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#Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x you
withahappyrefrain · 2 years
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Parking Spots and Matcha Lattes
Summary: In an attempt to get coffee, you meet a grade A asshole whose head you want to rip off. Meanwhile, Jake Seresin is pretty certain he just met his future wife in the parking lot of a coffee shop.
AKA Jake Seresin likes mean women, pass it on.
Shout-out to @p3mybeloved who isn't in the TGM fandom, but is the inspiration for this fic ♥️♥️
Part two is up! As is part 3!
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It hadn’t been just a long day. It had been a long week.
And it was only Tuesday.
You were exhausted from working after hours to meet critical deadlines. If Barbara from admin found one more thing to nitpick, you were going to lose it.
So you decided to get coffee. Could you have made some at home? Absolutely. But you needed something, just a little something to make your morning brighter. Something that would remind you there was some good in the world and help you get through the first two hours of your day.
Instead of hitting snooze on your alarm clock five times, you got up after hitting it twice. You even remembered to apply deodorant and swipe on mascara. You left five minutes before your alarm to leave went off. Five whole minutes. You were on track to get coffee and get to work in plenty of time. Things were going well.
Too well.
You should have known something was about to fuck up your day when you saw the perfect parking spot. When the hell did that even happen? Never, you should have just gone to the back of the lot.
Foolishly, you started making your way towards the spot, thinking of all the things you could do with the extra minutes you would receive from your soon to be princess parking.
Your car and body lurched forward as you slammed on the brakes in order to not run into the white Jeep Wrangler that sped out from around the corner.
The heart palpitations you were experiencing from the sudden, potentially life saving decision descended into anger as you watched the speed demon take not just your desired parking spot, but also the one right next to it due to parking at an angle.
You gripped the steering wheel as rage seethed through your body. Instead of an elderly lady who just shouldn’t be driving, a tall blonde man dressed in some type of military uniform got out of the car. He didn’t even check his horrendous excuse of a parking job, walking into the coffee shop without a care in the world.
What a fucking asshole.
Normally you’d just find another spot and try to move on.
Not today. Because today was supposed to be a good day and you had done everything in your power to ensure it would start off on the right foot and this douchecanoe just ruined it.
So you found a nearby parking spot, walked over to the eyesore of a car and waited. All the rage and anger built up into you, thinking about his horrendous parking job, as well as the bullshit of your job.
You didn't even wait for him to say anything before tearing into him. The fact he was blonde and conventionally attractive added to your anger because of course a real life Ken doll would think it's okay to park like that.
"Hey dickhead! Who the fuck do you think you are, parking like that?"
"What the-oh wow," his voice trailed off when he took in all of you, not that you noticed.
"Is that how you drive tanks in the army? Because if so, holy shit, our country is-”
He scoffed, “Sweetheart, please. I’m a Lieutenant pilot for the Navy. And one of the best ones at that.”
Whether it was the Texan drawl that dripped through his voice or how he expected you to fall to your knees by revealing this information, you rolled your eyes.
“Oh, so you can fly million dollar planes but can’t park without taking up two spaces?” You remarked. He seemed to be taken aback by your comment, which gave you the motivation to keep going.
“First off, who the hell drives through a parking lot at forty-five miles an hour?! There are kids-well teenagers-who walk through here! I know your car is obnoxious as your personality, but not all of us get an adrenaline thrill from having to slam on their fucking breaks so they don’t crash into you.”
You didn’t notice how his emerald eyes were wide and staring right at you. You were on a roll.
“In fact, you probably wouldn’t have had to park so offensively if you had fucking slowed down. Or, you could have had a shred of decency and repark. Don’t they teach that in the military? To have honor or some shit? Or were you too busy doing bicep curls at the gym that day?”
It was then you noticed that his eyes were wide, reminding you of those stupid disney princes your cousins used to fawn over as kids. The look he had on his face made it seem like he was in a far off place, it was almost…..dreamy?
“Hello?” You waved a hand in front of his chiseled face, “Are you even listening to me?”
“I’m trying, but your eyes are super distracting, has anyone ever told you that?”
It took your brain several seconds to process what he just said. Then you had to take another ten seconds to process that he wasn’t being cocky or a smartass when he said it. He was being genuine.
What the actual fuck?
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Jake Seresin woke up this morning, like any other day. He got up early so he could get coffee off base. The Starbucks they had on base was always overcrowded and bitter. Plus, it was nice to get off base for a little bit, get away from things and have a sense of normalcy.
He was not expecting to meet his future wife in the parking lot of a local coffee joint.
Nor was he expecting her to introduce herself by yelling at him.
But it was kinda perfect.
You were stunning, even though you assumed he was in the army, of all things (he’d let that one slide, you’ll learn eventually).
The passion in your eyes as you pointed out exactly what was wrong with his parking job was admirable, alluring, even enticing.
Jake couldn't lie, he'd thought you'd be impressed or at the very least, taken aback by his rank.
Instead, you steamrolled right past it, continuing to list what he had done wrong, taking stabs at him along the way.
It was hot.
You were making valid points. He didn't have to drive that fast, it wasn't like he was late.
But it was also extremely difficult to focus on what you were saying when those big bright eyes of yours were burning into him.
How could he focus on anything else?
So he was honest and told you so.
"What the fuck is your problem?!" You threw your hands up in exasperation.
That we aren't making out right now, is what Jake wanted to say. But his mother would smack him if she found out that's what he said to her future daughter-in-law during their first interaction.
"I have no problem darlin'. In fact, I'm pretty great. Got a matcha latte and have just met the most stunning girl in the world," he flashed that blindingly white smile, ready for you to ask for his number.
"You parked like that for a matcha latte? You couldn't have made me slam on my breaks for something that doesn't taste like dirt?" You spat.
Huh, normally that line worked. The fact it didn't was more exhilarating than nerve-wracking.
