is that what you had told your friends?
“And he’s sweet to you?” The bride repeated, hazy eyes sparkling. “You hafta marry him.”
“They’re a sight for sore eyes. Good choice.”
Beau felt something in his neck pop when he quickly turned his head to see Cain settling opposite him in the booth. The other man’s eyes were dragging all over your group without a care in the world. Dragging all over you. “Did you strike out?” The words were out of his mouth before he could even begin to think of a different response. “I saw you talking to someone else.” It was a pitiful recovery but Beau hid his distaste for the entire situation behind another gulp of his liquor.
Cain’s mouth curled into a scowl for a moment. “You’ve been sitting here alone all night. You’re not doing any better.” A familiar sneer pushed at his features before he once again looked at your group. “Are you one of those that just likes to look?”
Thankfully or not, Cain didn’t wait for an answer and stood again, making his way over to your group. Just for a moment, Beau thought about just leaving. Just getting up and leaving and pretending this entire night never happened.
“A-Admiral Cain.”
Your voice cut through Beau’s thoughts with ease.
“I…I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Cain squinted at you, probably trying to place your face and Beau saw the exact moment Cain recognized you, a smirk pushing at his mouth. A few of your friends started whispering into each other’s ears, probably wondering if this was the Admiral you were hung up on. “Ah, Lieutenant, I should have known it was you.”
“Oh?”
Cain’s smirk grew. “Yes ma’am. I think I’d recognize that-”
Beau had heard quite enough and stood abruptly, cognac still in his hand. “I think we’ve had enough tonight, Admiral. Time to head out.”
The shock on your face only grew more apparent as you looked at him. “Admiral Simpson. Um…h-hi.”
“That’s him,” the maid of honor hissed into the bride’s ear.
Cain’s eyes were hard as they bored into the side of Beau’s face. He could feel them. But he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were even more beautiful up close. Dammit. Again.
“Why don’t we let the ladies decide if I’ve had enough?”
Your eyes went wide and you took a step in front of your friends, hands fanning out to keep them behind you. “I apologize, sir, but I don’t think that is entirely appropriate.”
“It could be our little secret and shouldn’t I be the one who says whether or not something is inappropriate? I’m sure we can all keep a secret.”
Something Beau had spent years trying to suppress started to bite at the back of his mind. Cold rage. He moved to step in front of Cain, blocking you from the other man’s gaze. “We’re done here, Cain.”
The tense line of his shoulders relaxed when he felt your warm hand press against his back. A quiet thank you. And the simple touch had warmth bleeding over him.
“We are just about to leave-”
“Bride and babes!” The bartender who had served Beau hollered. “You’re up!”
The maid of honor let out a curse and muttered something about never planning anything ever again before pushing everyone toward the bar again. And then Cain was saying something, Beau could hear the rumble of his voice at the back of his mind like a buzzing fly, but Beau couldn’t take his eyes off you.
You as you tugged down your skirt after it had ridden up when you climbed.
You as you helped the bride step onto one of the barstools.
You as you followed suit until you and the rest of your friends were lined up on the bar.
“Ladies and gents,” the bartender’s voice cut through the din of the bar just before the last song ended. “We have a special group here tonight. And they want to put on a little show for you all.”
The crowd gave a raucous cheer and then the opening chords of a song he knew well swelled over the bar’s speakers. And then you (and your friends) started to dance. It was filled with spins and giggles followed by twists and turns that had your legs nearly glowing in the low light of the bar as Dio continued to sing.
You're in danger, the last of a line
But the vision lasts forever…
The watching crowd hollered when you and the maid of honor showed off the moves you must have learned at your pole dancing lessons on either side of the bride. Beau couldn’t take his eyes off you. Wouldn’t.
“I see it now.” Cain’s voice pulled his attention for just a moment. “You want her all to yourself.”
He didn’t deign it worthy of a response. And honestly, what could he say? Denying it would be fruitless and accepting it would be handing over power to Cain. So, Beau said nothing.
The young just getting older
We are sunlight
We can sparkle and shine
And our dreams are what we're made of…
He just watched you.
He dragged his eyes up your form and saw you looking straight at him.
Just hold on
You can make it happen for you
Reach for the stars and you will fly
You're hungry for heaven
Hungry for heaven
Hungry for heaven
But you need a little hell, oh, hungry…
And, just for a moment, Beau felt like you were doing this all for him. This entire show was for him. That little dress and the way you inched it up your thighs as you moved was for him. The burgundy-tinged smile was just for him. The way your half-lidded gaze never strayed far from him in the crowd was for him.
And maybe it was. Maybe it was all for him because as soon as the song ended and you helped your giggling friends off the bar—taking extra care to help the bride down as she poked at the tip of your nose—you turned to him.
While your friends were swarmed by other patrons of the bar who had appreciated the show, you only looked at him. And then you were moving, pushing your way through the accumulated crowd and toward him.
You licked your lips just before you slowed to a stop in front of him and Beau tracked the movement with his heart hammering in his throat. “Did you enjoy the show?”
And what was he supposed to say to that? He had the wherewithal to notice Cain had retreated to a darkened corner with another drink and a different woman, his attention completely diverted.
Beau paused for a moment before nodding. What good would lying do now? Something had shifted, irreparably changed. For better or worse.
He could smell your perfume again as you moved closer, closer, closer. God, you were beautiful. And a voice that sounded almost like himself was screaming at the back of his mind that this was wrong, this was against all sorts of Naval regulations, that this would only end poorly-
But it quieted as soon as your fingers pressed against his chest. He could feel each of your breaths against his mouth. He could smell your floral perfume with each of his own inhales and wanted to bury his nose in it. In you. But what Beau happily noticed was the lack of alcohol that hit his nose. You were sober.
He knew adrenaline could make people do things that were out of character. Plenty of pilots, himself included, had landed their jet and jumped out, heart hammering and nerves buzzing. Maybe it was that for you, high off the little performance. Confident enough to approach your direct superior in a crowd. You sought him out. There was a silent conversation between you; were you going to do this? Could either of you stop? And Beau surged forward with his inevitable answer, closing the gap.
You tasted like heaven. Sticky sweet with a bite of something else and your hand gently curled over his chest as you sighed against his mouth. Your fingers inched up to press at the side of his neck as he licked between your lips.
Every sigh, every little noise, every brush of your mouth against his had his heart racing. This was what he needed, what every part of him had wanted since you had first spent the night at his side, helping him do monotonous paperwork. Just you, in his arms, and your taste on his tongue.
He didn’t even recall pulling you toward the small hallway that led to the bathrooms but he felt your smile against his mouth when he backed you against the wall. Your next breath puffed against his wet lips and your eyes still sparkled in the hallway’s shitty light. “We might have fifteen minutes before someone comes looking.”
“I can do a lot in fifteen minutes.”
The bathroom door creaked when he pulled you through it and the lock gave an answering click when he engaged it. You were soft everywhere and Beau groaned against your mouth as his hands skirted up your thighs, dragging the minuscule skirt of your dress with it. And you were sweet everywhere, too, as he tugged the tiny scrap of lace between your thighs to the side and drank you down. Your hands curled into his hair as he pulled one of your legs up and over his shoulder. He kept you upright as each flick of his tongue had you shaking and whimpering and filling his mouth.
He could do this forever, even if his knees ached and his trousers were unbearably tight.
Just as you shook in his grip and he felt you sliding down his chin, there was a sharp knock at the door.
“We’re leaving! I’m giving you exactly thirty seconds to meet us outside.”
Beau recognized the maid of honor’s voice on the other side. It was quickly followed by a chorus of giggles. But he hardly heard any of it as you sighed and curled your hands beneath Beau’s chin and pulled him up with a gentle tug. You kissed him, undoubtedly tasting yourself on his tongue, as your thumb swept gentle circles against his cheek.
Your eyes were hazy and half-lidded again and you stole another kiss against his mouth when he pulled your dress back down.
“You can definitely do a lot in fifteen minutes, Admiral.” Your finger swept beneath his lip, gathering the evidence of your secret and you licked it away. “I’ll return the favor. I promise.”
Before you slipped away from him again, Beau kissed you again. He couldn’t get enough of it, of you. Nor the soft laugh you let out as you whispered you’d see him on Monday.
Monday was going to be interesting. He didn’t know what it would bring, how any of this would turn out, but he had hope. And he liked to think you did, too.
Beau couldn’t wait.
A/N: please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!
#top gun rocktober#Beau Simpson x reader#beau cyclone Simpson x reader#cyclone x reader#tgm fic#tgm#female reader
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I will ease your mind.
Warnings: none! it’s just fluff and some slight angst?
Description: Bob soothes you to sleep by singing you, yours and his wedding song. (wc: 800+)
Tagging: @auroralightsthesky. Mary I couldn’t have written this without your constant encouragement & kind words :,) this one’s for you my friend <3
Song: “Bridge Over Troubled Water” by Simon & Garfunkel. I’d recommend giving it a listen before or during reading.
A/N: hi! so this is the first oneshot i’ve written in a minute. i love this song & have been listening to it on repeat lately picturing Bob singing it to me, which gave me the idea to write this haha :) i hope you all enjoy it <3
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Bob could tell something was off, from the very moment you two settled in for the night. Your lips barely grazed against his when bidding him his usual goodnight kiss, you avoided all eye contact, and were quick to flip over onto your side that faced away from your lover’s longing gaze.
Bob didn’t want to push or pry, but he knew he needed to get to the bottom of this. He didn’t want to have to witness you falling asleep feeling on edge. He wanted to comfort you and ease you the best way he knew he could.
He was gentle, making subtle movements and turning just enough to notice you starting to stir a bit. Bob could tell just how tense you were. You were practically balled up like a kitten and were moved towards the edge of your side of the bed. Your knees were scrunched up towards your chest and your shoulders were squeezed together. Bob was afraid that if you wound yourself up any tighter, then you would somehow end up stuck that way, in this very position.
Bob slowly moved an inch, not wanting to startle you. He oh so carefully reached out and placed a large palm onto your back and began to move his hand in soothing circles starting from the middle of your back and slowly traveling upwards towards your shoulder blades. he curled his fingers, which allowed for his nails to run along your clothed skin & he gently kneaded his thumb to soften up your tight muscles, which elicited a light purr from of you.
Bob’s movements didn’t let up, as he leaned down to press a light kiss onto your head. You were still tense and wound up, only letting out the littlest of sighs and hums from the soothing touches of your husband. Bob knew what could possibly fix this.
He began to lightly hum the sounds of a song, that he knew would pique your interest. You didn’t move initially, just soaking in the light grazes of Bob’s magical palm.
You suddenly perked up when you heard Bob reciting the words out loud, singing in his calm and quiet voice, as he began simultaneously running his fingers through your hair,
When you’re weary, feeling small. When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them off.
Oh this man, you thought to yourself. Bridge Over Troubled Water was the first song you both danced to at your wedding and it was just destined to make you crumble into a million and one pieces.
You reached back to gather your husband’s hand into your much smaller one and ran your fingers along the back of his palm, making sure to gently rub at the wedding band on his finger to further relax yourself. Bob continued to sooth you, his voice sounding like an angel’s sent from the Heaven’s above,
I’m on your side. Oh when times get rough, and friends just can’t be found.
You closed your eyes, soaking in the song that meant so much to you and your relationship. Flashes of your wedding day and marrying the love of your life were running through your mind. Bob had told you during your vows that the very first moment he saw you that day at the Hard Deck, he knew there was something so special about you. He knew you were going to be his person, til the end of your days. He made a promise very much like the lyrics of this song, that he would be by your side during all the ups and down. That he would dry your tears, ease your troubles and mind, and would most importantly be a friend to you if no one else could be found.
Bob persisted on. Singing out the words,
Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down. Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down…
And that was it. Those last lines of lyrics made all the stress and uneasiness that built up from the day be completely released from you. Tears fell from your tired eyes and rolled down your cheeks, as you let out a distinct sob into your pillow. It felt good to finally break away from anxiety’s clutches and allow yourself to feel freely.
Bob had paused for a moment, wanting to coax you to further let it all out and breathe for him. He knew how much you needed this and was glad he could be there beside you, to help you get past these intense built up feelings. Your husband continued to serenade you into the night, until your breathing finally settled and the only sounds heard were the bustling winds outside your window and the lightest of snores falling from your lips.
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#bob floyd#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd x y/n#robert bob floyd#bob floyd x female reader#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd fanfiction#robert bob floyd x you#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fanfiction#tgm#tgm fic#bob floyd fanfiction#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd fic#robert bob floyd fic#lewis pullman#floydsmuse
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To Be With You
Warnings: Mature, 18+ only. Fluff, workplace flirting, verbal sparring, angst, vulnerability, self-doubt, anxiety, swearing, pining, old school romance, sexual tension if you squint.
Character Pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x Reader
Word Count: 4.7K
Summary: Hangman takes a shine to the Admiral's new aide.
A/N: This is my first attempt at fluff in a while so please be gentle, I also know absolutely nothing about the US Navy and how it operates. As always, comments, reblogs and likes are all appreciated! You can find my masterlist here.
You haven't been at North Island for long, having transferred when your previous admiral retired but you've come to love the sea views and the sandy beaches. Waking up to the soft crash of the waves and the fresh ocean breeze is certainly a welcome change from the hot, dry suburbs of Lemoore.
You've found that Admiral Simpson is an intelligent, respectful man, firm but fair and most importantly, he treats you well. Like all military men he's disciplined, but he's also in high demand and with such a hectic schedule and high level of responsibility he can often become stressed and lose track of things.
That's where you come in. You manage his ever-growing email inbox, file all of his reports, arrange all of his meetings and supply him with a steady flow of strong, dark coffee to keep him functioning. You've established a routine with him and with that, his days run smoothly.
Your mornings are methodical; you shower, dress, have breakfast and then make the drive over to base. You shrug off your jacket as you reach the office and flip the switch on the coffee machine as you pass it, before settling down at your desk to make a start on your emails.
Beau enters ten minutes later and mumbles out a good morning as he passes, ambling towards the door of his office. He looks tired, you think as you pour him his usual black coffee.
"Good morning, Sir." You follow him as he moves into his office and hand him the steaming mug. He thanks you as he accepts it gratefully, taking a long sip and making a sound of relief as he sinks into his chair and swallows the rich liquid.
"Ok. What's the damage today?"
It's just after midday when a knock sounds on the door and breaks the silence, startling you. You frown as you glance at the clock on the far wall, Beau is scheduled in and out of meetings for the whole day and he hadn't mentioned expecting any visitors to you this morning. You straighten in your chair, slipping your phone away into your desk drawer before calling out.
The door opens promptly and in strolls a man you haven't met before. He's handsome; all perfectly styled blonde hair and sunkissed skin and you find yourself shifting in your seat nervously as he saunters towards you with an air of confidence and a dazzling smile.
"Afternoon, miss."
"Good afternoon-"
"Lieutenant Jake Seresin." He leans in closer to your desk, holding out a hand for you to shake and you oblige, offering him your name in return before taking his larger hand in yours and giving it a light squeeze. The name does sound familiar but you can't quite place it.
"It's nice to meet you, Lieutenant. What can I do for you?" His eyes narrow then and his lips quirk up at the corners, putting the dimples in is cheeks on full display. You don't miss the way that he eyes you, his pretty greens flickering down to your left hand before locking with yours once more.
"Pleasures all mine. I have some mission reports for the Admiral." It's then that you notice the collection of the manilla folders tucked against his side and you take them from him carefully, setting them down in a neat pile on the corner of your desk.
"And-" He drawls, his Southern accent as smooth as honey. "Maybe I wanted to see for myself if the rumours were true."
You falter, your brows lifting in confusion. His expression is teasing and his lips are curved into a grin, exposing his pearly whites. Anxiety swirls in the depths of your stomach and you eye him wearily, feeling defensive.
"What rumours?" He leans down even closer, into your space and you catch a whiff of his cologne; a heady mix of cedar and amber that makes you feel dizzy.
"About how gorgeous the Admiral's new aide is. Have to say sweetheart, they don't do you justice."
He winks at you and you scoff, heat filling your cheeks as you look away in embarrassment. You've never been good with men and now that this very attractive man is in front of you, flirting with you, you feel completely out of your depth. You clear your throat awkwardly, opting to try and remain professional rather than make an idiot of yourself.
"Careful Lieutenant, you could be written up for that." His grin only widens and your eyes narrow suspiciously. That horrible voice of doubt in the back of your head is screaming that this man couldn't possibly be attracted to little old you, that he must just be messing with you for the rise.
"Please, call me Hangman."
"Hangman?" You frown and he lets out a laugh at your bemused expression, it's deep and warm and you fidget in your seat as your stomach knots at the sound.
"My callsign, I'm a pilot." His finally straightens up and his chest practically puffs with pride, his mossy eyes gleaming down at you.
It's then that the light bulb flickers in your head, you've heard the moniker several times, whispered amongst the administrative staff, accompanied by knowing smiles and girlish giggles. You've also heard it from the support crews on one of your recent trips to the hangers along with some pretty choice vocabulary.
You think back on the meeting you had attended with Admirals Simpson and Bates a few weeks ago with Captain Mitchell, discussing his newly formed-now permanent Dagger Squad and it's members. Including the one stood before you now.
"I've heard plenty of rumours about you too, Lieutenant." You don't miss the way that his cheek flexes when you ignore his request and instead address him by rank. You feel a rush of satisfaction at having put a dent in his ego but it doesn't last and his smile turns impish as he calls your bluff with a raised brow.
"Do tell." His self-assurance starts to grate on you and you shrug absently as you lean back in your chair, your eyes falling to the multitude of ribbons pinned to the left of his chest.
"They say that you're good." He makes no effort to hide his delight as he stoops down and places his palms flat on your desk, invading your space once more. He surveys you with mischievous eyes, they fall to your lips and you fidget in your seat as heat begins to creep up your neck.
"I am good darlin'. I'm very good." You inhale sharply and his grin widens further, thinking that he's won this verbal sparring match of yours. You fold your arms across your chest defiantly, levelling him with your best glare as you recall some of his notorious exploits.
"They also say that you're an arrogant narccisist with no care for anyone but himself."
His pleased expression drops in an instant, his confidence slipping before you. He opens his mouth to retort but abruptly stops when the door to your office opens and his attention is taken away from you.