Jake honestly found it borderline erotic.
"I didn't realize I had met a parking and coffee expert," He preened, that award winning smile remaining on his face. He was curious, what could get you flustered?
You swore you could see red.
Oh, he was trying. Trying to knock you off balance. Trying to see if he could rattle you. It fueled you.
"I'm not an expert, it's called being a decent human being with common sense, you knockoff Ken doll." The lovesick look on his handsome face remained. If he was a cartoon, hearts would appear over his head.
Oh, you were perfect.
Outright asking for your number wouldn't work. Compliments were going right over your head. He had to change tactics.
He looked over at his parking job before facing you again, "Y'know, you're absolutely right. That was a shitty parking job."
Your eyes widened, surprised that this walking Crest Whitening Strips advertisement could admit he had done something wrong.
Jake continued, "And I'd love to learn more about how to park correctly from you…over dinner."
When you started ripping into him, you weren't exactly sure what to expect. Most likely an argument that would end with middle fingers thrown in the air as you both walked away.
Not him asking you out.
"You want me to continue yelling at you about your inability to park over dinner?" You asked. Perhaps the lack of oxygen he experienced from flying planes had affected his ability to think. Perhaps folks should study the effects his job had on the brain. Not that Congress would allow it (couldn't interfere with recruitment).
That stupidly white smile remained on his face, "I was also hoping I could learn more about you too."
Hesitation filled you. The officer (or whatever his rank was) was being genuine. His compliments didn't feel forced. It was just odd that after being yelled at for nearly ten minutes, the conclusion he came to was that he wanted to go on a date with you.
"Buy me coffee first." You challenged, crossing your arms over your chest as an attempt to come across as intimidating, despite how much taller the soldier was compared to you.
A smile broke out onto his face. Not a cocky one, but one that was soft and sweet.
It was almost endearing. Almost.
"Anything for you darlin'," he declared, sea green eyes sparkling, "I'm Jake by the way."
You didn't expect him to go through with it. Nor did you expect him to jog ahead so he could hold the door open for you.
A warm feeling began to flutter in your stomach, until you remembered his heinous parking skills. That warm sensation would transform into a quiet, bubbling rage.
"Hangman? The fuck kind of name is that?" You asked upon hearing him say it to the barista.
"It's my callsign darlin'," he explained, like it was the most obvious and sensible thing in the world.
"First off, my name is not darlin, I just told you it two minutes ago. Second, you are way too smug to be telling me how your callsign is after a children's recess game, Officer." You ignored the confused stare of the barista who handed you your drink.
"I didn't get it from the game and it's Lieutenant," he corrected, his voice the sharpest it had been since talking to you.
A nerve had been struck. Or so you thought.
You leaned forward, your cardigan brushing against the khaki shirt he wore.
"Learn how to park properly and maybe then I'll get your rank right, officer." You were quite proud of yourself for that one, considering he was actually silent for a few moments.
Meanwhile, Jake was doing everything in his power to not sport an erection in the middle of the coffee shop. Because holy shit, you were hot. It was ridiculous how your smirk almost made his knees buckle.
He wondered if you'd prefer an early summer or fall wedding. He had always envisioned getting married in late May. But the rust colored cardigan you had on perfectly complimented your complexion. You'd probably looked great in mustard too. But those colors were more appropriate for a fall wedding and not-
"Cat got your tongue? Or does the navy have their own expression?" Your voice broke Jake out of his thoughts.
He just smiled, shaking his head, "Just got distracted by how pretty you are. Gonna tell you now, I don't know if I'll be able to focus on parking standards during our date tonight. Might need a second one for review."
You rolled your eyes, "It's not a date it's…. actually I don't know what you call it when you are teaching a grown ass man how to properly park over dinner-"
"It's a date." The barista called out before turning around to work on the other orders. Heat rushed to your face as Jake slipped a five dollar bill into the tip jar.
"Whatever" you fumbled to get your phone out, pulling up a new contact, "just give me your number so I can text you the address of the restaurant."
He quirked an eyebrow, "You're picking the place?"
"You can't drive for shit and out of all the types of tea lattes you could drink, you go with matcha," you leaned in to look at the sticker on his cup, "with skim milk. The federal government may trust you with their jets, but like hell I'm gonna trust you to pick a restaurant."
Oh, he was definitely going to marry you. In his head, he already tried out pairing your first name with Seresin and it sounded heavenly.
He just grinned, his emerald eyes shining and you really wished he'd stopped doing that.
The scent of cedar wood flooded your nostrils as he leaned in, his face much closer to yours than it had been so far. Was he bending his knees to be at eye level with you?
Focus, you told yourself. He can't park for shit and got zero sweetener in his drink. Who the hell does that?
"I look forward to showing you on our date that I have great taste, as well as many talents that will have you overlooking my parking skills," his voice was low, dripping with a pathetic attempt of seduction that made you want to bang your head against the counter of the coffee bar.
"Type your phone number in before I throw my drink at you. I don't care if I get fined with 'defacing government property'." You all but shoved your phone into his chest, earning a chuckle from him that sent more heat to your body than rage.
"Anything for you, Venus." Did the obnoxiously bright smile ever go away?
"Y'know, you could have a really strong legal case for what all the lack of oxygen has done to your brain, like not being able to remember my name."
Jake shook his head, "Oh, I remember your name. Venus suits you better. Hottest planet, looks great in rust," he motioned to your cardigan, "Goddess of love and beauty. It's quite fitting for you."
This guy was unreal. The grip you had around your drink tightened, your bottom lip pushing forward to form an annoyed pout.
"I look forward to our date tonight, Venus," He said as he handed you back your phone, his long fingers brushing against yours.
Your eyes couldn't roll harder, "I look forward to serving my country by teaching you how to properly park, Hangnail."
"It's Hangman."
Now it was your turn to smirk, "Nah, Hangnail suits you better," your voice dropped, mocking his southern accent.
With that, you left the coffee shop. You had to, otherwise you were going to throw your drink at him.
You missed the downright lovesick smile that adorned Jake Sersin's face as he watched you walk out.
"Thanks for helping me meet my future wife y'all," He said to the very confused baristas.
"She looked like she wanted to murder you," one commented.
Jake laughed, shaking his head, "Don't worry. I'll win her over."
As you got in your car, a vibration from your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out, a message from an unknown number flashing on your screen.
Looking forward to our date tonight. Can't wait for your lesson Venus ;)
Oh that bastard. When the hell did he have time to send himself a text to get your number?
You shook your head despite the fact he couldn't see you.
A loud horn made you jump. You looked up from your phone to see the living embodiment of a Ken doll in his car that was now in the middle of the parking lot, right across from your car.
He waved. God, you wanted to wipe that smirk off his stupid face.
Instead, you rolled down your window.
"What the fuck are you doing?! You're going to block traffic!" You yelled.
"Text me your address Venus! I'll pick you up at seven!" He winked, driving away as he ignored your comment.
At least he wasn't speeding through the parking lot this time.
Maybe there was hope. Maybe. Doubtful. Probably not.
On the way back to base, Jake wondered if you'd prefer a silver or gold band for your engagement ring.
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@spidervee @sebsxphia @hangmanapologist @xbamboowishesx @rae-gar-targaryen @theharddeck @abibliophobiaa @mothdruid @stranger-nightmare @princessphilly
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rae-gar-targaryen · 1 year
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Why yes, your Honour, I would like to lick Jake Seresin’s abs. Each and every one of them. Trace them with my tongue. If that’s a crime throw me in jail.
Well, congratulations, lovely anon. You've inspired something that no one ever thought possible -- Rae writing for a BLONDE MAN, of all people. Pls enjoy this little blurb. Even though it's probably not the greatest thing I've ever written --
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your name (on that coffee cup)
warnings: none, just bad flirting.
pairing: jake jortles "hangman" seresin x fem!civilian reader
word count: 2.3k (you've gotta be fucking kidding me) of sweet, if not stilted, flirtation and whatever the fuck this is...
Reblogs make the world go 'round! 🌿💜
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The coffee shop was more crowded than usual today. You supposed it might have something to do with the fact that today, the weather gods had decided that it would be the one, annual rainy day, forcing commuters to seek shelter indoors from the "deluge" (but what you considered to be, at most, a decent sprinkle). Southern Californians were decidedly not built for the rain.
You casually observed the casuals and regulars alike filtering in and out from your chosen table adjacent to the pickup counter. Your usual table, from where you'd set up shop, plinking away at your novel with your playlist and the welcome, muffled bustle of customers as backdrop busy-noise that filtered through your headphones for company. 
People-watching was uniquely inspirational whenever you were facing a bit of writer's block, so you had opted for leaving the relative coziness of your nearby apartment – content to perch on at this table and allow the quirks of strangers to serve as fodder for your novel.
Except that today, it was more overstuffed than your favorite blue-velvet chair in your apartment. The queue of bodies waiting for their cups of caffeine and their matcha lattes causing the already-warm interior of the shop to fog the windows. 
You'd just finished a particularly troublesome paragraph – How your two stubborn protagonists were ever going to set aside their differences as they made their way through the enchanted wood, you weren't one hundred percent clear on. But sometimes it was best to skip the mental obfuscation and jump straight into a part you were excited to write … their eventual love scene was beckoning you.
You worried your drink's straw between your teeth, eyes unfocused, pondering how to get Ser Marcus out of his shirt and beneath Lady Lucy, when he walked in. 
Him.
The tall drink of water with broad shoulders and dirty-blonde hair. With a million-watt smile he graced to whichever barista happened to be handing him his coffee that day.
He looked like a Ken-doll, if you were honest. But not in a bad (junkless) way. More of an All-American, conventionally attractive way, if he'd asked you. Not that he had. You had certainly seen him here before. But you weren't sure the same could be said of him. 
You watched idly as he breezed past you to place his order in a damp shirt that was veritably plastered to his torso, and running shoes that squeaked with rainwater, the noise making its way over the dull din of the shop. 
Perhaps he'd been out for a run when the rain had started.
He spoke to Monica the barista at the counter, out of earshot, though the easy way he leaned against the counter and smiled at her made it clear he didn't mind his own state of dress. The sort of easy handsome of an Eastwood.
You had turned back to the blinking cursor of your doc, thoughts buzzing with handsomely tanned skin and wet clothes, when the unmistakable shadow of a person loomed over you.
You glanced up, only to be simultaneously thankful for your screen protector and greeted with –
"Hi there," he breezed. 
It was Ken. In the perfect plastic flesh.
And, really, it was the fact that his torso was directly in your seated eyeline (and no other reason, you swear) that allowed you to notice (appreciate) that his already-rainwet and plastered shirt hugged his torso in such a way that allowed you to observe (appreciate) that you could see the outline of every. single. one. of his abdominal muscles, as though his shirt was made of flimsy tissue paper that might tear away beneath your touch.
No, this was fine.
"Uhhh." You were articulate, you swear. "Hi."
"Would it be alright if I sat with you while I wait?" He gestured over his shoulder with a pointed thumb vaguely in the direction of the pickup counter. "It's a little crowded in here today, and this is the only open seat."
Ah. An arrangement of convenience, and not that he wanted to sit with you.
You bit down your disappointment long enough to ease your lips into what you hoped resembled a smile, gesturing openly to the seat.
"By all means."
He shot a grateful–if not cheeky– wink your way as he pulled the seat out, angling himself to maintain eye contact with you, while still keeping one ear open for his name.