You exhale as the heavy air around you dissipates and silently thank whichever higher power has sent Sarah from finance early with her weekly budget report.
"Thank you for the reports, Lieutenant."
Sarah looks on, curious at the situation she's walked in on and Hangman nods to himself, his expression unreadable before he snaps right back into that infuriatingly cocksure demeanour. He throws you a wink as he backs away from your desk and makes his way to the door, ignoring the appreciative look that Sarah gives him as he passes her and leaves.
You're three quarters of the way finished with one of your reports when there's a rap at the door and you groan under your breath, knowing that you're not going to be finished with your task as quickly as you had planned.
"Come in."
You frown as Lieutenant Seresin slips into the office, wearing a broad smile whilst carrying a stack of paperwork in one hand and a takeaway cup in the other. You nod curtly as he approaches and he tilts his politely in return.
It's been a few days since he visited your office last and whether you like to admit it or not, a part of you was terrified that you had gone too far and successfully managed to scare off one of the single most attractive men you've ever met. You clear your throat awkwardly.
"What can I do for you, Lieutenant?"
"I have some more reports for the Admiral." You nod in understanding and take the bundle of papers from his outstretched hand, careful not to brush his fingers with your own.
You turn your back on him as you move to the filing cabinet in the corner, sorting through the top drawer until you find the correct section and deposit the files. You return to your desk then, the comfortable barrier that separates you both.
"Thank you Lieutenant. Will that be all?" He tilts his head and flashes you a coy smile as he extends the takeaway coffee out to you. You eye it warily, confused by the unexpected gesture and he watches, studying your reaction.
"Call it an apology." Your eyes narrow as you accept it hesitantly, your eyes flickering between his face and the white cardboard cup as you cradle the warmth of it between your palms. You choose to remain quiet, giving him room to expand on his words.
"The other day? I was out of line and I wanted to apologise. I meant no offence." You study him carefully, looking for any sign of ulterior motive but he seems genuine and the longer that you stare at him, the more his warm smile makes your insides twist.
"Well, thank you Hangman. I appreciate that." His green eyes light up as you finally concede and address him by the moniker, his lips pulling up into a broad smile.
"Of course." You raise the drink to your lips, taking a long sip in an effort to hide your smile. Your eyes widen as the liquid warmth hits your tongue; it's from your favourite cafe and it's a million times better than any of the standard issue you have on base, but what shocks you is that it's your exact order.
"How did you?-" You throw him a questioning look but he already knows what you're going to ask him. His expression is roguish and his lower lip catches between his teeth as he grins at you, before he turns towards the door and walks out.
Can you believe that he's interested in her?
I don't get it either!
Who?
You hear your name once, then twice, before you step into the room and the chorus of chatter dies. You stop in your tracks, feeling as if you're intruding and the collective of women all turn to look at you; some of them have the decency to look guilty at having been caught while one or two simply walk away, unbothered.
You feel mortified and you grit your jaw as you carry on to your office, ignoring the feeling of eyes boring into your back as you go.
Brenda from HR catches you as you pass by and you soften slightly when the older woman flashes you a kind smile. It's almost reassuring, but then she says 'Don't worry sweetie, they're just jealous.' and your confusion deepens.
Your brows furrow as you turn away and wrap your hand around the brass knob. The gears of your mind turning as you close the door behind you with a click.
You still as soon as your eyes land on the beautiful bouquet and you can't stop the smile that tugs at the corners of your lips. It's not the first unexpected gift that you've discovered on your desk in the last week but it's by far the most extravagant.
At first it was little just things, more cups of your favourite takeaway coffee, then a pastry or two from that charming new bakery in town. Then as a few weeks passed it became a box of fine chocolates, followed by the bottle of wine that definitely cost more than ten dollars and now, a gorgeous mix of flowers and foliage all tied up in pretty ribbon.
You feel conflicted as your eyes scan over the accompanying card, on the front of it is your name, on the back, the gentle cursive that spells out his callsign. It's the kind of romantic gesture that you read about in your crappy romance novels, the type of affection that you've always wished for, and yet at the same time it all feels too good to be true.
You think about the tales you've heard; details of the drunken escapades and the one night stands, the lengthy trail of bitter women and broken hearts that he's left in his wake. The thought of becoming just another notch in the aviator's bedpost makes your stomach churn and amongst it all, the same question remains.
Why me?
Your heart wrenches as you wonder whether he may have been put up to it, whether it's some kind of bet. These men were competitive at the best of times, but he wouldn't go to all this trouble to win some twenty dollar wager, would he?
That negative voice niggles at the back of your mind then. He would if it meant getting underneath your clothes.
You startle as the door opens behind you and Beau ambles in, uttering his usual greeting as he passes. He stops when he notices the flowers, a stark pop of colour amongst all of the beige.
"It's not your birthday, is it?" His expression seems slightly panicked as his eyes flicker back and forth between you and the bouquet. You smile softly and shaking your head.
"No Sir."
"Anniversary?" His frown deepens then.
Unlike some of your previous employers, Beau didn't like to pry into his staff's private lives more than was absolutely necessary. He didn't ask you about your relationship status or what your vacation plans were, only that you were ok and you strongly appreciated that.
"No Sir." Beau's expression hardens then.
"Did someone die?" Your eyes widen and you stumble over your words in your haste to cover
"Oh! No, no! They are uh- from a friend, Sir."
"A friend?"
He eyes you suspiciously but he doesn't press the subject any further as you shift on your feet and wring your hands, uncomfortable at having to provide an explanation.
"You are to report to me if you have any concerns. Is that understood?" His voice bleeds authority as he looks at you sternly. If you were unfamiliar with the man you might've been scared but you've come to know his ways and you feel a sense of gratitude as you process the hidden meaning in his words.
Are you ok?
"Yes Sir, understood." He nods once, acknowledging your confirmation.
"Good. The last thing I need right now is another HR nightmare." He disappears through to his office, he mutters away to himself and you just about manage to suppress a snort as you catch him grumble 'horny bastards' before the door clicks shut.
It's later in the afternoon and Beau has been summoned to a high priority meeting at short notice, one that you don't have the clearance to attend.
You've finished all of your reports, filed away your paperwork and refreshed your emails three times. The boredom creeps up on you as the clock ticks obnoxiously in the background, marking each passing second, taunting you.
It's then that you find your eyes drifting back to the pretty blooms, perched atop the mahogany in an old vase you'd managed to dig out of a cabinet.
Whilst you appreciate the Lieutenant's interest in you, the awkward encounter with your superior is enough for you to realise that you need to talk have a talk about the propriety of it all.
You've worked hard to get where you are and you don't want this man's attentions, honest or not, to give anyone the opportunity to question your professionalism.
You haven't seen him around, but you know that he's going to be flying today, you'd seen his name on the approved roster. You take a deep breath as you shrug on your jacket, knowing that you just need to grab the bull by the horns and get it over with, no matter how uncomfortable.
You take the long way around base; around the administrative buildings, then the barracks, past the mess until the hangers finally come into your view.
You can hear the rush of linemen on the tarmac, the heavy thud of of their boots and their shouts as they prepare for the landing of the four F-18's you can see on the horizon. A part of you wonders how otherworldly it must feel to be up there in the skies whilst the other, more rational part is absolutely terrified by the thought.
By the time you reach the tarmac they've already landed and the pilots have exited their aircraft; the group stands off to the side, making conversation amongst themselves as the linemen carry out their post-flight checks.
You notice a shorter brunette, the only woman in the group, she looks mildly irritated as she converses with a tall head of blonde hair and you feel a pang of empathy as she rolls her eyes at him. You can tell it's him from a mile off, even with his back to you.
As if on cue, she catches your stare and a curious look laces her features, she mutters something and points a nod in your direction, urging him to turn around.
Hangman's green irises lock with yours and his lips curve up in a pleased grin. He watches as you take him in; all sun kissed and sweaty from a hard day's flying, wrapped up in that obscenely well-fitting flight suit with the sleeves turned up to expose his strong forearms.
He makes his way over with confident strides, ignoring the questioning looks from the unnamed female pilot, as well as the three males who have taken notice of his departure and are watching the scene with interest.
You shift on your feet, feeling uncomfortable under their scrutiny of their stares.
"And to what do I owe this nice surprise?" His tone is warm, teasing, as he sidles up to you and your stomach knots as he looks at you fondly. You shrug, trying to play it cool as you lean back against the hanger door.
"The Admirals' been called away and I'm at a loose end, I uh-I wanted to talk to you." His mossy eyes narrow then, something unknown dancing in his irises.
"Is that right?" He plants a hand against the hanger door, close to your head and leans into your space. Whilst you're thankful that he's somewhat shielded you from the prying eyes of him team, you falter under the weight of his heavy gaze.
"Why don't you come on and take a closer look?" He jerks his head in suggestion and your mouth falls open slightly, although you see the F-18's from a distance all the time you've never had the opportunity to get up close and personal with one.
"You're not serious?"
"As a heart attack."
"But- won't we get into trouble?" On instinct, you glance around nervously and he chuckles. You can't help but appreciate the deep timbre of it as it rumbles in his chest.
"The engines' not on and the wheels aren't gonna leave the ground, we'll be fine. Besides-" He leans in closer, looking conspiratorial as he whispers close to your ear. "What Cyclone doesn't know can't hurt him."
He gestures an arm out in the direction of the flight line and you quickly oblige as your excitement gets the better of you, falling into step with him.
"Hey Hangman! Who's your friend?" Jake ignores the moustached man's taunt as you pass the group, his focus solely on you as he asks you about your morning. You catch the moment the brunette aviator jabs her elbow into his ribs and he groans out a complaint, rubbing at his side.
She offers you an apologetic smile and you return it before you refocus and realise that Hangman has come to a stop.
His face beams as he presents his aircraft to you proudly, like it's his firstborn child. You hesitate as you reach out to touch it, feeling the smooth metal underneath your palm, running it along the panel until you get to the part with his name on it.
"Is it weird that I think it's pretty?" He laughs, moving in closer to you.
"She's very pretty, but not nearly as pretty as you." The way that he's looking at you makes feel warm all over, heat creeping up the column of your neck as you let out a nervous laugh and look away.
"I bet you say that to all the girls."
"Actually, no." You sigh, turning to face him head on.
"Listen, Hangman-"
"Jake." He insists.
"Jake-" You stumble as he interrupts you, moving in closer.
"Did you like them? The flowers?" You notice that his expression is serious now, almost apprehensive. You bite your lip as a smile threatens to split your face and everything you had planned to say goes out of the window.
"I did, very much. Thank you." He smiles broadly then, putting the dimples in his cheeks on full display. Your gut twists as you speak your next words. "But why?"
His brow furrows deeply and he looks at you like you've just told him that the sky is green. You elaborate for him.
"Why all of the wine and chocolates and flowers when we've barely spoken to each other? I don't understand?" His face is perplexed as he stares at you with those mossy eyes.
"Because, I think you're beautiful and I'd really like to take you out."
You frown, feeling taken off guard by his answer.
"Look, Jake. I know about your reputation and I'm not going to get involved with someone who's just going to break my heart and move on."
He breathes out a sigh, scratching a hand through his short hair nervously.
"I'm not gonna deny the past happened because it did, but believe me when I tell you I'm different now. I'm older and wiser and when I look at you? You make me want things I never thought I'd want. After I messed up with you the first time, I knew that I needed to do things right, the old fashioned way."
You open your mouth to speak but he doesn't give you any time to interject as he rambles.
"You're beautiful and kind and smart, you don't fawn over me just because I'm a pilot and you sure as hell don't put up with any of my shit. You're different and I like that, a lot."
"But you don't know me, Jake. I don't know anything about you."
"I'll tell you anything you wanna know, sweetheart."
You shake your head as he takes another step closer, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off of his body, even through his flight suit.
"Look, I know that you work hard and you're damn good at what you do. I know how you like your coffee, that you like to sit on your porch in the evenings and watch the ocean and that at the weekends you spend time tending to your garden and taking long walks on the beach. Maybe I don't know what your favourite meal is yet, or colour or song, but I'd love to find out. If you'll let me."
You're left dumbstruck by his admission, devoid of all thought except one.
"You know where I live?" He blinks slowly then and exhales a laugh.
"Sweetheart, we live on the same street. I noticed you as soon as you moved in and I see you all the time." Your mouth falls open a little, your expression one of confusion as you try to figure out how you've never noticed him before, especially as handsome as he is.
Jake just grins, completely enamoured with you.
"And my coffee order?" He gives a shrug, his face coy as he admires the flush that's bloomed across your cheeks.
"I may have had to charm it out of a barista named Jenna." You dip your head as you laugh in an effort to hide your face, your heart hammering wildly in your chest.
He stoops slightly, his pretty green eyes searching your face until you concede and finally look at him once more.
"So will you let me in, sweetheart? Let me get to know you?"
That little voice in the back of your mind rears it's head and screams no! That it's a horrible, terrible idea. But what if it's not?
You swallow, summoning all of your courage as you nod slowly. Jake's face lights up, his expression is almost euphoric and you can't help but match it, your lips splitting into a grin.
You feel hot all over, your chest tight as your heart threatens to burst out. The level of emotion that you feel is both frightening and exhilarating but as you gaze into those his bright eyes of his, looking at you with so much adoration, you know that it's right.
"Alright. We can start with dinner."
#jake seresin x f!reader#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman x you#Jake hangman seresin#top gun hangman#hangman x reader#hangman seresin x reader#hangman seresin#hangman top gun#hangman x you#hangman x f!reader#top gun maverick#tgm#tgm fanfiction#tgm fic#top gun#fanfiction#fanfiction writer#ao3 writer#angst#jake seresin fluff#fluff#jake seresin angst#natasha phoenix trace#bradley rooster bradshaw
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little wallflower | bradley bradshaw x hearing impaired!reader
disclaimer: hello all. i wrote this for all of my lovelies who have loss of hearing, or have any type of hearing impairment, or am hearing and want to read a cute little fic. i myself am hearing, and i took a bit of inspiration from me being bradley, seeing as i work with a wonderful person who's deaf, and they are SO helpful and encouraging in my journey to get better at signing. if there are any inaccuracies, i apologise profusely - i tried my best to research what i could. seeing as i'm not american, i am learning ssl, and hope that I got the american signs right. please tell me what you think?<3
warnings: ignorance about hearing disabilities (nothing malicious at all, just good ol' norm thinking), bob being the mvp and a sweetheart, cursing. no use of y/n.
word count: 2.5K.
description: Bradley had seen you sitting on your own many times, and was bewildered as to why no one was talking to you.
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Bradley had noticed you a few times, often sitting by yourself nursing a beverage. Sometimes you were looking at your phone, and other times you were just observing the surroundings, smiling softly at the people who milled around. Bradley had never really seen you interact with anyone at all, except for ordering beverages from Penny, and then you always showed her your phone - something that puzzled Rooster a little. Perhaps you wanted to see if she had a particular drink that wasn’t too easy to get ahold of? Either way, he was enthralled by you. The way your soft smile lit up your face, and the way you seemed to be a little bit of a wallflower intrigued him. He also found himself wondering why you were always sitting alone. He’d only seen you once with another person, a friend who was gesticulating as you laughed - it was a very pretty sound, he decided, before he was ripped away by Payback to play pool.
Bradley always walked into the Hard Deck thinking that this would be the night he’d go over and talk to you - ask what you were drinking, where you were from, if you’d like to go out with him… but every time he chickened out, afraid that such a pretty person wouldn’t want a ruddy naval aviator who smelled of jet fuel and couldn’t stay in one place for too long. He kept his distance for a few weeks, stealing longing glances whenever he could.
One day, as he was sipping his beer slowly, Phoenix approached him with a roll of her eyes “When are you gonna make a move, Rooster? You’ve been staring for weeks,” she inquired, raising a brow at her friend.
“Make a move? Rooster?” Hangman smirked, letting his sentence hang in the air to rattle Rooster a little “who are we talking about?” Jake continued, his eyes scanning the filled bar. Natasha nodded her head towards you, and Hangman followed her gaze.
“Oh them? Don’t bother Rooster, they completely ignored me the other day. Wouldn’t even respond to my question,” this had Bob scoffing out an uncharacteristic laugh, that sounded somewhat like he was telling Jake that he was being an idiot. Hangman furrowed his brows, looking at Bobs’ smiling face “what’s with him?” He muttered as the WSO went up to get another bottle of water.
Rooster simply shrugged, watching you make your way over to the bar, near where Bob was stood.
“C’mon Roos, go talk to them!” Phoenix gave him a gentle push in your direction, and Bradley could feel butterflies thrash around his midsection as he cleared his throat before approaching you. You seemed to be deep in thought, waiting for Penny to help Bob with his order.
Standing next to you, Rooster looked down and smiled at you, before saying hi. You didn’t seem to notice at all, and Bradley suddenly wondered if perhaps Jake was right - you completely ignored him. Now, Rooster thought of himself as well raised - he didn’t want to touch you without your consent, but he also didn’t want to give up, even though being ignored was a pretty big sign you weren’t exactly interested.
He had to, though - he had to hear you say you weren’t interested before he gave up. So he reached out gingerly, only hesitating for a second before softly tapping your shoulder. You jumped as if you hadn’t noticed him standing there at all, and as you turned to look at him, your eyes had turned wide with surprise.
“Hi, I’m so sorry. I’m Rooster— I mean, my name’s Bradley, but uh I’m called Rooster by— uh… I was just wondering if I could buy you a drink?” He was rambling. Since when didn’t he know how to speak to a beautiful person? He could hear Bob barely containing his laughter behind him, and he had to fight the sudden urge to throw an elbow back to shut him up. You blinked, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times, with a pained expression. Damn. He’d blown it. He sighed and nodded slowly “I get it, sorry to have bothered you,” he felt dejected as he turned to leave, but stopped as he felt your hand on his wrist, and heard a sound that resembled “No”. It was soft, and little too quiet to actually make it audible in the loud, boisterous environment you were in.
He turned back, looking at you quizzically as you lifted a finger into the air - signalling him to wait as you tapped away on your phone. A frustrated noise left your throat as you scrambled to find the notes app you’d installed on your phone.