"Thank you, ma'am," he conceded politely, voice still warm and easy, as though no one had ever refused him a paltry request in his life. (And maybe they hadn't.) "I didn't exactly want to stand there in my wet clothes."
"No," you agreed. "Sitting in wet clothes is much more pleasant. Especially in those tight, Baby Gap-sized t-shirts. Everyone knows that."
"Everyone," he agreed, eyes twinkling and allowing you to appreciate just how green they were, glimmering, verdant and mossy, like the forest bedecked with fresh rainfall. How fortuitous, then, that he'd choose to sit with you on San Diego's one rainy day per year. "Teacher? Grading?" He nodded at your laptop, gem eyes flitting over the fading, curled stickers slapped onto the back.
You couldn't help yourself. You giggled.
"No," you shook your head. "Novelist."
"Ah," he conceded. "So whatcha writing?" 
And as you made to open your mouth to tell him that he shouldn't really ask a writer those types of question, he perked, and held up a finger as if to say "hold that thought," as he shot up to retrieve his beverage from the counter.
He must've heard his name. Ah well, it was nice while it lasted. You tried not to feel disappointed that your one encounter with hot coffee shop guy had come and gone in the blink of an eye. And tried not to beat yourself up that you hadn't caught the name when it had been called…
To your surprise, he turned back and plopped himself back into the seat opposite you, expectant eyes awaiting your answer as he blew into the small hole at the lid of his coffee cup.
"Ehm," you continued. "It's… a … novel," you finished, lamely. Flushed with the prospect of having to admit to this guy that you wrote high-fantasy erotica for a living, your self-preservation instincts kicking in before you admitted something you wouldn't necessarily have the chance to come back from if he decided to make fun of you for.
And he was ridiculously handsome. The sort of guy who looked like he belonged on the cover of the type of book you were writing, billowing unbuttoned shirt, and all... Maybe he'd pose if you asked?
If he was annoyed or put off by your evasiveness, Ken-doll didn't show it, that million-watt grin easing its way back onto his very pleasing face, prominent jaw and white teeth on full display as he played along.
"I might've guessed," he said. "I'm Jake, by the way." 
He held out his hand for you to shake. You responded in kind, allowing his hand to envelop yours with both size and warmth as you pumped your arm in a firm, decided handshake.
"I might've guessed," you parroted. 
He shot you a quizzical look; brows furrowed.
"It's on your cup," you nodded in the direction of the cup clutched in his other hand, the corner of your mouth titling into a smile. 
"A dead giveaway," he agreed, pleased that you had thought to make the observation. Maybe you were this way with everyone, he thought. All sweet smiles and starry, foxlike eyes, discerning but decidedly available. Selfishly, perhaps — he hoped that wasn't the case.
"Unless of course they had gotten the wrong name, and it's really, like, Jack, or James, or something," the fizzling pleasure of his hand on yours and the swelter of this coffee shop was really doing a number on your head, because now you were rambling. "Then if I had called you Jake based on the cup, I would've been both presumptuous and stupid. Like a 'Mark-with-a-C situation… Cark," you finished, unhelpfully.
"Now that's just unlikely, sweetheart," he disagreed. "You're clearly too sharp for that… Bridget." He squinted at your cup, greeting you with a name that was not your own.
"Oh, no…" you laughed, the pleased sound meeting his ears despite the relative staticky-din of the late-morning rush around him, "My name isn't Bridget," you explained, sheepish about the relative silliness of the game of being friends with one of the workers. "Uh, Monica likes to give me a new name every day I come in. Sort of to mock me for how often I come, I guess? We've known each other awhile. So, she's allowed."
If Jake thought it was childish or silly, he didn't let on, instead nodding and smiling at your explanation, still incomprehensibly interested in what you had to say…
"So that's why I see you in here so often," he conceded. "A novelist who writes in a coffee shop, where she knows everyone. Cute."
Out of any other mouth, it might have sounded condescending. But there was no hint of condescension in his honey-smooth voice. Only the facile twang of Southern charm and genuine earnestness. 
But all you heard was that he'd seen you before. He had seen you.
And you must've asked this out loud, because the next thing you knew, he was all smooth laughter and glimmering teeth,
"Yeah, I've seen you," he agreed. "You always look so concentrated, I never want to interrupt. My mama raised me better than that. But today I actually had the chance to say hello. So, uh, thank the rain, I guess…" he eased.
And you'd really hoped that the pleased warmth of flirtatious embarrassment wasn't inclined to show itself in any way, across your face or the exposed skin of your shoulders. Because you were certain those sparkling eyes of his were shrewd enough to tell. And how could a guy like this not be aware of his effect on women? So, you pressed on, closing your laptop lid, the better to focus on him with.
"And what do you do, Jake? If you're out for a run in the rain, you're clearly committed. Let me guess," you tapped your chin in mock-consternation, voice trailing in thought. "Model? Please say no because that would be a lot for me."
Jake barked a laugh at this. And perhaps you'd incidentally, dangerously boosted what was already a high ego. But he continued in good humor –
"No, sweetheart. Not a model. Naval aviator," and he'd actually shrugged at that, like it was no big deal. "I'm at the base down the way. So, yeah, I guess you can say I'm dedicated."
You groaned, teasingly, fucking your head into your arms, "Oh fuck, no. So just a civil servant who looks like a model. You can get the fuck outta here with that." You leaned across the table to teasingly shove one of his (ridiculously sculpted) shoulders, pleased at the feel of him beneath your fingertips.
"It's my honor to serve you, ma'am," he straightened in his seat, taking on his best "official" voice. (Oh, god, this was doing a number on you.) He continued,
"In fact, I think you should let me take you to dinner…?" He trailed off, perhaps in realization that he still didn't know your name.