“They can’t hear you,” Bob spoke up from behind Rooster, coming to stand beside his pilot friend. Bradley looked at him, bewildered - what did that mean? Bob quickly waved a hand in front of your face, and Rooster slapped his arm - what the fuck was he doing? That was rude as hell. Bob only shook his head and laughed at Bradley’s exasperated look.
As you looked up, Bob smiled at you before signing with his hands swiftly. Rooster took in how your facial expression went from relieved to elated, smiling as you replied with your hands.
“Do you want me to translate what my idiot friend said?” Bob spoke softly as he signed, making that beautiful laugh fall from your lips again. Oh my god, Rooster thought, both he and Hangman were fucking idiots. You couldn’t hear them. He almost groaned at his ignorance.
He thought of himself as a man that was very ‘with it’. He considered himself a feminist, he thought everyone should be treated the same and that no person held any particular advantage over any other - he felt that people could believe in what they wanted and say what they wished as long as it didn’t hurt or put others at risk. But he had actually never really ransacked himself about his knowledge about hearing disabilities, which he felt slightly ashamed over now.
He watched you nod with a big grin, and he had to trust that Bob translated what he said (favourably, he hoped, perhaps Bob would take pity on him and wouldn’t translate into ASL how he’d fumbled it all). He watched you furrow your brow as Bob signed something that Bradley could only guess was “Rooster”, tapping his forehead twice with his thumb, his middle finger and pointer finger forming a V. He couldn’t be sure, but it made sense in his mind.
You locked eyes with him and his heart stuttered a bit as you smiled, repeated the sign Bob had made to his forehead and softly spoke “Rooster?” And then pointed right at him.
“They’re asking if you’re called Rooster” Bob smiled, he didn’t doubt that Bradley had surely understood, but Bob could tell that Rooster felt a little frozen under your gaze - and he figured he’d help kickstart this conversation by breaking Bradley’s little trance.
“Oh, yeah! I’m Rooster. Or Bradley.” He looked at you and then Bob before hesitantly trying to copy the sign they had made. You laughed and moved closer, adjusting his hand so it was at the correct angle before nodding at him with a big smile. Oh god, those butterflies came back with a vengeance having you standing so close to him.
“How do you sign ‘thanks’?” Rooster almost panicked, looking at Bob - was he being rude by asking Bob instead of you? Bob just smiled and put his fingertips, his palm open but not spread, to his chin before sliding it outwards ‘thank you’ he said softly. Rooster repeated the sign to your smiling face, and he felt as if he could stare at the way your eyes twinkled happily forever. It made his heart clench.
“I’m sorry that I assumed you could hear me,” Bradley said and watched as Bob made a fist, circling it in the middle of his chest before signing something else that was too fast for Bradley to differentiate. You just smiled at him and shook your head, Bradley took that to mean “don’t worry about it”, your facial expressions were so vivid and beautiful to him.
You signed rapidly to Bob for a few moments, holding your phone out briefly before you stopped. Bob smiled and turned to Rooster “They say they’re pretty good at reading lips, and that you two can use the notes app or texts if they can’t understand. You’re on your own now, pal” Bob smiled, patting Bradley’s shoulder.
“Bob, thank you so much. I had no idea you knew how to sign!” Bradley sighed, really feeling surges of gratitude to the WSO. Bob smiled before replying that his parents couldn’t hear, and he learned to sign and talk at the same time.
“That’s fascinating,” Rooster replied with a smile as you signed something to Bob that made him laugh. “What did they say?” Bradley asked eagerly, and Bob shook his head. “They said they appreciated me translating, but that they had a hard time with my accent” Bob smiled at Roosters bewildered face.
“I’ll educate you later. Have fun, man!” He simply said before retreating to the pool table. You took a hold of his hand gingerly, and Bradley felt his heartbeat pick up slightly at the feeling of your warm skin against his.
Making your way to the table you’d occupied earlier, he sat down opposite you. He felt a little out of his depth at first, talking whilst your eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes - but as he got more used to you taking a moment to write down a reply, or speaking shorter sentences in response, he felt as he would with any other person. He just wished he could sign as efficiently as Bob did, it would make everything so much easier for you. He wanted to learn how to sign so you wouldn’t have to concentrate so much on reading his lips. Why hadn’t he learned from the jump? It seemed silly now that not everyone was taught sign language in school.
You spent the night in that booth, laughing and getting to know each other, finding that you had quite a lot in common. Bradley thought you were just the sweetest, and he tried his best to not offend you or ask stupid questions - though sometimes they slipped out anyways. Like when he asked what type of music you listened to. He could kick himself. He actually apologized profusely before he saw you shake your head before typing on your phone.
“I hear a little bit. They call my impairment ‘severe’, but I can still hear some loud noises, and I love music that has a lot of bass in it - I love the thrum of the melody it gives” you smiled kindly at him, and he smiled back, grateful that you didn’t seem to mind explaining the most obvious things to him.
“It’s okay to ask about, you know? I don’t mind if there’s anything else you’re curious about,” you’d typed in after a beat, showing him the screen. He read the words quickly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, speaking slowly he asked how it was that you spoke - could you hear yourself? He felt stupid asking, but your voice was so sweet and soft, he was puzzled as to how one could form words without hearing them.
You smiled, typing away on your phone. You’d apparently lost your hearing after having learnt to talk, which made it easier to maintain the feeling of speaking certain sentences and words. You explained you preferred sign language, just because you couldn’t tell if your volume was too loud or too quiet, which explained why you’d spoken so softly, not wanting to seem like you were shouting.
Bradley smiled, mesmerized about your abilities, and he told you so as well. He could tell you were blushing at his compliment and that made him smile all the wider. Suddenly you took hold of his hand and held it to your throat before typing a quick “I can tell somewhat from how the vibrations feel in my throat when I speak - but it’s hard to tell what volume it’s at” and then you said “Rooster” out loud with that sweet voice Bradley had already come to love, even if it didn’t sound like everyone else. Perhaps that’s why he liked it so much. He could feel the vibrations that thrummed in your vocal chords, and he smiled. He’d never thought about any of these things.
You lifted your hand, raising a brow as if to ask a question, and he nodded - you placed your hand on his Adam’s apple. He laughed before saying that he thought you were beautiful. You smiled, looked down and blushed again before clearing your throat and slowly saying “You have a nice voice,”
Bradley beamed at the compliment “Yeah?” You nodded before typing “I can tell” with a little wink. God, he was a goner.
All too soon, Penny announced last round - and he made sure to swap numbers with you. You emptied your drink and typed out “I had a great time tonight. I’ll text you?” You smiled uncertainly, and he typed back “So did I. Please do text me so I know you’ve gotten home safe?” You grinned and nodded before wrapping your arms around his neck in a parting hug, waving goodbye sweetly before making your way out of the Hard Deck.
“Wow,” Rooster let out a breath as he made his way back to his friends who were slow to make it to the front door. Making eye contact with Hangman, Bradley groaned and said “Hangman, we’re fucking idiots,”
“I don’t even want to talk about it,” Hangman replied with a similar type of “fuck I’m dumb” groan. Bob was silently laughing behind them “That was absolutely golden,” he sniggered, throwing his arms around their shoulders and shaking them “Just two dumb pilots, huh?” He and Phoenix laughed.
“Jesus,” Rooster shook his head. “Bob. This was 'Rooster', right?” He signed and Bob nodded, laughing again “and 'thank you'” he repeated what Bob had showed him earlier. The WSO smiled and nodded at his friends eagerness.
“Can you help teach me sign language, Bob? I’d love to be able to talk to them better” Bradley sighed, wishing he could learn it all right this second. Bob smiled, he could tell this meant a lot to his friend, so therefore he said
“Of course, Brad. We’ll start with the alphabet tomorrow"
#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x oc#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x oc#rooster x reader#rooster x oc#rooster x you#tgm fic#bradley rooster bradshaw fic#my writing
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The Tipping Point
Summary: When Jake learns that no one has ever satisfied you, he makes it his mission to change that. Inspired by my favorite Seresin Slut @thedroneranger and my favorite Rooster fic I've written Just The Tip
Warnings: Language, Smut, 18+ Minors DNI
Pairing: Hangman x Reader
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Your eyes are as wide as the dinner plates the two of you were eating off of. You couldn't believe what your boyfriend had just suggested.
"You can't be serious." You said, looking at him in disbelief. "Jake, please tell me you're kidding."
"I'm as serious as a heart attack, darlin." Jake smiled back at you. "Jake, I—" He cut you off before you could finish.
"You told me that when we first started dating, you wanted to take things slow. And I'm totally okay with that. But you've also told me that no one has ever been able to get you off. I want to change that." He stated.
"I understand that, Jake, but I—" you protested.
"But nothing, honey. I'm a visual learner. Show me what you like. I want to take care of you. I want to show you that I'm better than the guys you dated before me. Prove that I am the best of the best." He smirked.
It really shouldn't come as a surprise to you. The fact that Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, Naval aviator extraordinaire, would want to prove to you that he is the best. The two of you had been together for just over five months, and in that time, he'd already prove himself to be the best boyfriend you'd ever had.
When you first started dating, you told him you wanted to take things slow. After a while, you told him the real reason was because no boyfriend or hook up in the past had ever made you cum. He had been trying to rectify that situation for a while now.
Though, him asking you to touch yourself so he could watch was not something you expected. You met his eyes. At first, you thought he was kidding. But with just one look, you knew he was serious.
You sighed. "Okay" you said in a voice just above a whisper.
"Yeah?" He asked. "Yeah." You confirmed.
A huge smile broke out across his face. Before you could change your mind, Jake was scooping you out of your chair and hauling you to your bedroom.
He gently deposited your feet on the floor. "Where do you want me to sit? You're in charge here." Jake said, kissing your head.
"Um, you can pull my desk chair to the foot of the bed. You said shyly. Jake quickly grabbed it and positioned it. With your back turned to him, you stripped off your shirt and pants. In a moment of confidence, you turned to face him. You were wearing a baby blue set. You could see he pupils go wide at the site of you.
Without saying a word, you reached behind your back and unhooked your bra. You slipped it off your shoulders and tossed it to the ground.
Silently, you let your panties slide down your legs. They were already damp, just from the intensity of how he was watching you.
Feeling cocky, you balled them up and tossed them to him. He caught them and immediately inhaled your scent.
"All of this just for me?" He asked. You giggled.
"Do you mind if I use my vibrator?" You asked him.
"Whatever you want, sweetheart. This is about you." He said. There wasn't a hint of jealousy in his voice. You'd been with a few gues who would have scoffed at the idea, but not Jake. He wanted to learn what made you tick. He was invested in you.
You opened your nightstand and pulled out your favorite purple bullet. You grabbed a pillow and laid down on the bed. Once you were comfortable, you put the pillow under your hips and spread your legs.
"Such a pretty pussy." Jake mumbled out. You raised your head just enough to look at him. His eyes were trained on your core.
You grabbed your vibrator and turned it to your favorite setting.
You let it slide through your slick and gathered it up before setting it directly on your clit.
You circled the toy around your aching bundle of nerves and sighed. Your left hand came up to squeezed your breasts, bringing your nipples to hard, pebbled peaks.
"Oh, Jake," you sighed. His names fell easily from your lips as you dipped your toy into your wet cunt before dragging it back to your clit.
"Fuck," you heard Jake grunt out. You looked up to see his shirt had been stripped off and that his pants and boxers were pushed down to his ankles and he was stroking his cock.
"Learning anything?" You asked him.
"Lots, keep going, baby. I want to see you cum for me." He moaned out.
Emboldened by his words, you turned the vibrator up a setting. The strong vibrations made your body jolt.
You kept circling the toy on your clit, applying pressure. You could feel your release approaching. Your toes curled, and you felt yourself clenching around nothing.
Your head thrashed wildly, and you couldn't contain your cries of pleasure.
"Oh fuck Jakey. Feels so good. Mmm, yes, Jake, yes!" You cried out.
"Keep going, baby girl. You have no idea how hot this is. My cock is so fucking hard from watching you. Better than any fucking porn." He moans out. You can hear him panting. It makes you even wetter knowing that he is enjoying this just as much as you are.
"I'm s'close Jake. I'm gonna cum." You cry. You can feel the tightness in your belly.
"Cum for me baby. I wanna see you cum for me. Please." Jake almost begs.
You flick your wrist and circle your bud a few more times before you are cumming hard.
"JAKE!" You cry his name as you work yourself through your high.
Once you've come down. You turn the toy off and set it to the side. You sit up enough to look at him.
Jake is panting, and you see the white ropes of cum covering his abdomen.
"Christ baby, you don't know how hot that was." He tells you.
You lay back on the pillows and sigh. You're trying to think of a smart ass reply, but your brain isn't working.
"Has anyone ever gone down on you?" Jake asks.
"No." You breathe out, still staring at the ceiling.
"Can I?' He asked. "Now?" You lean up and see that he's moved from the chair and is kneeling at the foot of the bed.
"There's no better time than the present." He states.
"You're sure?" You ask him. This is definitely not how you thought this evening would go.
He nods his head furiously.
"Well, why not?" You say before flopping back.
You'd no sooner gotten settled before Jake was pulling you to the edge of the bed. He made sure the pillow was still under your hips before he threw both of your legs over his shoulders.
"Tell me what you like and what you don't like, okay?" He asks.
"Yes, sir." You mock. But anything else dies on your lips as he broad, flat tongue slides across your slit.
Your hips jump at the pleasant but unfamiliar sensation. You hear him chuckle as his forearm comes to lay across your pelvis to keep you in place. He does it a few more times before tracing your clit with the just the tip of his tongue.
"Mmm.. that feels good." You sigh. He keeps doing it, speeding up and applying more pressure each time he does it.
It feels good, but you need more. You thread your fingers through his hair and push his face towards your core.
Taking the hint, Jake wraps his lips around the bundle and sucks it—hard.
"Shit! That feels so good, baby." You cry out. Jake hums against you and does it again.
He let's go of it would a soft pop before dipping his tongue into your greedy, wet hole.
He fucks it into you repeatedly. Your cries of pleasure, spurring him on. He laps at your core, tasting your sweet nectar. His nose bumps against your clit with every lick.
"Jake, I—I need—" you pant.
"What do you need, baby. Use your words. Tell Daddy what you need princess.
"Your fingers. Please, Daddy... need them to fill me up." You cry out.
He sinks his middle and ring fingers into you. You're so wet for him, the glide in easily. You're vaugly aware of the cool metal of his Naval Academy ring against your heat.
He curls them into you. Easily finding the textured spot that is guaranteed to have you cumming in minutes.
"Oh, Daddy, fuck, Jake, just like that!" You moan out.
Your hand grips his hair tighter. Your thighs close in on his head, trapping him there. The heel of your foot digs into his back. He'll probably have a bruise there in the morning, but neither of you seem to care.
Everything feels so fucking good. This is what you had been missing out on. Watching you get off had Jake hard as a rock again. He ground his hip into your mattress to relieve some pressure.
"You look so pretty like this baby." Jake praises you.
You look down and meet his eyes. The green of them is just a thin halo around his lust blown pupils. Never breaking eye contact, he sucks your clit back into his mouth and speeds up the motions of his fingers, curling them and scissoring your walls.
"Just like that! Oh, just like that! Please don't stop!" You beg him.
"Don't plan on it, sweets. Daddy isn't going to stop until you cum all over his face. Come on baby, give it to me. Make a mess all over my face!" He encouraged you.
You can feel your high building deep inside you. It's different, though. It's more intense than any orgasm that you've ever given yourself.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You chant.
"Jake, I'm gonna, shit daddy, gonna—" You try to warn him, but it's all too much, and before you can say anything else, you're cumming hard against his face. It's harder than you ever have cum in your life.
He works you through it, lapping and curling his fingers. He doesn't stop until you're cumming again. Screaming his name so loud, you know your neighbors can hear you.
He continues to drink up every last drop of your release. Your thighs are shaking as you push his head away. He unwrap himself and leans back on his haunches.
His spend coats his boxers because getting you off twice, with just his mouth and his fingers, God it was hot. But making you squirt for him? He feels like God himself because of that.
He crawls up beside you in the bed. Your eyes are glassy and your whole body is flushed.
"That was amazing." You gasp. You turn and look at him. He has a genuine smile on his face.
"So I'm definitely the best then?" He asks with a grin.
"Definitely. The others can't compete where they don't compare." You affirm.
He leans down to kiss you.
"We need to get cleaned up and change the sheets. We made a mess." He tells you.
"This goes without saying, but you're definitely the first person to make me squirt too." You tell him as you sit up.
"And I plan to be the last." He affirms as the two of you head to the shower.
"Is that so?" You cock an eyebrow and look at him.
"Absolutely."
Hope yall enjoyed this! As always, likes are great, but comments and reblogs are golden
Tag List: @pisupsala @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @roosterscock @roosterforme @hecate-steps-on-me @withahappyrefrain @arson-tm @sebsxphia @potato-girl99981 @caitsymichelle13 @lillyrosenight @callsign-hummingbird @inky-sun @writeroutoftime @afterglowsb-tch13 @heyoimjordy @phoenixssugarbaby @hypatia93 @bradshawseresinbabe @je-suis-prest-rachel @teacupsandtopgun @boringusername3 @starlightstories @daggerspare-standingby @utterlyhopeful-fics @talkfastromance4 @fighterpilothoe @t-nd-rfoot @phoenix1388 @abaker74 @peppizzathief @gigisimsonmars @emorychase @wannabeschyulersister @greatszu @shawnsblue @tributetomrsniffles @tv-fanatic18 @angelbabyange @sadpetalsstuff @softmullet @cowboybarbie @shewritesfiction13 @sweetlittlegingy
#top gun maverick#cherrycola27#top gun#lt. jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin smut#jake seresin#hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin#hangman smut#hangman top gun#hangman x reader#tgm fanfiction#tgm fic#tgm#tgm smut#top gun 2
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just kind of curious...
#top gun maverick#jake hangman seresin#bradley rooster bradshaw#robert bob floyd#jake seresin x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#bob floyd x reader#javy coyote machado#mickey fanboy garcia#reuben payback fitch#natasha phoenix trace#tgm fic#top gun fanfiction
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The Over/Under
Summary: Your friends insisted that the best way to get over someone was by getting under someone else. But you had been over your ex for a long time before you ever signed the papers, and you had no intention on hooking up with anyone. Then an attractive man with a mustache that really shouldn't look as good as it does catches your eye, and you suddenly forgot why you were hesitant in the first place.