You twisted in your seat to pluck a pen from the messenger bag hanging from the back of your chair, turning back to pluck his cup from his very hands in a move so cheeky you would swear you were having some kind of out-of-body experience. You were never this bold.
But the attentions of this, okay, let's be real… this veritable Adonis before you was likely doing something dangerous to your own ego, never mind his. Your head was somewhere in the clouds (a place he was clearly comfortable, being a "naval aviator, ma'am," and all)..
You tugged the pen cap off with your teeth, your attention fixed on the label.
Huh. Vanilla soy latte. 
You didn't comment on his drink of choice, choosing instead to strike through his name with the pen, and ink your own, your phone number printed clearly and neatly beneath it. Handing the cup back to him when you'd finished, recapping the pen as he twirled the cup in his hands to read what you'd put on the label.
He parroted your name back to you, the way his mouth worked out the letters an image you'd likely think about for a little too long, ya know, later... and the sound of it from his throat ringing in your ears.
"I'll text you," he assured, winking at you as he made to stand, rapping his knuckles on the corner of your table before mock-saluting you with two fingers to his forehead and an easy, charming grin on his lips. "I look forward to hearing about that novel over dinner, ma'am." 
With that, he walked out of the shop, taking with him the air in your lungs and your certainty that that had actually just happened, and leaving you with the faintly buzzing feeling of lofty flirtation and the blooming promise of a fucking date!
Eager to capitalize on the fizzy feelings, you opened your laptop lid and turned back to your unfinished section now, wan smile borne of fresh flirtation affixed to your lips, your thoughts swimming in a seafoam green ocean of emerald eyes, breezy flirtation, and, yeah, tight t-shirts...
"It was then that Lady Lucy swung her leg astride Ser Marcus, devilish fingers peeling his tunic from his toned stomach. With a smirk painted across her features, she dipped her head, allowing herself to trace her tongue along the ridges and planes of her lover's stomach, reveling in the feel of each prominent abdominal muscle beneath her tongue. Greeted with the delightful sound of her beloved's surprised gasps, manifestations of pleasure at her attentions…"
And no, you reasoned with yourself as you typed. You totally weren't thinking of green-eyed, handsome Jake as you wrote. These desires were your character's, not yours – you swear.
And no, your thoughts also were definitely not on his promised text message, either, that lit up your phone as you glanced at it. Greeted with the proposition of "Dinner Thursday?" No, you totally weren't thinking of him…
It's life that imitates art, after all... (Or was it the other way around?) And you hadn't had the chance to taste those abs for yourself. (But hope springs eternal...)
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Tagging:  @withahappyrefrain @thegirlwhowritesfics @xbamboowishesx @friendly-neighborhood-blondie @abibliophobiaa @clints-lucky-arrow @inklore @phoenixhalliwell @ohmagawd-life @thematthewmurdock @mrshipsmcgee @p3mybeloved @decadentpaperduck @letmeplaytheliontoo @vestrangel @moonlight-prose @aphrogeneias @levylovegood @thatredheadwriter @2clones-1kamino @zombieaurora @shadeds-library @writercole @ijustwantedplums @gretagerwigsmuse @fanboysfangirl @shakira-sasha @siriusfahey @joaquinwhorres @jakexfmc @the-navistar-carol  @jadore-andor @fanboygarcia @lavenderluna10 @fluffyprettykitty @mickeyluvs @mothdruid  @maxmayfield @drew-garfi @eagerforthesky
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make-me-imagine · 2 years
Text
He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not
Plot: You and Jake Seresin are reunited a few years after meeting at Top Gun. After years of wondering how he truly feels about you, you begin to wonder if you should move on. Jake beings to realize he might be too late.
Prompts/Requests: "You shouldn't be with him, you should be with me." and October 21 K, Jake asks you to be his s/o as a confession because he's are in love with you. Requested By: @witchygagirl and an Anon
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x GN!Reader - Call Sign 'Swift'
Warnings: Mutual jealousy, but not in a toxic way. Brief cursing (like one time lol)
Words: 4.3k
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As you watched Jake line up his shot before looking over at Payback and making his shot without looking, you rolled your eyes in amusement. Same old Jake, just as cocky as he was when you were in Top Gun.
"Do you ever not show off?" Payback asked.
"Never." Jake said with a smirk as he looked over at you and winked.
You rolled you eyes playfully as you looked over at Payback "Just be glad you didn't have to deal with it constantly at Top Gun like Coyote and I had too, right?"
You looked over at Coyote who smirked and nodded his head "Hell yeah."
"Ah, come on Swift, you know you liked a challenge."
"What I liked, was beating you just to piss you off."
Jake and Coyote laughed as Payback looked between you "I still can't tell if you two are friends or not."
You smiled as you and Jake locked eyes. For a moment you felt a familiar tension between you. Something that was a constant, back at Top Gun.
Your smile faded a bit as you looked back over at Payback "We're friends, we just have a bit of a friendly competitiveness between us. Nothing new."
Jake smiled as he watched you line up your shot "We were neck and neck throughout the entire program. Which is the reason Coyote didn't want me and Swift to be on the same team tonight, isn't that right buddy?"
"I don't get it, why's that?" Payback asked.
You looked up at Payback and smirked as you made your shot the same way Jake did, successfully sinking your last ball, and the white ball with it. "Because no one can beat us when we're a team."
Payback and Coyote both groaned as Jake fist pumped "That's right!" Walking over to you, you highfived.
Jake kept your hand in his for a moment as your eyes locked again. The tension rose, until Jake let go as he spotted the other's making their way over.
You forced yourself to look away from Jake as you said hello to Phoenix and Bob. Glancing over at Jake, you repressed the sinking feeling in your gut as you thought back of your time at Top Gun.
Your rivalry at Top Gun quickly formed into friendship, as you intrigued and challenged Jake. You were one of the few people who could bounce off of his sarcasm and confidence with your own.