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 6.2K
Warnings: Language, smut, talks of divorce
Notes: Written as a fun little surprise for my best gal @roosterforme for her birthday today, because what better gift is there than porn shared amongst friends, am I right?
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“What about him?”
“No way. I can practically feel that guy’s ego from here.”
“Him?”
“He looks like he’s barely old enough to be here.”
“Okay, what about him?”
“Hmmmm. Oooh. He’s cute. Hey, I think we found your guy!”
The words were followed by an excited jab to your side, and you hissed out an “ow” as you swatted the hand that had done so. Your best friend wasn’t phased in the slightest as she grinned at you, her eyes already a little glazed from the tequila shot you had taken upon getting to the bar - the very patriotic, very uniform filled bar, that was not your normal stomping grounds by any means.
Not for the first time since arriving a little less than thirty minutes ago, you huffed out a breath of disbelief. “Isn’t tonight supposed to be about celebrating being single again? Why are you trying to scope out guys for me?”
“Because what better way to get over someone than by getting under someone else?”
You couldn’t help but snort into your drink as you took a long sip. Truthfully, you had been over your ex-husband for a long time now. The divorce was nothing more than a logistical means to an end, which the bastard had dragged out for far longer than it needed to be. You had felt single for damn near years at this point, but as of earlier this week, you were legally so, as well. Finally.
“And what if I want to be on top?” you dared to ask, raising a challenging eyebrow. “What then?”
Your friends all burst into laughter, talking over one another as they weighed the merits of your question, unsurprisingly veering off into debates about the best positions for maximum pleasure. You rolled your eyes fondly, but tuned them out as you let your eyes scan the crowd. It was apparently their mission tonight to get you laid, which you honestly should have caught on to as soon as they had thrown a brand new lingerie set at you earlier that night. It was strappy and lacy in all the right ways and you hadn’t hesitated to put it on under your tiny black dress because it had made you feel good. Sexy, even. You deserved to feel that way just for you, so you had thought nothing of it. Now, though, their insistence made sense.
Pure curiosity had you looking in the direction of the man they had been trying to point out. He had that classic All-American look to him, all blonde hair and dimples, and you could see his shiny white teeth from across the bar as he laughed with his friends. He was cute, you supposed, and everything that your type used to be. But now he reminded you a little too much of your newly-made ex-husband, and you felt nothing as you looked at him. You let out an internal sigh as your eyes shifted to the left.
You paused, your head cocking to the side as you took in the man sitting beside him. Now he…oh, now he was something. He was very something. He was handsome in a way that was different from your usual type. He had dark, tousled hair that curled on his head, and a mustache that you’d normally find hideous but that only served to enhance his very attractive look. His features were sharp, with a strong jawline and eyes that you couldn’t quite make out the color of from this far away. He was dressed casually in jeans and a ridiculous looking Hawaiian shirt over a plain tee. Just like the facial hair, it was a combo that you were sure would look ridiculous on anyone else - like the pretty boy sitting beside him - but that he was somehow pulling off. Something about him seemed to exude confidence without being cocky, and it was intriguing.
You took another sip of your drink, feeling your heartbeat a little faster with strange anticipation. In principle, you had been single for a long time now. You weren’t planning anything tonight, but you also hadn’t felt that familiar tingle in your tummy since before you got married.
Your thoughts were interrupted as your friend jabbed you in the side again. "Cute, right?” she asked eagerly.
You shook your head, your gaze still fixed on the handsome stranger. "No, not him," you said, your voice low. "The one next to him.”
Your friends followed your gaze. "Oh, damn," one of them breathed out, her eyes widening with interest. "He's hot."
You didn’t pay attention to whatever your friends were talking about as you stared, swirling the remaining liquid around in your glass. He was broad, and even seated, you could tell he was tall. He was thick in all the best ways, and you wanted to know what he looked like up close. Almost like he could feel you watching him, he cut his eyes in your direction. They connected with yours, and instead of shying away, a flash of boldness had you raising your glass to your mouth to take a small sip. You swiped your tongue over the moisture left coating your bottom lip, eyes never leaving his. A slow grin spread on his face and a thick eyebrow raised before he turned back to his friends. You smiled to yourself. It was a rare moment of feeling powerful and in control, and you relished it.
He was looking back at you now, and you felt a flutter in your stomach at the intensity of his gaze. You shifted in your seat, feeling a sudden urge to be closer. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and you didn’t quite know what to do with it. It had been so long since you had tried to pick up a guy, and you weren't sure you remembered how
A moment passed and he looked away again. Feeling emboldened, you downed the rest of your drink and pushed out of your seat. “I’m going to get another,” you announced before you could talk yourself out of it. It was a bad cover and you knew it, and by the way your friends cheered and started egging you on, they did too.
You took a deep breath as you tried to quell the flutter in your stomach. You made it a point to not look at him as you approached the bar. You leaned against the counter, ordering a tequila shot and splurging for the top shelf when the kind, pretty bartender asked for your order. You weren't sure if the drink would help settle your nerves or make them worse, but you needed something to distract you from the intense gaze you swore was burning into your back.
She slid the shot across to you with a grin, nodding when you asked her to put it on your tab before quickly moving on to other waiting customers. That tingling sensation of being watched came back stronger, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when a warm presence leant against the bar at your side, facing you. You turned your head, and oh, wow. He had a smile on his lips that made your knees weak, and from up close, you could see faint scars that had faded with time. He had eyes the color of dark honey that sucked you in, and even that ridiculous mustache looked soft. Your whole body tingled at the proximity.
“Hi,” you said, and you were surprised at how breathy you sounded. His smile widened as he looked you up and down.
“Hi.” His voice was deep and husky and you fought the urge to groan at how delicious it sounded. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.
You grinned, feeling a little giddy. "I just ordered one," you said, holding up the full shot glass. You felt embarrassment heat your face when a little bit of the clear liquid sloshed onto your fingertips, but you forced yourself not to break eye contact.
He chuckled, cheeks tinting red, and leant in a little closer. "Then let me join you for one.”
You pretended to think it over, humming in fake consideration. When you finally nodded, that charming smile of his turned just a touch toward a smirk. He called the bartender by name when she passed, asking for a shot of whatever you were having. The woman, Penny, huffed out a laugh that sounded amused but not judgemental as she efficiently poured it and slid it over. When she walked away, he raised it to yours.
“Cheers,” he murmured, voice low. You shivered in delight.
“Cheers.” You downed your shot, and he followed suit. The liquor burned its way down your throat, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way he was looking at you.
“What’s your name?” he asked. He sat himself down in the barstool you had been standing beside, and you couldn’t help but glance down at his legs, spread in a way that you would be standing between them if you shuffled just the slightest bit to the right. His denim clad thighs were thick and looked so inviting. When you met his eyes again, they sparkled like he knew what you had been thinking.
“What’s yours?” you asked instead. You were trying to get some of that control back that you had felt on your walk over here. You inhaled a subtle deep breath, catching another whiff of his cologne.
He chuckled lightly, ducking his eyes and looking at you through thick lashes that you envied. Your knees threatened to give out. “Bradley,” he introduced. He extended a hand. You took it, feeling the roughness of his palm and the strength of his grip. You couldn’t help but imagine those hands on your body, exploring every inch of you. You told him your name, and hummed in appreciation, repeating it. The syllables sounded like velvet coming from his mouth. “What brings you here tonight?”
“Oh,” you breathed. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you contemplated how to respond. You were proud of your decisions - of finally being free. But you weren’t sure how that would come across to a stranger you could definitely see yourself having a good time with. “Just…celebrating,” you settled on.
“Celebrating huh? Is it your birthday?”
“Maybe,” you shrugged, hoping it came across as playful and coy. By the laugh he let out, you thought you had succeeded.
“Okay, a woman of mystery I see.”
You smiled, lifting a shoulder again, not bothering to confirm or deny.
“Alright, mystery woman. Can I buy you a drink this time?”
You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of all of your friends. They weren’t even trying to mask how they were staring at you, one of them even shooting you a thumbs up that made you roll your eyes. Bradley was still staring at you when you turned your gaze back to his, and you got lost in those dark honey eyes. It was sobering how quickly and intensely you were responding to him. You couldn’t remember the last time a man had that effect on you. That aspect of your marriage had been dried up long before the ink on the paper was. When the two of you finally separated almost a year ago, you had spent the time focusing on relearning who you were on your own, standing on your own two feet. You were cautious by nature, and it had been so long since you felt desire toward someone - even longer since you felt desired in return.
But when you shifted, you felt the straps and the lace comfortable against your skin under your dress, and you realized that maybe giving yourself the opportunity to show it off that night wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Maybe your friends had been onto something after all.
“I’d like that,” you finally said, and he was already smiling as he opened his mouth to respond, but you held up a finger to stop him. “But I have one condition.”
“Name it,” he said immediately. He was already waving down Penny behind the bar, and his lack of hesitation was so sexy.
“We move out of sight of my friends. I’d rather not feel them watching us the whole time.”
The laugh Bradley let out this time was loud and free, and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped in return. His smile turned into a devilish grin and he leaned closer like he was going to share a secret. “Deal,” he said, “and also incredibly relatable. Don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure my friends are doing the exact same thing.”
Now that he said it, it did feel like there were multiple sets of eyes on you coming from opposing directions, and you giggled even harder. Once your drinks arrived, he stood up from his stool and offered you his hand. You had been right about him being tall, and you had to tamper down the sudden urge you felt to climb him like a tree. Instead, you took his hand and murmured for him to lead the way. You followed him closely as he led you through the crowded bar, feeling his warmth radiating off his body. The spicy scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and you found yourself wanting to breathe him in even more.
The cool night air was refreshing once you walked through the back doors and further down into the sand. Bradley kept a tight grip on your hand as you stumbled in your heels, but luckily it wasn't too far before he stopped next to a few sunken beach chairs.
You could still hear the music and the chatter from inside the bar, but it was quieter. There were string lights along the railing and torches in the sand that provided the slightest bit of light to where you could still easily see around you. You were far enough away that you could have privacy, but close enough to where you could easily scream and catch someone’s attention. You doubted it would get to that, but it was good to know your self preservation instincts were still working amongst all the things this man was making you feel.
It was nice out here, you decided, and before he could ask if it was okay, you were letting go of his hand and sidestepping him to sink down onto one of the oversized chairs. You patted the spot next to you as you looked up at him, and Bradley didn’t make you wait before he was squeezing onto the seat beside you. He was so close that his thigh pressed a delightful line against yours. It was all you could do not to melt into him.
You took a sip of your drink, the cold liquid providing some relief against the heat building in you. Bradley took a drink of his own, his eyes never leaving yours, and you couldn’t help yourself when you glanced down at his lips for a second; you wondered what it would be like to kiss them.
“Tell me something about yourself,” Bradley said, breaking the silence.
You thought for a moment, trying to think of something interesting to say. It was almost like you suddenly forgot every intriguing thing about yourself. You glanced down at the drink in your hand, swirling the liquid in the glass. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to fly,” you decided on.
Bradley sat up a little bit straighter, and pressed just a little bit closer. “Oh yeah?” he asked, and he sounded genuinely interested, almost excited. “Planes?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, and then couldn’t help the snort you let out. “Well my preference would be Superman style, but something tells me that won’t happen. So a plane will do.”
He smirked a little, taking another sip. He licked some of the liquid off of his mustache, and you wanted to know how the beer tasted off of it, too. “You’d look good in the spandex tights, though. No doubt about that.”
The line should have been gross and offensive, but coming from him, it felt like a compliment, and you couldn’t help but laugh as those butterflies erupted in your stomach again. “What about you?” you asked, and you didn’t know if it was your increasing level of comfortability with this man or the earlier tequila shot hitting your bloodstream, but you knocked your shoulder into his as you spoke. “Tell me something about yourself, Bradley.”
His smirk fell into a soft smile, and either mischief or the reflection of the moon was making his eyes sparkle. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.”
“Try me.”
He leaned so close that your breath caught, and for a moment you thought he was going to stop the conversation all together and kiss you. You were ready for it, even. But instead, he leant just a little bit to the side and whispered to you like he was sharing a secret, his lips brushing your ear. “I’m an aviator,” he told you, and his proximity made it so that it took a moment for the meaning to register to you.
“Oh my God,” you gasped, eyes wide, and he was already chuckling as he pulled away. “You fly!”
“I do,” he laughed, the sound deep and infectious, before tacking on in further explanation that he flew for the Navy.
“Wow,” you breathed, after he finished regalling you with more details about his aircraft and how long he had been flying, and the different planes he had gotten in the cockpit of over the years. He talked about it with a passion that you knew he wasn’t bullshitting or trying to impress you - he genuinely loved what he did. You toyed with the words before you spoke them, taking a deep breath and laying your palm on his thigh. You tried to keep your voice light and playful, despite your body humming. “Maybe you can teach me some time.”
“I’d be happy to,” he told you, “if you think you can handle it.”
It was a challenge, a proposition clear as day, and you knew it was your out if you wanted him to back down. But that’s not what you wanted. Not even a little bit. You swallowed thickly at how his gaze intensified. It felt like he was looking right through you like no one else ever has, and you liked it.
“I think you’ll find that I can handle a lot of things,” you murmured, and even you were surprised at how raspy your voice came out - sexy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “I’m more than what I may seem.”
“So I’m discovering.” There was a moment of silence between you, but it wasn't an awkward one. Rather, it was charged with anticipation and desire. You could feel the pull between you, and you tracked the bulge of his adams apple as he swallowed. He cleared his throat and shook his head, and it was refreshing knowing you were having an effect on him, too. He held his half full glass up to yours, clinking them together once you did the same. “Here’s to discovering more.”
It got later and later as you sat out in the sand talking and getting to know this beautiful man sitting beside you. And the more you learned, the more you liked. He had a sense of humor that matched yours and a voice that sent shivers down your spine, and you hung onto every story with rapt attention that he returned whenever you spoke. Bradley was easy to talk to, and you found yourself getting lost in the conversation. The warmth of his body against yours was addicting, and you found yourself leaning into him even more.
“Can I make a confession?” you asked, after a particularly enrapturing tale of racing his best friend in an F-18 and almost getting caught doing so.
“I want to know all your secrets,” he said in return, and you almost moaned at how smooth the line was. Instead, you playfully rolled your eyes before you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to figure out how exactly to say it. He waited you out patiently, the hand from the arm he had draped across the back of the seat a little while ago tracing your shoulder so lightly you almost didn’t feel it. Your empty glasses were in the sand in front of you, but neither of you felt drunk on the limited alcohol you had consumed.
“I told you I was out celebrating tonight,” you started, and Bradley made a noise of recognition that let you know he remembered.
“Is it your birthday afterall?” he teased. You laughed softly at the way he put you so at ease.
“No, not my birthday. My friends actually insisted on taking me out tonight to celebrate some news I got earlier this week.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmm,” you hummed, before taking a deep breath. “My divorce was finalized earlier this week.”
If he was surprised or bothered by your words, it didn’t show. In fact, he didn’t flinch at all, just sat as relaxed as he had been all night while his fingertips continued to cause goosebumps to erupt all over your skin from their contact with your shoulder.
“How do you feel about that?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but marvel at his nonchalance. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but you don’t think it was this. You sighed happily in response to his question, and was delighted when he laughed a little. “That good huh?”
“That great,” you corrected. You shrugged, and his hand steadied on your skin, a nice weight on your shoulder. A soft smile played on your lips. You knew you didn’t have to tell him - truly, it was probably better if you didn’t. But something made you want to be honest with him. You tried not to read too much into that. “It had been a long time since he made me feel the way a man should make his wife feel, you know? We were over way before I ever served him with the papers, which was almost a year ago now. So it was a long time coming.”
“Enough time to get over him?” Bradley asked. Your breath caught because you swore there was something like hope in his voice. You desperately wished you were right. Regardless, you didn’t hesitate in nodding.
“I’ve been over him for ages,” you confirmed. “Just took awhile to make it official.”
He made another noise of understanding, and leaned in closer. He lifted a hand and your heart raced wildly in your chest at the way he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip in a way that made you gasp quietly. The way he was looking at you made it feel like you were the only two people in the world.
“He was a fool for letting you go,” he said, so quietly you wondered if he meant to say it out loud.
Bradley leaned in closer, his lips hovering near your ear. You felt the heat emanating from him, and your body responded with a shiver. "You deserve to be wanted," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. You turned your head to look at him, and for a moment, you were lost in his dark eyes. You felt a sudden urge to kiss him, to taste his lips that looked so soft and inviting. You leaned in, closing the gap between you.
The kiss was electric, sending shivers down your spine. His lips were soft and full, and his tongue was warm and intoxicating as it slid into your mouth. You moaned quietly, feeling a rush of desire pulse through your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. He responded with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You went willingly when he pulled you into his lap.
You broke the kiss for a moment, gasping for air as his tongue slid along your chin, down your neck, leaving a burning trail of heat. He bit at your collarbone playfully, smiling up at you. It was wicked and full of promise.
He used his grip on your hips to pull you down onto him, groaning at the friction. His own hips arched up to meet yours, and your head fell back as you both let out a moan. His teeth grazed along the soft skin of your neck, and you couldn’t help but claw at his shoulders and the back of his neck as you felt the rush of heat already pooling between your legs. He was hard, you could tell, and you wanted him so badly.
You had no idea what was happening or what was going to happen next, but it didn’t matter. All you wanted right now was to feel his body against yours. You heard his breath hitch as you let your hands roam his chest, hard and warm against your palms, the muscles firm and toned. You let your fingernails drag down his abs, eliciting a groan from him, and you grinned in satisfaction. You wanted to see more of that reaction, see more of him.
You moved to scoot back, intending to unbutton his jeans, but he grabbed your wrist before you could.
“Let me take you somewhere,” he murmured, and you let out a breathy laugh even as you nodded.
“Bathroom inside? Your car?” You leaned in for another kiss, but Bradley pulled back. He cupped your face in his big hands. The pad of his thumb rubbed a smooth line on your cheek.
“You deserve more than a quickie in a bar bathroom or a parking lot, Sweetheart. Can I take you home?”
“Yeah,” you breathed. You were blown away at how he continued to make you feel, how he was treating you like you were worth something. You wanted him so much, and you thought it was more than just physical, even as you were aching.