Between the lines of your friendship, there seemed to be more. Times when you and Jake seemed inseparable, your eyes always on each other, tension that seemed to pull you closer to affection.
But then, there would be times of distance and uncertainty. When he would treat you like an acquaintance. And you had to battle between the thoughts of 'He loves me, he loves me not.'
The hope and certainty of 'He loves me' that you decided on, was destroyed though, when you graduated from Top Gun. Because just as fast he found his way into your life, he was gone.
You hadn't talked or heard from him since the day of your graduation when he hugged you, and said he'd see you around. And as he walked away from you, for the last time, you remember that fading thought, filled with disappointment and pain. 'He loves me not.'
But now, reunited for this mission, he looked at you and treated you the same as he did back then. You were just as confused, just as hopeful, and just as doubtful.
And that pesky confused thought ran through your mind again. He loves me, he loves me not.
As you looked across the bar to see Fanboy enter and smile brightly at you, you smiled back. Looking over at Jake, you let out a sigh and pushed your thoughts away as you left the pool table. You couldn't wait for Jake forever, and you didn't deserve the pain of uncertainty that followed him.
--- --- --- ---
Walking back from the hangars after another failed attempt at the training course, you and the others ranted and complained, all annoyed at your own failures.
Breaking off from the others and heading towards the barracks, you saw Jake turn and follow you.
As he fell in line beside you he looked over at you "You gonna go to the Hard Deck with us later?"
You felt your chest tighten a bit. Shaking your head you watched him carefully "Nope."
"Aw, come on, we can beat Coyote and Payback at pool again."
You smiled but shook your head again "As fun as that sounds, I've uh, got a date."
Jake cocked his head a bit and swallowed, clearly taken by surprise. "Oh you do, do you? And how many pages does this date have?" He smirked.
You rolled your eyes, knowing he was referencing the past times at Top Gun when you opted out of the bar scene to sit in your room and relax with a book.
"None, an actual date Jake, I do have them on occasion."
He smirked at your sarcastic tone, and for a moment, you saw what you thought might be jealousy. But he quickly covered it with a dramatic sigh and wide smile
Walking backwards as he spoke, he turned and headed towards the others. "Well, I'm sure you'll be sorry after the third boring story from your date. And I'll be ready with a spare pool cue for ya'."
Your smile vanished as you continued walking. Did he really not care that you were going on a date, or was he hiding how he felt? Shaking it off, you tried to focus on your plans for the evening, shoving the thoughts of Jake to the back of your mind.
As soon as Jake got into the locker rooms, he scoffed under his breath. Who could possibly have convinced you to go on a date with them? The whole time he knew you, you had never talked about dating. Previous relationships sure, but never current.
Closing his locker a little harder than he meant too, he caught himself and let out a long breath. He had no right to be jealous about you seeing someone else. Not after how he left things after Top Gun. He had a chance back then and let it slip through his fingers. So no, he had no right to be jealous.
Hearing a familiar laugh, Jake barely looked up as Fanboy and Payback walked into the room. He didn't listen to their conversation, his head too caught up in his own thoughts.
After a moment he tuned in on their conversation, freezing as Payback joked "Where you guys gonna go after dinner?"
"I was thinking maybe a walk down the beach." Fanboy said with a smile.
Jake looked over at Payback "Got a date or something Fanboy?" He asked, trying to sound nonchalant about it.
Fanboy smiled and nodded.
Payback smirked "Yeah, with Swift no less."
Jake nodded, repressing the anger he was feeling. "Oh yeah, Y/n told me they had a date. Didn't know it was with you though."
Fanboy watched him for a second before he smiled "Yeah, yeah, I'm pretty excited about it."
Jake nodded before he grabbed his bag to leave "Sure ya' are, you're lucky, Y/n doesn't go on dates very often."
Payback and Fanboy locked eyes for a moment before they watched him leave. Fanboy felt an odd sensation in his chest, he hadn't know Hangman for very long, but he knew jealousy when he heard it.
--- --- --- ---
You laughed as Fanboy finished his story, shaking your head "So, that's how you got the name Fanboy huh?"
He shrugged "I gotta learn to shut up sometimes." He chuckled "I'm assuming how you got your name is a bit better than geeking out about something in front of a superior."
You shrugged your head and hummed. "I like to tell people it's because I'm fast. Quick reaction time, fast flyer, ya' know, hence the bird on my helmet. But, it's really because during a training session I left my radio on and everyone heard me singing Taylor Swift."
Fanboy laughed as he leaned back in his chair "No way."
You chuckled "Hey, it was a comfort thing, I was nerovus."
He shook his head, still grinning "Who called you Swift first?"
Your smile faded momentarily, which he did not fail to notice. "Uh, actually, Jake did. It was at Top Gun. I had a Call Sign previously in flight school but it never fit, even my instructors didn't think so. Jake made one joke calling me Swift and next thing I knew I had a new helmet and everything."
Fanboy smiled throughout the story "I could tell you and Hangman are close."
"We were." You corrected.
"What happened?"
Coming to your senses you shook your head and smiled "Its not that interesting, I doubt you really wanna hear about it."
He smiled softly at you as he leaned on the table "It's okay, I uh, have to admit I'm curious if there was ever anything between you, he seemed pretty pissed when he found out we were going on a date."
Your eyes widened a bit "He did?"
"Well I guess pissed is a bit of a strong word, but he was definitely jealous."
You felt your chest grow warm before you scoffed "Well he had his chance years ago and blew it, so why should I care now?"
Fanboy watched you for a moment "What did he do?"
You met his eyes for a moment before you shook your head lightly "Nothing. He did nothing, literally. There was definitely something there, between us, then when we graduated, that was it. He said goodbye, and I didn't see or hear from him again until we all got called back here."