Your friends were still inside, clearly having had more to drink while they waited for you, and flirting with a few men in uniform of their own. You made quick work of letting them know you were leaving, and you didn't stick around for their catcalling as you followed Bradley into the parking lot, your hand held tight in his. You were trembling as you sank into his front seat, and you know it’s not just from the chill in the air.
He kissed you again before he put the classic Bronco into gear, your address plugged into his GPS. His hand was heavy on your thigh during the drive, and part of you was glad he didn’t do more than let it rest there, a reminder of his presence. You weren’t sure you could handle any more without losing control.
He pulled into your driveway and killed the engine, and for a long moment, the two of you just sat there, breathing heavily as you looked at one another. Finally, after a long moment, he raised that gentle hand of his and tucked some of your hair behind your ear.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, and his voice sounded reverent.
“Bradley.” You let out a shaky breath, swallowing down all of your nerves. “Come inside.”
It was a miracle that you managed to open the door without dropping your keys as Bradley kissed down the side of your neck, and you pulled him inside eagerly. You didn’t bother giving him a tour as you guided him up the stairs to your room. There would be time for that later.
You bypassed the ceiling light to turn on one of the bedside table lamps instead, casting a soft glow throughout the spacious bedroom. Bradley was right there when you turned, the two of you moving at the same time. His hands stroked down your sides as you pressed yourself against him, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. You let out a moan as your tongue tangled with his again. You threaded your fingers through his hair, just as soft as it looked, and tugged. He hissed out a low, sexy sound of approval.
You pushed the Hawaiian shirt off his shoulders and then tugged at the white shirt underneath it. He took the hint, detaching from you to pull it off over his head, baring his chest. You stepped back for a moment and let your eyes wander over him. He was incredible, toned and muscular, and the light dusting of hair on his chest made you bite your lip. You wanted to trace the lines of his muscles with your tongue, feel him against you. Your eyes moved down to see his erection straining against his jeans, and you licked your lips. You were so ready for him, and he was ready for you. You could tell. When your eyes trailed back up to meet his, the look he was giving you was hungry.
Before you could overthink it, you were tugging at the side zipper holding your black dress together and lowering it. You pushed it off of your shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Bradley blinked once, his gaze inevitably dropping. His eyes widened noticeably as a deep groan tore from his throat.
“Jesus Christ, baby.” The wonder in his voice was evident as he took in the lingerie that your friends had thrown at you earlier in the night, and you made a mental note to thank them tomorrow.
He seemed to be struggling for breath as he swallowed and stepped forward, sliding his hands up your sides to cup your chest. His thumbs brushed across your nipples, and you moaned at the sensation, arching into him. He leaned in and kissed you again before he began to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, down to one breast. You dug your nails into his scalp, whimpering as you felt his teeth tug at your nipple through the lacy fabric. His tongue teased it, flicking over the sensitive skin. And then, with no warning at all, he was lifting you up and laying you down on the bed. You raised up on your elbows as he made quick work of taking off his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He pushed them and his briefs down all in one go until they pooled at his feet. Your eyes widened at the site. His cock was hard and huge, and you grew wetter just looking at him.
You held out your hand without a word. He crawled onto the mattress, looming over your body as he braced his hands on either side of you. He kissed you again, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He kissed you for a long time, so long you thought you were going to be drunk off of it. When he did pull away, it was only to trail his lips down your neck, making you writhe as his mustache brushed against your sensitive skin. His mouth moved to your collarbone again, then down to one breast, and then the other. You keened at the sensation. Then his lips were on your stomach, and he shimmied himself down the bed until he was between your thighs. Slowly, he tugged your panties down your legs. He spread you wide, his eyes never leaving your center. He leant forward and inhaled deeply, groaning at the scent - your scent. He pressed a featherlight kiss to the inside of your thigh where it was settled on his shoulder before looking up at you.
“I’m going to devour you,” he stated. Before you had any time to react, his mouth was on you.
He was ravenous, lapping at you as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. You felt it all the way through your body as he moaned against you, your body writhing against his mouth. You were so hot, so ready for this man to take you. You let out a loud moan as he licked your clit, then took it into his mouth and sucked. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he brought you to the edge as his mouth worked you over expertly.
You don’t remember the last time a man had his mouth on you, let alone made you come from it. When you came, it was hard and loud, your hands buried in his hair, his name a mantra on your lips. He crawled back up the length of your body and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His thick cock twitched against your sensitive pussy, and the feeling of him settling between your legs was enough to have you pulling away from his kiss, breathing deeply.
His eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at your body, and you felt your face heating up at his silent perusal.
“I’m clean,” you whispered urgently, “if you want…”
He answered you with a groan of your name, his forehead pressed to yours, his cock twitching. “I am too. You sure?” You nodded, and without a word, you reached for him. You watched his face as you stroked him slowly. His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned into your touch. He let out a throaty moan when you guided him to your entrance.
“Please,” you whispered. His eyes opened as he slid into you, filling you up entirely. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling. He was so thick and hard inside of you; you felt so impossibly full.
“You feel incredible,” he told you, still not moving, but you could feel how much he wanted to.
“Bradley,” you begged, and he withdrew slowly until just the head of his cock was still inside of you, pressing against your clit. He slid back in again, filling you up until you couldn’t think of anything but the feeling of him deep inside of you. You could feel it all the way to the top of your head, all the way down to your toes, and you moaned as he pulled out and thrust back in again.
His pace was tortuously slow at first, in a way that could only be deliberate, driving you crazy. You could feel every inch of him leave and enter you, over and over again. The feeling of him moving inside of you was almost more than you could stand, but still, you wanted more. You were ready to beg him to go harder, faster, but you didn’t need to as he finally, finally started to pick up the pace. You wrapped your legs around his hips as he found a steady, powerful rhythm. You cried out with every thrust, and he groaned out your name, his arms shaking with the strain of holding himself up above you. Soon, he was fucking you hard. Every thrust drove him deeper inside of you, hitting that spot that made it almost impossible to breathe. You could feel yourself getting close.
“Come on, baby,” he panted. “Come for me.”
You were drowning in him, and when he pulled you in for another kiss, there was so much passion you thought you might be swept away by it all. You’re not sure what to do with yourself, but you know you don’t want this moment to end. Your walls tightened around him as you let go, and you could feel him shuddering as he came with you.
He stayed there, kissing you softly for a long time before he gently pulled out, rolling onto his back beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you with him. You pressed a kiss to his chest before you rested your cheek on his sweaty skin, listening to his heartbeat as it began to slow. He kissed your head lightly, and for a while, the two of you just laid there, basking in the afterglow.
It was Bradley who finally broke the silence, and your whole body trembled at his words.
“Rest for a little bit, sweetheart. I’m not done with you tonight.”
Your pussy clenched. You could still feel his cum oozing out of you slowly from round one, and if you were honest with yourself, you had been wet since you first laid eyes on him. You picked your head up to look at him. Your voice was breathy with anticipation when you asked, “Is that so?”
“Yes. And then, I’m gonna convince you to let me stay the night. And in the morning, after at least one orgasm, I’m gonna cook you breakfast.”
Your breath caught and a lump formed in your throat. He said it so confidently, like it was an indisputable fact. You were surprised at how much you longed for it to be just that.
This was not at all how you had anticipated your night going.
“And after that?” You dared yourself to ask.
He traced your cheek with a sated smile on his handsome face, his mustache twitching and his dark honey eyes sparkling. “I told you, you deserve to be wanted. And I want you.”
--------------
Main Masterlist
Notes: Happy Birthday Em! Thanks for being born. Hope you enjoyed this! Now go do fuckboy things and celebrate 🎉💚
Thanks to @mak-32 for the banner and for all of her help with this!
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j.s. | Welcome home
Summary: After a mission, Jake gets some well deserved break at home. However the week might not turn out how he had planned.
Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x childhood bff!f!reader
Warnings: Angst, mention of death and near death experience, mention of break-up, probably inexact american army facts, ever most likely inexact description of Texas, mention of food, two idiots in love, happy ending
Word Count: 9.2k
A/N: I've said it before, I will say it again. The only trope that I can write/read about Jake is a childhood/best friends to lovers, don't fight me. I also see Jake as an older brother to two half-sisters his mother had with a very good man, after his father abandonned them. This is my canon.
Anyway, this is way too long and way too chaotic but I just couldn't stop writting so enjoy!
Masterlist
Y/N was literally hopping up and down with impatience - or perhaps was it the three cups of coffees she had drunk to be able to keep up with the 2-hour-long drive to the airport in the middle of the night. She was standing on the arrival floors, on her tiptoes, trying to locate the person she was picking up. The flow of travellers coming through the arrival doors was continuous, so many blond heads coming through and none of them was his.
Her childhood best friend’s flight had landed a dozen of minutes prior; 3:28 a.m. was the time she received a “be right there, see you soon” text. Ever since then, the seconds had been going past very - very - slowly and with every second passing, Y/N chest had got narrower from anticipation to the point she felt like she couldn’t breathe. It hadn’t been more than a year and a half now that they had seen each other in the flesh. Of course, there were the texts, the emails and the FaceTime calls, but it was never the same.
“Jake!”
The sea of people in front of them seemed to split in half to let them collide in one another. The said Jake let his bag fall to his feet to catch a flying Y/N, lifting her from the ground as if she weighted nothing. Her hands found the back of his neck and her head found the crook of his neck, reuniting their bodies as if they were only one mind.
“Hey sweetheart,” he sniffed her hair, intoxicating himself from her perfume.
Jake let her down reluctantly when he realized they were in the way of other people reunions. After swinging his bag over his shoulder and dragging her near a row of seats, he finally took a good look at her, dark circles under puffy red eyes and hair all other the place. He dried her tears softly and kissed the top of her head, something he was sure he hadn’t done since they were in high school and that fucker of Chad had broken up her heart - thinking of it now, it seemed like it was a lifetime away. However, he knew that in this moment there was no sadness in her tears. She was crying probably a little happiness to seeing him again, but most certainly a lot of relief to have him alive in front of her.
He took another step back to have an even greater look at her. Y/N was exactly how he last saw her one year or so ago, and exactly how she looked like even all the other times he had to leave. She did not seem to age, and he was sure that the fine smile lines she was now wearing had always been there. It brought comfort to his heart to know that whatever would happen, she would always be waiting for him. He knew it was also selfish, but he had made peace with those thoughts a long time ago. These were moments that he was collecting in his mind for when he was somewhere overseas, fighting for his life.
“My my, did you grow up a few inches?”
“Oh, shut up!” Y/N laughed and tried to nudge him in the ribs. Jake easily grabbed her right elbow to bring her closer in another embrace, so very glad to be home, even only for a little while.
Ventilation was swinging litters of hot air into the car's cabin as it was a rather chilly night for October in Texas. The full moon was lighting up all the roads in front of them, just as if it was making sure they would get home safely.
During the drive, the main discussion turned around how excited everyone would be to have him there. Y/N and her parents were the only ones to know about Jake’s surprise visit; they had only known for about three days before his flight landed that he unexpectedly got a week of leave. They would surprise his family later that day for lunch - only after they both had a rather long nap to make up for the sleepless night.
Jake had seen his family a couple more times than Y/N this past year and a half. Even if he considered Y/N to be family, this wasn’t exactly the rule of the administration. Blood family had some more privileges, like sometimes visiting for the holidays. His mother and one of his little sisters also visited him in Singapore when he was stationed there for an exercise in the Taiwan Strait; they had booked a vacation to be able to see him there. Y/N, at that time, had been unavailable - she had her own life after all.
It was what Jake found the more difficult; to keep up with her life. Most of her friends were common friends from high school. With her going to a different university and later with her different jobs, some of her friends were total strangers to him. However, they all seemed to come and go into her life, leaving more or less damage.
“I am sorry about you and Nick.”
Y/N finished getting back to the right line of the highway and removing the blinker, before glancing quickly in Jake’s direction. He was looking at her, with an expression she couldn’t quite read, but that she understood as some kind of gladness. She sighed while turning her focus back on the road.
“You can lie better than that, Jake.”
“Well, didn’t like the guy so…”
It had been a couple of months now than her longtime boyfriend Nick and she had broken up. What confused Jake the most was how this was not a topic for discussion. She hadn’t called crying; she did not seem to be angry. She just announced it to him like it was nothing and directly switched subject. He hadn’t found a way to bring it back on the table, so he asked their friends and family. They all had the same answer; she was doing fine. She seemed to have continued her life just like nothing had happened.
“Was it him-”
“It was me,” Y/N cut him off quickly abruptly, leaving Jake with an uneasy feeling. She sighed again, probably realizing how harsh her tone had been. “This wasn’t working out anyway.”
Though she could not see him, Jake nodded back acknowledging her response. He still felt like there were more to it, but he understood that now wasn’t the time to discuss it. Ever since they had known each other - and it went back to kindergarten, they hadn’t had many secrets for one another. And if they had, it was never anything major.
So, he shook off this feeling and gently grabbed her hand resting on the gearshift to squeeze it softly.
“I do am sorry, though.”
“I know.”
It was nearly six in the morning when Y/N pulled up in her parents’ driveway.
The porch light was on, welcoming them, making sure Jake knew he was expected, and it made him smile fondly. It still felt surreal somehow; after everything, he was home. Getting out of the car, he breathed the fresh air of Texas like he hadn’t breathed in years.
Y/N was already opening her trunk, getting out a duffel bag that seemed to contain some clothes for today. Jake jogged toward her before she was able to get his own khaki bag out. She rolled her eyes, smiling, when he gently slapped her hands away to take care of it.
“Mom set up a spare bed in my room,” Y/N informed him while walking to the front door. “Just like the old days.”
And nothing in the house had changed either.
The hallway was still a drive along memories with all sorts of pictures hanged upon the wall. Y/N’s parents wedding portrait. Y/N’s baby pictures. Y/N on the day of the start of her first kindergarten year - just before they met each other. A couple more of first day of school pictures - this time with him in it as well. A couple of family vacation pictures. And along with them, a couple of pictures of events he wasn’t even there to attend. Y/N’s university graduation, her parents’ thirty-year anniversary celebration party, her first promotion celebration dinner…
The kitchen was still on the right, the living room on the left and straight ahead the stairs to the bedrooms. Y/N’s bedroom still had Justin Timberlake poster hung up on the walls along with some pictures of friends and family. The teddy bear he won for her at the funfair when they were not even ten stood on her bed. Jake swore that if he opened the dresser, he would still find the shelf that was for his stuff back then.
Without many words, both of them got ready for bed. Y/N took the en-suite bathroom first and when Jake got back in his sweatpants, she was already in bed, cuddling Mister B the teddy bear. His chuckle made her look up to him with sleepy eyes and quickly look away when she realized he didn’t wear a shirt. He kissed her on her forehead before tugging her more tightly in her sheets and turning off the bedside lamp.
“Do you remember when I couldn’t sleep unless someone was holding my hand?”
Jake only hummed in answer, and even in the darkness of her room, his hand found hers instinctively. Their fingers intertwining immediately, he did just as he had promised when he was only just a kid; he never let it go.
“Son,” Y/N’s father spoke from the other side of the kitchen, “don’t worry about it.”
Jake shook his head, smiling, before proceeding with what he was already doing: loading the cup he had used to drink coffee in the dishwasher. Ever since he had been up earlier that morning, Y/N’s parents had pampered him with all their attention while also being busy preparing lunch. Every time he asked if they needed help, they would assure him he just needed to stay put in his seat.
It had always been like this, for as long as he had remembered. Whenever he had gone over when Y/N and he were still in middle school, her parents had always taken good care of him, making sure the crust of his PB&J sandwiches were cut off, putting on his favourite beddings when they were having a sleepover, drying his clothes in the air dryer when they came home soaking wet from the park. He felt loved in a different way than he did at home, where he had a hard time adjusting to his new family dynamics with his two younger step-sitters. Growing up, they continued on listening to him and caring for him. Y/N’s father was the one he went to for advice before he enrolled. Ever since, and with the little time he had with them every time he came home, it still hit him in the face how much they loved him like he was their own son.
“Do you need help with anything?” He asked once more.
This time, they did not have time to answer. Y/N appeared on the doorstep, changed out of her pyjamas, hair still wet. “The shower is all yours, Jake.”
She watched him go as if she had to make sure he remembered the way to her room. She hadn’t really realized yet that he was really here, with them, and feared that he would just disappear at any minute or that she would just wake up from whatever dream she was having. Somehow this also seemed to be all too familiar, like a play they had rehearsed a hundred time before. It broke her heart a little to know this was most likely not going to happen again before a very long time, that it could actually never happen again.
Y/N got this thought out of her head as soon as it came. She didn’t need to think about this. Not now. Not ever. She just needed to enjoy whatever time she had with him at home.
“He looks good,” her mum stated once Jake had made it to the top of the stairs.
“Yeah, he does,” Y/N spoke softly, eyes lingering to where Jake had been only a couple of seconds before, suddenly wondering if he was really as good as they thought.
When Jake got back to the kitchen the entrance clock had just struck eleven. Only sixty minutes until he would be reunited with his family. It never felt more real, but he couldn’t quite realize it. He was so used of being far away from them, totally disconnected from their realities, hearing their news after everyone else. Yet, he had always found them as he had left them, eyes watering to see him home or gone.
He joined Y/N on the vegetable preparation. Washing, peeling, cutting kept him busy while the anticipation started to build up. All while Y/N’s father asked him about what new manoeuvres he had learned. Being an aviator himself, they could talk about flying for hours to Y/N’s greatest damn; she had the biggest fear of flying - and perhaps the fact that Jake nearly crashed them while flying an old aircraft he had restored with her father when they were teenagers had something to do with it.
“These boys,” Y/N’s mother sighed playfully as Jake and Y/F/N were debating whatever solar planes were the future of aviation. Y/N smiled as she shared a knowing look with her mother, who was getting ready to lay the table in the dining room.
“Mom, hold on,” Y/N called before reaching inside the cupboard next to her, “you are missing a plate.”
“Why? Is Mark coming after all?”
Y/M/N’s face went white in only a second as she realized what she had just said. Not knowing what to do else, Y/N handed her the white plate. Looking sideways to Jake, she hoped he hadn’t heard - she didn’t want him to find out like this, when his whole family was going to be here in the next thirty minutes.