"So nothing ever happened between you two?" You shook your head and he nodded lightly "You didn't just say yes to a date with me to make him jealous did you?"
You smiled and shook your head "I said yes to a date with you because I like you Mikey, not because of Jake."
He let out a soft sigh "Good, I'm glad. But, there's-" he motioned between the two of you "nothing happening here is there? No spark I mean."
You smiled sadly at him "Not that I've felt."
He nodded "I'm glad it's not just me, I'd feel like an ass." You chuckled softly "I guess it was just a friendly attraction then, maybe we were meant to just be good friends instead."
You nodded "Maybe."
He leaned in a bit and spoke softer "So I can be your wing-man with Hangman if you want."
You let out a bewildered scoff "So, moving from friend, to date, to wing-man that fast huh?"
He shrugged "Hey, I'm a romantic, and it sounds like you two are right in the middle of your story."
You shook your head "I don't know, I'm not sure its a story he's really invested in."
"You don't think he's changed?"
"I think he's pretty much the same."
Contemplating for a moment, you slowly began to tell Fanboy what had happened between you and Jake. The moments that almost happened, the confusion left in Jake's wake, all of it. It felt good to tell someone, and it felt nice to finally have someone understand the confusion and frustration that had plagued you because of it.
"I don't get why he'd do all that shit." Fanboy said as he tapped his fingers on the table "He seems like the type that's confident enough to admit how he feels, it just doesn't make sense."
"Trust me, I know."
He let out a soft sigh as he looked out the window "Damn it got dark fast, huh?"
You checked the time "Actually we've just been here a long time."
"We should head back I guess huh?"
Nodding, you both stood to leave "Hey, even though there was no spark, I really enjoyed this. And thanks for letting me rant about Jake."
He smiled "No problem Swiftie, thanks for letting me geek out about stuff without teasing me."
Smiling, you walked out together, but stopped when he did. "Hey, uh, maybe we shouldn't tell Jake our date ended up like this. Maybe you should let him stew in his jealous, he might come to his senses."
You thought for a moment "I don't know, seems a bit mean."
"It's the least he deserves for leaving you out to dry."
You shrugged "Fair point."
He chuckled as you both continued to make your way to his car. Jake was back on your mind, but this time you couldn't stop wondering if he was really jealous about the date, or just annoyed at the fact that you blew him off to go on it.
--- --- --- ---
You tapped your pen lightly on your notebook as you waited in the classroom for Maverick to come in. You were hyper-aware that Jake was beside sitting right beside you, as your conversation with Fanboy ran-over in your mind.
Looking back, you caught Fanboy's eye and smiled, he nodded his head in greeting before you turned back to the front of the room.
Jake, noticing this, swallowed hard, ignoring the annoyance he felt. Leaning over, he whispered softly. "So, how'd your date with Mickey-mouse go? You came back pretty late."
You debated for a moment whether to tell him it went well or not, as you glanced back at Fanboy again.
Meeting Jake's eyes you feigned a smile "My date with Mickey, went great, thanks for asking."
You turned your attention to the front of the room as Maverick came in. Jake watched you for a moment before turning his attention to him as well, a light frown etched on his face.
When the class ended Jake made his way over to Coyote and Payback. You watched Jake for a moment, wondering if he was effected at all by what you said.
Hearing him start talking to Coyote, you began to leave, before you hesitated, hearing their conversation.
"So, you gonna hang out with that blonde bombshell all night again?" Coyote asked, amusement in his voice.
Jake chuckled "I don't see why not, she certainly had a lot of energy didn't she? Gave us a hell of a show too." They all laughed.
Your eyes caught Fanboys, who clearly heard the conversation as well. You began to walk out of the room, and he jogged over to catch up.
As he got to your side, he leaned in and spoke softly "You good?"
You smiled at him, though it didn't meet your eyes "I'm fine, the same as I always am when it comes to him."
As you two left, you didn't see Jake turn to watch the two of you leave, a heavy look of indignation on his face.
He was relieved when you showed up at the Hard Deck that evening with Phoenix and Bob, and Fanboy nowhere in sight. When the previously mentioned blonde leaned on him to ask him another question, he looked away. Just in time to miss when your eyes landed on him.
You felt your gut clench when you saw a stranger practically clinging onto him, as he stared down at them, talking and smiling.
"Who's the groupie?" You asked Phoenix as you both slowly weaved through the crowd.
She shrugged "I don't know her name, but if she gets on the stage and starts singing again, I'm leaving."
"If that happens, please take me with you." Bob commented.
You smirked, but you felt your stomach twist "That makes three."
Hearing the doors open and close, you turn back to see Fanboy and Rooster enter. As Fanboy walked up to you, he spotted Jake and the stranger as well, before frowning in disappointment.
As he got to you he laid his arm over your shoulder as he spoke to all of you "Let me guess, Malibu Barbie over there is the one who high-jacked the mic last night?"
Phoenix and Bob nodded their heads in unison, as you and Fanboy both watched her and Jake flirt.
"So you two a thing now or something?" Phoenix asked as she looked at you two.
You and Fanboy met eyes for a moment before shaking your head. You patted his arm and pouted "No spark."
"Aww." Bob and Phoenix both said in unison.
Fanboy leaned in and whispered harshly "But don't tell Jake."
You smacked him, and Phoenix and Bob eyed you both curiosly.
"Do I hear a hint of scheming?" Bob asked amused.
"I'm not explaining all of this again." You said with a shake of your head.
"It's fine I will." Fanboy said far too excitedly as he lead you all over to a table.
Jake's eyes moved over the crowded bar as he searched for you. Finally spotting you, he felt his chest tighten as he spotted Fanboy right beside you as you sat with Bob and Phoenix. You had your face in your hands as Fanboy explained something to Phoenix and Bob who both looked bewildered.