It was already too late though; Jake’s attention had of course switched to their awkward interaction. Her father was quick to step in, wiping his hands on a cloth and moving towards his wife.
“Of course he is, darling. Let me help you bring those into the dining room.”
Y/N watched them disappear before quickly turning back to the carrots she was now cutting in a Julienne, praying Jake would just drop the subject. Ever since she had learned that Jake was having a leave, she had planned their reunion to be perfect. She had purposely lied to his family, pretending to have a very big news to share with them so they all agreed to gather even if the atmosphere was not good. She had made them promise to bury the hatchet, for “her” and most absolutely for Jack. Whatever touchy topics they would have to talk about, they could do it after.
“Why wouldn’t he come?” Jake still asked and, at that moment, she knew that whatever she would tell him would never be sufficient to not draw his suspicion any further. She couldn’t lie to him even if she tried.
“Just been busing with work lately, you know how it is.”
Without letting him time to ask more questions, Y/N went for the stoves to make sure the sauce was still reducing as it should have. She could feel Jake’s eyes burning holes on her back and could only hope he would drop the subject.
“Jake, son,” Y/F/N had just gotten back from the dining room, “would you mind giving me a hand with the roast?”
After taking a last look at Y/N, still very focused on stirring the sauce, Jake turned to her father. It wasn’t until she didn’t feel his eyes on her that she turned to look at him. She watched as her father made him took out the turkey so he could put some more butter on it. Out of the corner of his eye his father gives him a reassuring wink signalling her he had got this.
The bell rang at the exact same moment Y/N put the last plate of hors d’oeuvres at the centre of the table. Shooting a look across the piece, she saw her father squeezing Jake’s shoulder in what seemed to comfort him. She smiled shyly, trying to hide her own nervousness. Thanks to her father, Jake had nearly forgotten about the earlier incident about Mark and the reason he wouldn’t have been able to make it. He hadn’t asked any other questions, and they hadn’t given away other secrets. All was well in the best of all words, or so she still tried to convince herself. It was all that mattered.
“Just like we said, you both stay here, and we’ll bring them for you.”
Y/N watched as her parents disappeared in the hall. She turned to Jake who she now realized he was close at her side - she knew from the way his lips were set in a tight smile that he was somehow nervous. When noises started coming from the hall, Y/N grabbed Jake’s hand without thinking. She needed him to know she was there, that she would always be there, just like they promised when they were younger. It would take much more than a thousand of miles and a few hiccups to take them apart. As if he was thinking the exact same thing, Jake squeezed her hand back.
Jake’s step-dad was the first to enter the dining room. Y/N saw his eyes go from herself to Jake right next to her side, his eyes lighting up in realization. Yet, he didn’t say anything, holding a finger to his lips to let them know he would stay silent while moving further into the room as if nothing had happened. He and Jake had never been particularly close; he was a good man, a good husband, and a good father to his daughters, but Jake’s fatherly figure had always been Y/N’s father.
Next to enter the room was Jake’s youngest step-sister, Sophia. She immediately spotted him, letting out a cry and running into his arms. He crushed his sister in one of those same hugs he gave Y/N when she picked him up from the airport. It warmed her heart to see them like that. Sophia was still very young when Jake had enrolled; she was only just a kid and had grown up with the lack of his older brother. She was looking up to him so much that Y/N had sometimes to remind her that he didn’t have only qualities. He was her hero in so many ways…
Sophia’s reaction got the rest of the family - his mother, Olivia, his other step-sister, and his step-brother, Mark - in the dining room quite quickly. There were a lot of “Jake!” shouted from across the room and loads of tears, happy smiles, and hugs.
“I can’t believe he is here.” Sophia cried again; this time she was in Y/N’s arms. “And I can’t believe you lied to us.”
“Sorry not sorry,” Y/N smiled, tugging a string of her hair behind her ears before bringing her in an even closer hug if it was possible. She wasn’t sure she had seen her this happy in her life, she realized.
Y/N was an only child with a very little family. Over the years, Jake’s family had grown to be her own as well. As children first, as they were always all together at either one’s house or the others. As teenagers when his step-sisters weren’t babies anymore and they had started to be able to play more with them. She remembered helping his mom getting both of his sisters ready for school, all of them celebrating Christmas at her parents or going dress shopping for Olivia’s first prom.
Ever since Jake had been deployed on the West Coast and later overseas, they had grown even closer. There were brunches on Sundays, just the three of them, where Sophia would file them up on her latest dating adventures. There were lunches at Olivia’s office after they had taken a midday yoga class. There were breakfasts with Sophia before her classes began. Y/N had always made sure they were alright, as if she had to do it for Jake.
So far, the lunch had turned out great.
Jake had told them all about his last position and this group of pilots he had been joining overseas. Everyone had started feeding him bits and pieces of what had occurred ever since the last time he’s been home. Olivia and Mark had managed not to fight, which was a miracle in itself, per Y/N’s opinion. Jake’s mom had finally stopped crying. And Sophia seemed to have forgotten about those hard choices she would have to make once she graduated from college at the end of the year.
At least, that was the case until Jake asked about it.
“So, any thoughts yet about what you’ll do next year?”
“No, not really.”
Y/N had already seen that look on Sophia’s face. It was the same one she made when she was hesitating between an avocado toast and pancakes at the place they were used to going to brunch; every time she had been making this face, she had ended up with ordering both. Sophia eyed her tentatively and Y/N immediately shook her head no, silently pleading her not to do whatever she was thinking.
Today was not the day. Jake had only gotten back from abroad hours ago, they would have enough time to discuss it in the next couple of days.
“I am thinking of enrolling,” Sophia stated abruptly.
Boom.
The bomb had landed.
Y/N sighed, mentally cursing Sophia for needing whatever validation from him. They all had talked about this extensively for months on now. Decide to enrol was one thing, accept that one of your relative would do the same was another. She knew how Jake was; he didn’t look like it at first sight, but his family was his everything. He had made the selfish decision that could result in them losing him forever, yet he wouldn’t accept that she’d do the same.
From the deathly silence that came after Sophia’s statement, Y/N rested the cutlery on the side of her plate, bracing herself for whatever had to come. Her attitude made Jake immediately turned to her. She had never seen the wrinkle between his eyebrows this deep before. She didn’t know if it was from dread, disappointment, or anger.
“You knew?”
Jaw tight, Y/N didn’t answer, and Jake huffed - of course, she knew. How could she not? She was here, with his own family, when he was thousands of miles away fighting for his country. She was here, only a ride away, when he couldn’t even remember the last time he had enough telephone network to FaceTime them. She was there, physically with them, when he was just a ghost, present for a few days a year before disappearing for months on hand.
Y/N tried to reach out for his left arm to try and calm the whole situation down, but he moved ever so slightly she couldn’t touch him. The fire in Jake’s green eyes was incandescent. He was angry, with Sophia, with her, with everyone. And to know he didn’t even know half of it…
“Let’s not start now,” his older step-sister stepped in to try and reason him.
“Why?” Jake retorted immediately. “Wanna updates me on what is going on with Mark as well?”
Olivia opened her mouth to answer and as she couldn’t seem to find something to say, she then closed it and lowered her head. She and Mark had officially announced a few weeks before Jake returned that they were going to take some time apart. They had been married for nearly three years and they were having a rough path. They had started couple therapy, trying to make things work. Y/N couldn’t count the hours Olivia had spent on her couch, crying and eating ice-creams.
Y/N knew exactly how she felt like. The deception of thinking she had found the love of her life only to realize it was more complex than this. The sadness of loving someone and it still not being enough for the two of them to be happy. The paralyzing fear of being alone, of never being well enough.
She needed a shoulder to cry onto and a lot of love, and not to be reminded of what a failure she thought she was.
“I am sorry,” Sophia mumbled. Y/N wasn’t sure to whom she was apologizing. Jake? Them?
“You can’t seriously be thinking about it?” Jake half-shouted, pointing her finger at her like he was accusing her of the worst betrayal.
“Don’t say anything you’d regret, son.”
Y/N’s father word seemed to put some sense into him as he leaned his back against his chair, folding his arms against his chest. The distress on Sophia’s face was now palpable and she was on the verge of crying from Jake’s quite violent reaction. Though she didn’t expect Jake to be totally supportive, Y/N had not expected him to reject the idea that much either. She had thought that he would’ve still listen to her reasons, maybe try to talk her out of it, but finally make peace with the idea. Just like they had. Just like they all had when he was in her shoes.
Olivia had regained her composure and wrapped an arm around her sister’ shoulders. The look she sent Jake probably refrained him from attacking again his little sister. Instead, he chose another target for his anger.
“How can anybody be cool with this?”
Before Jake’s mom could speak, Y/N called him out. “Why could you do it and not her, Jake, huh?” She wants to be like you so bad, don’t you see?
“That’s not the same thing.”
Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes.
It made her even bitter. For all the things he hadn’t told her when he had no reason to hide it from her. For him being hurt that they didn’t want to discuss as such important topics over the phone. She would have liked to be sorry to hide all this from him, yet his reaction had only comfort her on her choice.
“You’re being unfair.”
“Am I now?” he laughed. “Excuse me for putting my life at sake and not wishing for me sister to do the same.”
“Did anybody ask you to? If anything, we would all have loved to keep you by our side.”
“Oh, I see. So, this is all my fault, right?”
The daring look he offered her made her heart jump in her chest. Her stomach was in fire; consuming her from the inside. She was tired from the sleepless nights she had for the last few months. And sad about the outcome of this lunch. And disappointed in him. And quite frankly done with his attitude.
Sighing, she gave in and looked away, throwing her napkin on her plate at the same time. Whatever this was, it was too much for her to handle. “If you’d excuse me,” she announced as she moved her chair back. “I am not hungry anymore.”
“Y/N-” he called after her, grabbing her arm to make her stay. She gave him a pained look before abruptly pulling away from his grip.
“Welcome home, Jake.”
Jake’s face appeared once again on her phone screen.
Big bright smile, sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, forehead sun-kissed by the first rays of sunshine of spring. The picture had been taken one of the few times she had fly out to California to visit him. They had such a good time that Y/N used to hold all those memories close to her heart. Now, she couldn’t even look at it.
She couldn’t count the number of texts Jake had sent nor the number of messages he had left on her voice mail. She hadn’t read nor listened to any of them and had even decided to turn off her phone at some point during the night. She needed some time alone to take a breath and to swallow the disappointment that was forming a lump in her throat.
Despite the emotional roller coaster this day had been, she hadn't fallen asleep until late in the night, turning over in the sheet nonstop while thinking of all the comebacks she could have said to his face. And like every other night for months now, when she had finally managed to get some sleep, her worst nightmare had woken her up a couple of hours later.
It only made her feel worse and she cried all the tears in her body. It was like whatever emotion she had retained in the last year had come back to her like a wrecking ball. She was angry for all sorts of reasons all linked to Jake one way or another. She was also very sad of the situation she found herself into, of Jake having spoiled their reunion, of the spectacle she had given in front of her loved ones.
So, when she turned on her phone a few hours later, eyes still puffy and red from the lack of sleep and the crying, she didn’t hesitate to turn down his call when his smiley face appeared on her phone screen. At that time, she discovered the multiple texts and missed calls of her parents and Jake’s sisters. She sent them a quick group message, letting them know she was fine and that she would catch up later. Leaving her phone on the kitchen counter, she got ready for her day.
Her phone rang four more times while she was getting ready. She was now determined to let him know to leave her alone. She was still pissed, and she needed to compose herself. This was without counting on the doorbell ringing when she was about to answer her phone.
Stopping whatever she was doing, she made the few steps from the kitchen counter to her apartment door, opening it without even thinking who she would find behind. Much to her surprise it was the only person she didn’t want to see. Jake. Standing there, phone in his hand.
“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed when she nearly shut the door in his face.
He stopped it before it was fully closed and after a deep sigh, Y/N let him in without even giving him a look. She closed the door behind him, passing him - still without looking at him - and went to the living room. She leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing her arms on her chest much like he had done during lunch just the day before.
Jake stood in the middle of the room, watching around him. It was the first time he was in her new place, the one she started rented after she broke up with her long-term boyfriend. It wasn’t much, only a one-bedroom apartment with a sanitized decor - she hadn’t had the heart to make it her own. It was close to her work and not a too long drive from her parents; it was all she really needed.
Y/N studied him in silence. He must not have had the memo about the Texas weather at that time of the year as he was only wearing a beige sweater, sleeves rolled up. It wasn’t much of a surprise he had forgotten how it was; he had spent so little time home in the last ten years.
When her eyes finally got to his face, she realized he was now staring at her. She tried reading him like she could before, but what she found in his eyes, she couldn’t interpret. Perhaps something had been broken between them. Perhaps there were only so much absence someone could handle. Perhaps they had let the miles come in between them for real this time.
She couldn’t tell how long they stayed like this before he finally spoke.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Long gone was the hope she had that he would apologize.
Jake had never been one to be wrong; he was probably even the most stubborn person she had ever met. Though she liked this confidence in him, she also knew it was hiding something much deeper. His trauma of being abandoned by his father when he was still a toddler. The fear of his loved ones realizing what a failure he was, despite everything he had already accomplished. The fear of never being enough.
He had assured her it wasn’t one of the reasons he had enrolled, and she knew he was lying to her just as much he was lying to himself. But she wasn’t her twenty-something-self; she wasn’t going to protect his feelings anymore. Now that they didn’t have an audience, she could lay her cards on the table.
“Do you mean, just like you didn’t tell us about the ejection seat accident that you had six months ago?”
She saw his face drop ever so slightly before he regained his composure back. She wasn’t the only one keeping things from him, yet contrary to him, the things she was keeping a secret weren’t really hers anyway.
“How would you know?”
“Javy called me that time,” she stated dryly, memories of the call she got in the middle of the night flowing to her head. She still had nightmares about it most nights. “He wanted me to know in case your brain injury worsened, and they had to call your family.”
This secret, she had never told anyone and had carried the weight of it on her own until now. She had smiled and assured everyone that all was fine for the days - sixteen in total - they didn’t hear from him; how could he, he had been literally in a 24h surveillance at the hospital. She had had Javy on the phone to report every little detail he had of Jake’s evolution. She hadn’t had sleep for weeks straight and had nearly cried when Jake had called him after a very busy and unexpected mission he took part in - another way for putting he had just got cleared from the hospital.
“It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing, Jake! You got banned from flying for six weeks. Six fucking weeks!”
“And yet, it wasn’t the first time I ended up in the hospital, nor was it the last time. You know that’s part of the job.”
Y/N snorted.
Like hell she knew. The job description went with never being in the same time zone as your loved ones, missing every single milestone in their life, putting his very own safety at risk so they could all be free and safe, and omitting all details of the national security missions to which he was taking part. She was pretty sure though there was no line in his contract about lying about his health, especially when he could have died, to his family.
For some reason, this whole situation had made his absence even worse. She realized he didn’t feel safe to let them know when things had gone bad; if this time she had known, she couldn’t even imagine all those other times Javy hadn’t been there to inform her. It had awakened a visceral (and most likely also irrational) fear in her. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him and she still wasn’t ready to accept it.
“Why is this such a big deal when you knew what was going in here and didn’t even tell me?”
If she hadn’t been this tired, Y/N would have probably walked to him to slap him. How could he compare his near-death experience to his sisters’ decisions? How could any of it be equivalent?
“This was not my truth to tell,” she only replied blankly.
Yes, she wasn’t very proud of hiding things from Jake and lying on purpose. But she wasn’t thirteen any longer and when people confided in her - when she promised she wouldn’t tell him anything - she wasn’t going to go running to her best friend to spill all the tea.
“Will you then tell me the truth about what really happened between you and the other dickhead?”
“I already told you everything,” she answered dryly, a little bit too quickly for it not to be suspicious.
“I don’t believe you.”
Y/N knew from the sound of his voice it was pure provocation. He gave her the same daring look she had just seen the day before - the same consuming flame was in his eyes - and she could see his infamous smirk dawning on his lips. She wondered why he wanted to prove just how right he was - how he was always right - so bad. It made her skin scramble how infuriating he was.
She didn’t answer right away and stared at him, arms crossed on her chest a little bit tighter to protect herself. Everything that was happening was only making her angrier towards him. He had ruined everything, and he had just decided to continue on doing so.
She had dreamt about him coming home for months and months, to have him by her side and now, she could only wish for him to go away. The anger, the pain, the animosity; it was all too much. She couldn’t keep up anymore.
“What do you want me to tell you, huh? How much of a great boyfriend and man he was, but that it still wasn’t enough? How much a horrible person I am for not being able to fall in love with a person that would devote his own life to try and make me happy?”
Jake opened his mouth to respond, but closed it as the words sank in. It all made sense to him suddenly. Why she seemed to be relieved it was all over. Why she didn’t call him after he broke her heart. Why, on the rare occasion he had discussed the break-up with his sisters, they had never talked badly about her ex-boyfriend. He didn’t break her heart. He never did.
She was the one breaking his.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, this time his voice much softer.
How could she? When it all started with his accident - that she wasn’t even supposed to know of. When it took her five years of a stable relationship to realize her longtime boyfriend had never have been the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. When it took her half of her adult life to understand she had been lying to herself for almost all her life and that even now, she didn’t know her truth from her lies any more.
Knowing the truth, Jake didn’t know what to say. He wanted to feel sorry, he wanted to tell her he was. But was he really? It would be lying to say he didn’t exult when he had heard of the break-up... On the day she introduced him to Nick, they he had discussed - quite vividly - about the country actions in Afghanistan - one of the campaigns he had just come home from - and from that day, Jake had just decided he wouldn’t like the man. He hadn’t been very subtle about disliking him, but in his opinion, Nick had paid him back in his own coin: monopolizing Y/N whenever Jake had her on the phone, making her choose between the two of them when he had had the opportunity to fly her oversea. He still felt nauseous to recall how Y/N had seemed to only look at him every time Nick was in the room with them.
He made a few steps in her direction, going to comfort her, but Y/N only shook her head. She wouldn’t let any of this go so easily. It wasn’t because she had confided in him, that he now knew all the truth from her part, that everything else would be forgotten. There were still a lot of unspoken truth to uncover.
“Why are you really here, Jake?”
“What do you mean?”
“The reason you got this leave, what is it?”
They stood less than a metre away, eyes in eyes. Jake never felt so vulnerable as every time she looked at him as if she could read his soul. He knew she was looking for something. Something he couldn’t give her.
Looking away, he answered, “It’s nothing.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Y/N slipped away before he could even react. He watched as she turned back towards the front door. She opened it without a word and looked into his eyes as she stood leaned against it.
“Goodbye, Jake.”
And this time, he didn’t even try to fight.
Javy: Hey, got Hangman on the phone today. You okay?
Y/N: Did he vent at you for calling me that one time?
Javy: Almost.
Javy: He wasn’t really angry though. Just frustrated I guess.
Y/N: I bet. Wasn’t really the nice little break he must have planned.
Javy: If there is anything to learn from all this it is that truth is better spoken from the person they apply to.
Javy: You should talk to him.
Y/N: Yeah well I’ll see about that.
Jake was very nervous, and he wasn’t very nervous a lot.
In fact, he was pretty sure the last time he was that nervous was when he had picked Y/N up for their senior prom. Just like every year since starting high school, she had been his date - though Chad nearly had taken her away from him, but this dumbass had broken up with her only a couple of weeks before prom. That year, for some reason, everything felt different. High school years were coming to an end, they were both going to different universities. Everything was about to change, and it would never be the same. Jake had dreaded taking their relationship to the next level. If only he had known that despite going to different universities, Jake enrolling and basically the two of them living their life in parallel, their relationship had made it.
More or less so... It had been three days now since the lunch at her parents, two since their other discussion - if he would call this an argument, he was still unsure - and today was the first time he was seeing her since then.
After spending time with his family, he was on his way to meet with some of their childhood friends. Normally, Y/N was one of them and she had been invited. But with the recent events, he didn’t know if she would be here. He had had time to reflect on what had been said and finally had apologized to her voice mail as she wouldn’t let his calls through. He had given her plenty of time and space, sending in only a couple of good mornings and good nights texts, just like he was used to. Yet he didn’t know what to expect.
When he spotted her already sat at the table he had booked, his heart started pounding furiously. It gave him hope not everything between them had been broken.
“Hey,” Jake greeted Y/N softly when he had gotten at her level.
Y/N only nodded, barely looking at him, before continuing her discussion with their friend, Monica, like nothing had happened. Jake swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing to greet everyone around the table.
In all those diners they had had with their friends when he had been home, she would have been sat next to him, so close but merely touching. He would have had his arm resting nonchalantly on the back of her chair. He would have whispered all sorts of things in her ears, and she would have laughed open light-heartedly at every single one of his jokes.
That night, she was sat as far as possible from him and he had difficulty focusing on the group discussion, his mind going back to her every time. He probably went the whole evening looking at her not so subtly in the hope she would like to give him a look. She did not.
“You good?” Matt, sat at his side, asked him after the main course.
“Yeah,” Jake answered though the little tremor in his voice didn’t reflect confidence.
“Just give her a little time. It’s just a lot, y’know.”
Jake only nodded.
The problem was indeed just that: time. His flight back was in two days now and she was supposed to be his ride. He knew she would be able to drop him off without speaking a word, while he sat there in the agonizing silence. He was sure he was not able to do it for a couple of hours, he couldn’t imagine what it would be to not have her speak to him every again. He couldn’t get back to combat with Y/N still mad at him. He needed to fix things. He had been able to do it with his sisters; he had to do it with Y/N.
Indeed, the lunch had finished soon after Y/N’s dramatic departure. His sisters hadn’t spoken another word to him, and Y/N’s parents had tried to maintain some semblance of a conversation. Jake had taken a quick walk to clear his mind before going to his parents.
He had sat down with Olivia first and then Sophia, so they could tell him everything that had been going on. He sat there listening to what they had to say until they were done. There had been a lot of crying on their side (only a tiny little bit on his side - most likely because he had a dust in the eye, he would say). In the end, they had hugged and laughed and remembered that they loved each other and that nothing could be more important than that.
He had realized Olivia seemed much more at peace, somehow differently but also similarly to Y/N’s. She had so many plans on her side - buying a house, planning a trip to Europe, getting a puppy – as if she had just discovered she could be a unique person outside her marriage and she genuinely was happier.
The talk with Sophia had been a little bit more sensitive. The idea of her enrolling made his blood boiling, but he had remained calm – or at least tried to - and listened to her reasons. If he was afraid to see himself in her, her reasons were solely different than his. She didn’t want this only to do like him; it was more that he had paved the way for her. He had made her promise to think some more about it - at least, graduate from college before deciding anything - and he had promised to be supportive. He would have some work on himself, but he would cross that bridge when he’d get there.
They had of course talked about Y/N and how she was carrying the whole family on her shoulders. She always made sure everyone was alright, answering her phone at 3 a.m. to pick up Sophia from a frat party gone wild, welcoming Olivia in her tiny apartment - giving her the only bed to sleep on the couch, despite her protest - the time she turned things round after Mark and she had decided to take some time apart. She even made sure their mother was alright when his step-dad was away for business, bringing her homemade meals that she only had to heat up and keeping her company.
If he always knew what an amazingly caring person she was, it only proved him right. He would be forever grateful she was the first person to have talked to him on his first day of kindergarten. He would be forever grateful for the woman she was. If he was honest with himself, it all made him love her even more.
He wasn’t ready to watch her from afar - well, from much far away than his current position - but he would do it (or at least try), should she ask him to…
After what seemed to be an eternity, the evening finally came to an end.
Jake didn’t get the opportunity to speak to Y/N though he hesitated multiple times to just call her out or walk to her and demand that they had a chat. She was currently bidding goodbye to everyone in front of the restaurant, and Jake was watching her attentively to ambush her just as soon as she was finished. He didn’t care if he would be rude to anyone by not saying thank you for coming and goodbye; he needed to talk to her.
After she hugged Monica and promised to let her know when she got home safely, she reached for her car key in her bag and made her way to her car without even looking at him. Jake took his luck and followed her. He called after her, but she refused to acknowledge him.
“Can we not?”
“Why?” she turned around suddenly. “Want me to tell you anything else?”
“Y/N, please.”
She only raised an eyebrow before turning back and continuing walking. Too bad for her, Jake wasn’t one to give up this easily. He followed her lead up to her car that she started to unlock to get in. A wave of panic got through him as he could feel her slip away from his fingers and he didn’t want that. If they didn’t have this talk now, he was not sure they would have it at all.
“I only have two days left,” he said, interposing himself between the closed door and her. “Please.”
Y/N froze at only a few centimetres away from him. She seemed to think about what options she had. Unfortunately for her, there just wasn’t much as she couldn’t make Jake move even if she wanted to. So, she chose the reasonable choice. She crossed her arms over her chest and listened.
“I-” he sighed, passing a hand on his face, frustration clearly visible on his face now. “There has been an incident. We lost two men.”
Y/N’s arms immediately dropped to her side; the mask she wore on her face cracked. She could have been angry he lied to her, yet again, but this time, it was too serious. People died. The command had given them time off because of it. It only reminded her it could end at any time. She really could lose him.
“Jake,” she sighed.
“I-”
His voice broke and Y/N didn’t hesitate to go in for a hug. Out of habits, his arms found her waist and he buried his face in her hair. He breathed her perfume in, trying to ground himself and not totally lose it. She was his rock. There were no ways he would still be here if it wasn’t for her waiting for him at home.
He couldn’t lose her.
“I can only imagine the worry I cause you all,” he muttered in her hair. “I didn’t want to add anything to it.”
Y/N grabbed his face with both her hands and forced him to look at her. She wore a small frown on her eyebrows and determination in her eyes. While she was touched he wanted to spare their feelings, not knowing what was going on was even worse. She couldn’t count the number of times she had thought he was dead when an unknown number had called her phone. In order to support him the best way they could, they needed to know.
“Getting you back in one piece is our priority,” she started, voice bold as if she wanted him to engrave her words in his head. “That’s why we are keeping things to ourselves. We don’t want you to worry about us when you should be solely focused on staying alive.”
Jake half-smiled in return, which made Y/N relax a bit. Her hands fall on his shoulder as he kept her close to him, so close that there was no space between their two bodies. They had realized they wanted the exact same thing for one another: for them to be safe and sound.
“I worry about you all, all the time. I worry about you, all the time,” he confessed, his voice still low.
Jake reached out to tuck a loose string of hair behind her ear and Y/N instinctively leaned in his touch. It was like this between them, easy and pure. It always had. Sometimes - like these last past days, they were so caught up in life they seemed to forget what they had was so unique. Every time they had found their way back to each other.
“I left you alone while I am off, living my dream.”
“Don’t say it like you could have made any other choice, Jake.”
“I don’t regret it,” he answered right back. “Yet if I had to do it all over again, there are a lot of things about you that I would do a whole lot differently.”
Y/N nodded slowly, her heart rate slightly going up. If they often shared I-love-you’s more out of habits than anything else - though they were always genuine, Jake had never really expressed out loud how he felt about her, and from the electricity in the air - totally different from the explosive tension that had built up until now, she could feel there were more to it.
“It’s never too late, they say,” he smiled softly, his hand making it to the back of her neck.
Y/N hold her breath, searching in his eyes if he was being serious and if he was really wanting to finish the conversation they had started the night of their senior prom. If he wanted to do it right here, right now in a parking lot. It was a conversation that could have totally changed their life if they had it. A conversation for which they every so often imagined what they would have said if fear hadn’t stopped them.
If there were much younger back then, nothing now had changed at all.
“I’ve always been yours,” Y/N whispered. It would be lying if relief hadn’t wash over Jake. Of course he had known - he had always known - yet, hearing it was another thing.
“I know.”
Y/N’s bright eyes saw his eyes dove down to her lips, only a dozen of centimetres away she realized now, then back to her eyes. Her cheeks were burning up from the anticipation of what was to come. Yet, lost in each other’s eyes, none of them moved.
At that moment, the world could have stopped that they wouldn’t have noticed. Nothing else but them mattered.
“Well, kiss me then.”
#jake hangman fic#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman x you#jake hangman imagine#hangman x reader#hangman fanfiction#hangman fic#top gun hangman#top gun maverick fic#tgm fic#tgm fanfiction#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin x you#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin fic#hangman top gun#jake seresin imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun maverick x reader#top gun maverick fandom#top gun fanfiction#top gun fic#top gun x reader#top gun x you#top gun x y/n#lea's writing#hangman imagine
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Hello!! I love your work so much ❤🥰. I wanted to know if I could request something with Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia? Something fluffy, loving with him?
Thank you so much ❤🥰
Dr Cupid.
Synopsis - Mickey Garcia passes out in hospitals. Luckily, this time there's a pretty nurse there to catch him.
Pairing - Mickey Garcia x Nurse!Reader
Warnings - a little cursing, a lot of tooth rotting fluff. mentions of blood and hospitals.
Age Rating - 16+
Word Count - 1.5k
Author's Note - thank you for this request!! i love mickey so much. i've been a HUGE danny ramirez fan for years, so i was so excited when he was cast in top gun, and mickey did not disappoint. an angel <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
You pull back the crinkly blue curtain with a bit too much force, startling the man sat on the edge of the bed.
"Sorry!" you apologise, closing it behind you. "These things are always lighter than I think they're going to be."
"It's alright, ma'am. No worries."
He's handsome. Really handsome. Big blue eyes, golden blonde hair, an air about him that exudes intelligence and compassion. You smile at him gently before retrieving his chart, giving it a once over quickly.
"Lieutenant Robert Floyd. United States Navy."
He introduces himself, shaking your hand formally. You tell him your name, and he repeats it carefully.
"Pretty name."
"Thank you, Lieutenant."
"Please, call me Bob."
"Thank you, Bob."
He smiles at you bashfully, nodding his head.
"So, Bob, what seems to be the problem today?"
"Training exercise gone wrong. I'm clumsy. You can probably tell by my medical history."
You look over the chart, and laugh softly.
"So you are. What happened this time?"
"It's just a little cut, on my shoulder. I fell onto it, onto the tarmac. I told everyone I didn't need to see a doctor, but they insisted."
"Well luckily for you, I'm a nurse," you wink, chuckling when he blushes. "Let's get this shirt off you so I can take a look. You mind if I cut it?"
"Go ahead."
You cut a line clean down the middle of his t shirt, an old, grey thing. It falls off of him, allowing you to see his shoulder wound.
Just as you're about to explain your next steps, the curtain flies open, a man in a flight suit rushing in.
"Sir, can I help you?"
"He's with me. He's in my squad," Bob reassures you. "Fanboy, you don't have to be here."
"I want to be."
"Fanboy?" you ask, confused about the unusual name.
"It's my call sign. We're pilots. US Navy."
"Why didn't I know they had pilots in the navy? I thought that was the air force."
Fanboy grins at you, all gleaming white teeth, before holding his hand out for you to shake.
"Lieutenant Mickey Garcia. Weapons Systems Officer."
You tell him your name, followed by 'nurse', which makes them both laugh.
"Well, Mickey, if you take a seat, I'll patch up Bob here and you can both get back to flying your jet planes."
Mickey steps around you, eyes darting over Bob as he goes. He catches sight of his bleeding shoulder, and all the colour drains from him.
You've seen this before.
He goes pale, and then wobbles on his feet. You stride over and wrap your arms around him, catching him as he passes out.
"Shit," Bob swears. "I'd help, ma'am, but I'm a little out of commission right now."
"It's alright," you chuckle. "This happens a lot. I'm stronger than I look."
You manage to walk Mickey backwards, sitting him in the chair that you originally sent him towards. You cradle his face in your hands, holding up his head. His eyes flutter open, straight onto you.
"Did I die? Is this heaven?" he whispers.
Both you and Bob try not to laugh as you check him over.
"I'm afraid not, Lieutenant. You're in the hospital, visiting Bob. He's hurt his shoulder. Remember?"
"Yeah, I remember," he murmurs, embarrassed.
You grab him a cup of water, placing it into his hand carefully.
"You okay?"
His big brown eyes are locked on you, not leaving for a minute. He's beautiful, you realise suddenly. Yes, Bob is handsome, but Mickey is beautiful.
"I get a little weird around blood."
"You're telling me."
The smile he gives you is enough to move mountains.
"Okay, Garcia, listen up. You're gonna sit here and drink your water. Take big, slow, deep breaths. And do not, under any circumstances, look at Bob, okay? Keep your eyes on me, no matter what."
"Yes ma'am."
You leave him in his chair, returning your attention to the blonde. You take a good look at the wound, and decide it'll need a couple of stitches.
"I'm gonna clean this up for you, and sew it shut. I'm sure you'll heal fast, being a healthy pilot and all."
You glance over at Mickey, and see that he's still watching you. Gazing at you like you hung the stars in the sky.
"Bob, I won't lie to you. This is going to hurt. Feel free to hold onto me if you need to."
You numb his shoulder, before getting to work stitching it up. You flick your eyes to Mickey intermittently, smiling gently when his stare meets yours.
"Garcia, did you bring any spare clothes? I had to cut Bob's shirt off. I doubt he wants to walk out of here shirtless."
"Yeah, Phoenix has a bag in the waiting room. I'll go and grab it."
You watch him carefully as he stands, making sure he doesn't pass out again. He leaves, and Bob grins at you.
"He likes you."
"Everyone likes me, Bob. I'm a good nurse."
"No, he likes you. That's the quietest I've ever heard him sit. And he took your orders. He doesn't do that for anyone."
You shake your head, smiling as you do it.
"Are you single?"
"Very forward, Lieutenant."
"For him, not for me! You're beautiful," he justifies, "but I'm sort of dating my copilot."
"Sort of?"
"It's complicated."
"Then make it uncomplicated, Bob."
He thinks for a moment, before nodding.
"You're right. I'm going to talk to her."
Mickey comes barging back in with a t shirt in hand.
"Phoenix packed you an overnight bag, just in case. She says this is your shirt anyway."
You look at Bob and wink, chuckling when he blushes.
"Anything else, ma'am?"
"That's all. You've been a perfect patient Bob," you say, squeezing his other shoulder. "If you go to the desk, they'll give you some spare dressings for when you need to change it. Besides that, just take care of yourself, okay?"
"Okay. Understood. Thank you, for everything. I appreciate it."
The two of them leave in a flurry of thanks, Mickey casting a longing glance back at you. You can hear them bickering on the other side of the curtain.
"Fine!" you hear Mickey say, before he reappears.
"Uh... hi."
"You forget something?" you ask, looking around the bed.
"Yeah. To ask you out."
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, corners of your lips twitching.
"And to apologise. For before. Passing out, and all. I, uh-"
He scratches the back of his neck nervously before perching on the edge of the bed. You move to sit next to him, leg pressing into his.
"I practically grew up in a hospital. My Dad wasn't a nice guy, so my Mom was here all the time."
You lace your fingers with his, resting them on your thigh.
"I used to try and clean up her injuries at home the best I could, but sometimes it wasn't enough. He finally left when I was thirteen, and I didn't have to play doctor anymore."
He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
"Now, as an adult, I have this crazy reaction to blood. Even just a papercut is enough to have me hyperventilating. I guess I saw so much of it when I was a kid, that I can't handle it now?"
He looks at you expectantly, unsure of what you'll say.
"It's way more common than you think, you know. I have people pass out on me all the time. You're not alone, I promise."
He smiles at you softly, and you're convinced you've never met someone more beautiful.
"I have a friend who works on the fourth floor. She's a psychiatrist - which I know people roll their eyes at, especially men - but, she's really great to talk to. About anything. She can help with phobias. I've seen her do it."
He nods almost imperceptibly.
"I mean... it can't hurt to talk to her, right? Just once?"
"Exactly. I can give you her number, you can give her a call whenever suits you."
He nudges your shoulder with his, your hands still linked.
"Thank you. Bob doesn't love hospitals either, but you really set his mind at ease today."
"Just doing my job."
"Trust me, you're doing a hell of a lot more."
You feel the heat rise up your chest, praying he can't hear how fast your heart is beating.
"I know you probably work crazy shifts here, but... would you like to go for dinner sometime? I'd love to get to know you in a less... uh... clinical setting."
You grin at him, squeezing his hand tightly.
"I'd love to. As long as you promise not to pass out," you wink.
"That is a promise I cannot make."
You laugh with him, shaking your head.
"I should get back to work. God knows this place needs me."
"Of course. Do your thing, SuperNurse."
You lean over and press a kiss to his cheek, handing him a card with your number on.
"Call me."
"What time do you get off?"
"7."
"I'll call you at 7:01."
"Deal," you laugh, pulling the curtains back.
You watch as he leaves to join Bob and a woman you assume is Phoenix in the waiting area. You wave at Mickey as you go, the other two pilots looking between you with knowing grins on their faces.
#mickey garcia fluff#mickey garcia#mickey garcia x reader#mickey garcia x you#mickey garcia x reader fluff#mickey garcia x y/n#fanboy#fanboy top gun#mickey fanboy garcia#top gun fanboy#fanboy x reader#mickey garcia smut#top gun maverick imagine#top gun maverick#tgm fic#top gun maverick x reader#top gun maverick fluff#danny ramirez#mickey garcia imagine#mickey garcia fic
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Operation Apollo | 2.9 | Jake Seresin x Reader
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Synopsis: After a threat is made against her life, the President’s grown up daughter gets her security tripled. Her long term detail is about to retire and needs replacing, only — she isn’t the easiest to work with. Ex-Navy and current Secret Service, Jake Seresin is devoted to being the best at everything he does. He isn’t going to let a bratty little girl cost him this job.
Warnings: age gap, power imbalance, enemies to lovers, danger and angst, manipulation, sucky parents, grief and manipulation, lying, distressing themes throughout but especially towards the end of the chapter. Graphic violence, dangerous situations, revenge, wc: 3.5k
…
Jake doesn’t sleep well anymore. This seems to be a settled fact. From the day that Dani died, he just doesn’t rest like he used to. When he was with you, things got better, for a bit. They’re bad again now.
Now, he spends his nights tossing and turning and wandering to the bathroom of his hotel room to splash water on his face to remind himself that his nightmares aren’t real. It’s been two days since he heard your voice, and growing harder to convince himself of reality.
Allen promised to check in in the morning. It’s technically morning now, as the breaching sun threatens the skyline. Morning. It’s too fucking vague. Dawn and 11:59 leaves Jake a lot of time to pace the San Diego shore.
Nothing settles him these days.
He leans his palms forwards on the bathroom counter, and cocks his head to the side. His therapist had once told him that it wasn’t helpful to try to remember the day Dani had died. It always ate at him that he couldn’t really remember receiving the news. He remembered the before, and god, he wishes he didn’t remember the after — but he could never remember hearing the news for the first time.
He remembers the abruptness of it all.
Convincing himself that her voice was still fresh in his mind in the evenings was the only way he could keep her alive. It hadn’t worked much. He doesn’t think of her in the evenings much anymore, and she’s still dead.
When your voice echoed in his ear a few minutes ago, it’s the first thing he thought of — that her voice outlived her.
The cold water drips down his chin, saturating days old stubble, falling in thin droplets onto his naked chest. His eyes are narrowed, smaller than normal and heavy with sleep. His shoulders are hunched. His skin looks barren without the trace of your touch.
His bed is unmade and the sheets are wrinkled from the sleepless night he’s leaving behind. He inhales deeply and considers just taking a shower and starting his day before the morning sun.
Then, his night-morning medley is interrupted. Three calm knocks on the door. He closes his eyes, shutting out his reflection and the fluorescent noise of the bathroom, and tries to reason with himself.
Two further knocks confirm to him that the sound is real. It’s not part of another one of his bad dreams.
Jake walks barefooted out of the bathroom, and leans up to the peephole. He’s unsure, really, of who he is expecting to see outside of the door at five in the morning, but the sight of two secret service agents standing there makes his blood run cold and his mind fill with thoughts of the first woman that he loved.
Though he can’t remember that day, he knows it was less of a formal affair. He can’t take more bad news. He pulls back the chain and turns the lock with little thought about what they could be there for, not wanting to let his mind linger on the worst possibility.
“Agent Seresin,” The taller one says, his thin lips stretching into a tighter line as he looks the man before him up and down. If Jake had been sleeping better, maybe he would have gotten dressed before answering the door. The morning air chills his bare chest and thighs, his underwear doing little in terms of providing warmth. “You’ll have to come with us, sir.”
Sir. The word makes the hair at the back of Jake’s neck prickle, and his stomach tighten. Sir, please calm down. He remembers hearing that on the day Dani died.
“Where is she?” Jake asks.
“We can’t say.” The shorter, dark-haired one won’t meet Jake’s gaze. That’s good. They would have told him if you were dead. “But we need you to come with us. Now.”
The entire West Coast network is abuzz as Jake is driven up to the house in the hills. As the count ticks over into seventeen hours since you were last seen, and four hours since that video was received, everybody who is anybody is working on your disappearance.
Allen was the first to report it yesterday. You had been gone for two hours already by the time he came to check on you, and found Jake’s bed empty. It’s his fault. He had assumed you were finally sleeping, and he had waited too long to check on you.
By the time he realised, you could have already been out of the country for all he knew. His experience in this field told him a lot of things — not a single one of them reassuring.
He first alerted the West Coast liaison. After confirming there were no active hits on your location in a six mile radius of the house, things went nationwide. He considered calling Jake then, but there were too many eyes on him to sneak a call.
Once nationwide, your parents had been alerted. Matthew landed on a private airstrip just after midnight, thirty-five minutes before the video footage was received. A dark, grainy two-minute long video with no timestamp.
The first thirty seconds is almost silent. The camera is focused, unmoving on your face. You’re staring at something above the lens, the man behind it, with pure venom in your eyes. You’re already hurt, bleeding from your nose and your hairline, your eye sore looking and swollen.
From the second that the voice first rings out, Matthew recognises exactly who it is. It’s the first question they ask of him — if he knows who could have wanted to hurt you. The answer is more complicated, because it’s not that Ellis would have wanted to hurt you specifically. Ellis would have wanted to hurt Matthew.
But, Ellis hurts all kinds of people every day, for reasons that span far beyond simple dislike. It’s why the debt between the two of them is something far beyond what money can settle.
The instructions on the video are clear.
Shadows dance across cracked concrete walls, the lone lightbulb wobbles on its wire above your head. Your wrists itch and burn, your arms stiff and your neck aching. You lost the feeling in your legs a while ago. The blood from your nose has dried around your mouth and chin, your eye has started to swell. Your head throbs.
You have been alone for two hours.
Occasionally, someone will pass by the door. No one seems to care much about checking on you. As the hours have dragged on, you’ve stopped moving so much. Getting out of your restraints is decidedly impossible. Your eyelids feel heavier and heavier with each slow blink.
“Don’t fall asleep.”
Your eyelids flutter, your vision blurred and unsteady as you search the shadows of the room for the voice. For his voice; Jake’s voice. Even like this, you know what he sounds like.
“Come on, honey,” Fingers brush across your hair, soft, unbothered by the blood crusted into your hairline. “Keep your eyes open. I know it hurts.”
It does hurt. You’ve never hurt like this before. Wrapped in bubble-wrap, hidden behind thick walls and tall fences — maybe if they hadn’t kept you so safe, it wouldn’t all hurt so bad now.
“Jake?” Your throat is dry, your voice is hoarse, the rag cuts into the corners of your lips.
“I’m here.” He isn’t, and the realisation makes you want to cry. You can pretend he’s here, and pretend he’s telling you to fight all you want. He isn’t here, and you’re tired.
Ellis’ terms have been circling your mind for all of the hours you have been alone. You, for her. Your father, in exchange for you, as to be delivered by Jake.
The government would never let it happen. Jake would never let it go. Your heavy eyelids droop shut and you leave them that way.
When they’re closed, you’re not here either. You’re at home, and in Jake’s bed. Your cheek is on his chest and he’s asleep, you rise and fall with each one of his breaths, your fingers smooth across the heart-shaped, thumb-sized birthmark on his hip.
The morning sun is shining, the bedroom walls are white and the mattress is soft. Jake’s right arm is draped around your shoulders, cradling you to his chest. There, it’s safe to fall asleep.
A little after nine, the bright sunlight spills into the living room. Another sunny morning, like the world hadn’t been turned upside down overnight. Jake has never felt quite so out of place in this house. It feels colder without you here. He stares at the dark, blank screen in front of him, sick to his stomach.
Your picture is gone, but the image is burned in his mind. Your bloodied, bruised face staring right at the lens, your lips pressed into line, adamantly refusing to speak. God, just speak. Do what they tell you to do. Please.
Slowly, he leans forwards and hits the button to replay the video. It’s his fourth time watching it, now. There it is again, your tear-filled eyes and the stubborn scowl on your exhausted face, the long fingers curled around your chin, angling your face towards the lens.
Jake has been filled in with some need-to-know information. Ellis Armstrong was an associate, and informant and a business partner of Matthew’s from before the elections. He’s a bad, bad man.
Outside of the need to know — Matthew is the only one who really knows the extent of what this guy will do, of what he has done on behalf of Matthew himself in the past. Of how far this debt reaches.
Matthew, I know that you’re far too much of a coward to face me in person. You have done an excellent job of avoiding me so far. How lucky I was that your clever little girl sought me out.
Jake turns his head. He studies the skulking man in the corner of the room, his head turned toward the ground and his fingers trembling as his hands wring together in front of him.
Things hadn’t ever seemed this serious back then. At the start of it all, it was just a little maintenance, making a little indiscretion disappear. Then, the favours had gotten bigger — and then they had stopped being favours at all.
Jake and Matthew are far from alone in this living room. They’re surrounded by agents with years of combined experience, government advisors and White House big-wigs. And yet, Jake is the only one that Matthew can’t bring himself to look at.
I know you won’t come to me yourself. That’s why she’s so perfect. We’ve all seen the news. If you won’t come to me yourself, the bodyguard will bring you to me. You, for her.
Apparently the message was supposed to reach Jake privately, which is why he was intercepted. He sits with the thought for a moment as he stares down the man who raised you; he would trade him in to keep you safe in a heartbeat.
That’s why the first point of call was to bring him here. Here, they have an eye on him. They can’t risk him trying anything stupid.
You have twenty-four hours to reach the location provided. Say goodbye, sweetheart. The faceless fingers curl into the hollows of your cheeks and Jake grits his teeth. His gaze flickers up, and this time Matthew is watching him.
“You’re going.” Jake tells him, from the spot on the couch where he had kissed you for the first time. Everything had unfurled here, in this house, up until Jake had taken you home.
It’s a shell of a home and it always was. Cold and white, almost clinical in its modernity. It’s the place you met but it’s not your home, and it’s not Jake’s. He just decided that. The two of you will have a real home.
His gaze is a cold green, steely and serious. There’s a movement around the room, uncomfortable murmurs of disagreement as the crowd prepares to stop the bodyguard. “This is your fault. You didn’t protect her, and she’s in danger. You’re going to fix this.”
“No, Agent, that’s not how we’re going to—” The serious looking man in the Armani suit, who considers himself responsible for Matthew’s safety here, doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence.
“I’m done with the plans.” Jake decides, pushing himself up from the couch. He makes no efforts to step towards the president, this isn’t a threatening motion, it’s merely a man who won’t stand back idly once again. He gives a cool shake of his head. “The plans are what got us here. You… deserve this. You fucking owe her this.”
Matthew swallows dryly, loosening his tie.
“Jake,” Allen steps up from his perch by the wall, giving a soft shake of his head as he reaches out to rest a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “We’ve got to keep our heads about this.”
It’s not a sudden thing, that the attitude in the room is that Jake is the crazy one here, but the mood shifts nonetheless as he rounds on the older man and points a finger squarely at him.
”Don’t. Don’t say a damn word to me — where were you?” he spits.
“I… she promised me—” Allen shakes his head dumbly, blaming himself more for this than your own father does. He’s blind with worry, that image of your bloodied face just won’t leave his mind.
“You promised me.” Jake bites.
Silence falls across the room for a beat. Manny wipes his nose with the back of his hand, squeezing his eyes shut as tears spill silently down his cheeks.
When he had gotten into this business, he had first felt invincible. A background in Tactical Ops and a pristine track record, he told everyone that he was perfect for the job. Then, he had met you and he had realised quickly he was out of his depth — but he liked you, and you reminded him that there was more to this line of work than the rules.
He hadn’t ever thought he would let you down like this.
“I’ll go.”
Jake turns his head. He isn’t impressed. He isn’t pleased. It’s barely enough, after what he has put you through. Looking at Jake, your father knows that.
“Mr. President—“
“Those were his terms,” His eyes are shut now. He can’t bare to look at the man before him, knowing that this wouldn’t be a difficult decision for him to make in the slightest. Jake would put his life on the line for you without thought. He shivers through an inhale, “We come up with a plan around them, and we get her out of there.”
“But, sir—“
“Figure it out. You can keep both of us safe. That’s your job.” Matthew exhales finally. Opening his eyes, he finds Jake once more and finds himself chilled to the core. The look on Jake’s face is finally, wholly sincere. If it came down to it, Jake wouldn’t give a fuck about keeping Matthew safe.
“Sir—“
“Figure it out, god damnit, or I’ll take myself.” Matthew bites out finally. It’s not like he has much of a choice in walking away from this, anyway.
When Jake closes his eyes, and thinks of you afraid and alone, it makes his choice easy.
Matthew feels like a clock within him has started ticking. As the men and women around him scramble to draw together a plan that will keep him and his daughter alive, he feels it counting down his last moments.
He tries not to look up, because when he does he finds Jake looking at him every time.
It’s like Jake can hear it too, that awful ticking. Time passing by. Counting down the moments.
“Catherine?” Matthew calls weakly, rubbing two fingers against his temple from his spot in the corner of the living room. His secretary turns attentively and graces him with her full attention. “I’d like to make a statement, and I’d like you to write it down. Do you understand?”
Jake can’t sit and listen to them anymore, but that’s not what makes go wandering. He starts out in the kitchen, looking out over the pool. The place he had first seen you. Then, he takes the stairs and winds up in his room. His bed is unmade here, as it was in his hotel.
His shoes are quiet against the floor as he walks over to the bed and lowers himself to the edge of it. His fingers smooth over the faint dips in the pillow, where your head had last laid.
Jake has money from his time in the Navy. From his work in the service. He hasn’t had much to spend it on. The job involves living with clients, expenses are usually covered, and his sisters won’t let him spoil his nieces too much. Enough for a house. One with a big bed, so you can stretch out all you want and still wind up draped across his chest.
The thought almost makes him smile, and then a lump in his throat threatens to make that smile spill into tears.
He hopes he gets that.
He can only imagine what you’re doing now. If you’re still stuck to that chair, if your eye is hurting you, if they have touched you again since. He’s not even sure if you have water. The one thing he does know is that you’ll be waiting for him. You’ll know that he’ll get you out of this.
A little after noon, the plan is as good as it is going to get. Twenty four hours since your disappearance, sixteen hours until Ellis’ imposed deadline.
Jake stands with his back to the front door as the President listens to the briefing once more. There are back-up plans on backup plans and protocols coming out of his ears, and Jake doesn’t care one bit.
Allen doesn’t like the look on his face.
“Jake,” The older man broaches the topic softly, trying not to alarm the already flighty ex-pilot. “I know you’re going to do what you need to do. I can’t stop you. But, if this goes south — and you’re responsible, you’ll never see her again.”
Jake knows what he’s trying to say. If he lets the President go, he’ll suffer the consequences. As much as he wants that house, and those lazy mornings in that big bed with you, he would let it all go if he could know that you would never be in danger because of this man again.
“I know the plan.” Jake tells him calmly.
Ellis isn’t an unintelligent man; he knows that if Jake was going to be able to deliver Matthew successfully, it wouldn’t be alone. That makes things a little easier — they don’t have to be as sneaky.
But, if Ellis has a feeling that the trade is a set up, they’ll both be dead. Jake won’t let that happen.
It’s just himself, and your father for the journey there. It’s two hours from your place, and there’s practically a motorcade escort most of the way. Once they hit the five mile out mark, security drops back, and for the first time — they feel alone.
“So, what did you actually do?” Jake squeezes his hands around the leather of the wheel, with no real interest in small talk. He shoots a look towards the cars in his peripheral, and then at each mirror. Last, comes his scope of the skyline. Habit. He was a good agent.
There’s no point lying anymore.
“You’ve got to understand, Ellis is a powerful man.”
“More powerful than the president?” Jake scoffs.
Matthew makes an uncomfortable sound of consideration. He wouldn’t expect Jake to understand.
“Having powerful friends makes him more powerful. You know?” He tries to explain it anyway, it beats listening to the silent radio and the tyres rolling. “I let him do me a lot of favors. Money, marketing, making people go away.”
He looks across and studies Matthew’s face for a moment.
“Not with money.” He realises, watching the stretch of road. There’s one turning, the only one Jake can see. That’s it.
Matthew looks ahead of him, colourless as he gives a weak shake of his head. “No. Not with money.”
It’s already in his head that your father is a scumbag, but it stings Matthew to realise that Jake isn’t surprised by this. It shouldn’t. He shouldn’t care about what someone like Jake thinks — and he supposes he wouldn’t, if it wasn’t for you.
“So what’d you do to him?” Jake prompts.
“I tried to get away.” Matthew says quietly. The wheels turn and the car pulls into an empty parking lot at the rear side of an old hangar. “Put some distance between the two of us — between him and my family, my career. It’s not the kind of thing he was willing to let go.”
“Go figure.” Jake answers bitterly. The car pulls to a stop and the ticking rings out loudly in Matthew’s ears. Jake turns his head, green eyes colder than ever. “You ready?”
…
tags: @alanadetigy @thedroneranger @momc95 @basicchelsea @perpetuelledaydreaming @cherrycola27 @eviesaurusrex @xoxabs88xox @desert-fern @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @khaylin27 @cowboybarbie @marchingicenotes7 @marantha @lgg5989 @herladyshipxx @chaoticweirdogeek @mak-32 @obiwankenobis-lap @diamond-3 @wolvesofthewinter @shawnsblue @itsmytimetoodream
#operation Apollo#Jake x Apollo#Jake Seresin#Jake hangman Seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#Jake Seresin au#Jake hangman Seresin x reader#Jake Seresin smut#top gun: maverick#tgm fic
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