Watching as you placed your head on his shoulder momentarily before you animatedly began to explain something, he let out a deep breath before forcing his attention back to his pool game.
As the woman beside him rambled about something else he didn't care about, he felt his annoyance rising. He thought being with someone else would make you jealous, but it seemed to make no difference. Or maybe he just made another stupid mistake to push you even further away.
His annoyance only built throughout the night, and even more so when he tried to find you later, only to learn you and Fanboy had left together.
--- --- --- ---
Jake had lied awake most of the night thinking over everything he had, and hadn't done when it came to you. He needed to tell you how he felt this time, no running away, no more mistakes. He couldn't let you slip away again.
The next day was long and tedious, and you and Jake never had a moment alone. As soon as he showered, he planned to make a B-Line straight to your door.
As he headed towards the barracks, he spotted Phoenix and Bob leaning against the wall outside.
Spotting him, Phoenix smirked "Hey Bagman, Barbie gonna be performing again tonight?"
Jake rolled his eyes lightly as he slowed in his pace "I hope not, and I don't really care if she does either way."
Phoenix and Bob shared a brief look before she made a subtle comment "And here I thought you had something special."
"You thought wrong." He commented dryly
As he got to the door, Phoenix spoke one more time, watching him carefully "Well you certainly had Y/n fooled."
Jake stopped for a moment before he quickly entered the barracks without another word, leaving a smirking Bob and Phoenix behind.
Jake's chest burned with purpose as he made his way to your room. Taking a deep breath he knocked twice before opening the door.
You turned away from your dresser with mild alarm as you lifted your arm in the air "By all means, come in."
"Sorry." He apologizes as he stood awkwardly by the door.
You watched him for a moment, your heart slowly starting to beat faster. "You need something?" You finally asked when the silence grew heavy.
"You going to the Hard Deck tonight? I could drive you."
Jake's voice was softer than you were expecting, and his body language not as confident. Nervous butterflies began to fill your stomach.
"I wasn't planning on going, me and Mickey were thinking of going to a movie."
Jake's stomach tightened as his face went blank, jealousy itching at his chest.
His voice came out softer than he intended when he spoke "I don't think you and Fanboy are a good match."
You frowned, as your heart began to beat heavier. "What?"
Jake cleared his throat a bit, as he spoke more firmly "You two just don't seem right for each other. You're too good for him, for anyone really."
As hopeful thoughts began to fill your head, you took a step closer to him. "So I should just be alone then?" You challenged.
He tilted his head to the side and let out a soft frustrated smile "No, that's not what I meant."
"Then if no one is good enough for me, why shouldn't I get to chose who to go out with? And why can't it be Mickey?"
"Because-" He cut himself off as his voice rose. Taking a breath, he met your eyes and spoke softer "Because, you shouldn't be with him, you should be with me."
Your heart was pounding so hard you could feel it in your head. Your ears and face burned hotter. The silence in the room as heavy as you stared at each other.
Taking another step closer he let out a soft breath "Don't tell me I'm too late."
You tilted your head a bit as you stared at him with a soft melancholy. "Why shouldn't I Jake? I waited so long to hear you say that to me. Back at Top Gun you were all I wanted. And all you did was pull away, over and over, leaving me with nothing but uncertainty. And then you left with a half-assed goodbye. I tried to get over you, but then we came back here and all it did was remind me of how I felt. And you still haven't changed. You still pull away, you let me go on dates, hll, you'd hook up with random girls at bars before you'd tell me how you felt."
He looked down at the ground in defeat as he let out a breath and shook his head. "Nothing happened with me and that girl. I admit, I was just...trying to make you jealous, it was stupid."
You felt relief wash over you, but it was overshadowed by all the emotions Jake pulled out of you.
You scoffed "That's one word for it."
He stepped a bit closer as he stared at you with desperation "I will admit a thousand times that I was an idiot back at Top Gun. You were all I wanted too, but I was afraid that- that I would lose sight of my goals, of my career, because I knew that I would leave it all behind for you."
You shook your head softly "I never would have asked you to do that and you know it."
"I do now, I do. And I'm sorry for what I put you through. Believe me when I say you are what I want, all that I want."
Taking one more step, as he stopped right in front of you, he stared into your eyes.
"I love you Y/n, I have since Top Gun, I never stopped. I have tortured myself with guilt every day since I left, every day I stopped myself from reaching out to find you. When I saw you here again I was certain you hated me, or at least, left behind those feelings after we graduated."
You stared down at your feet as you listening to him, your chest tight with emotion. You were still angry at him for what he made you feel, but stronger than that anger, was the relief and joy you felt at finally knowing once and for all. He loves me.
You looked up and met his eyes "I'll always think you're an idiot you know."
He smiled softy and nodded "And I'll always deserve it."
You wiped your nose as you sniffled "Well, there is something you should know."
He furrowed his brow and you repressed a soft smile. "Me and Fanboy aren't dating. We decided we're just better as friends."
You saw both realization and doubt cross his face. "So the movie tonight?"
"Was his idea as an excuse for me to not have to see you and that girl at the Hard Deck again."
Jake closed his eyes momentarily as he cursed himself. Meeting your eyes again, he slowly brought his hand up and gently caressed your cheek. "Does that mean I'm not too late?"
You stayed silent for a moment as you studied his face, he watched you in silent anticipation as his heart beating heavy in his chest.
Finally, you smiled softly as you shook your head "No, you're not too late. Honestly, I think I'd probably wait forever for you."
His smile widened as he leaned in a little "I'd wait forever for you too if I had too." His eyes flicked to your lips momentarily, before your eyes locked again.
Slowly, you both leaned in, your lips meeting gently, as his hand slowly gripped your waist and pulled you closer. You placed your hands on his chest as the kiss deepened. You felt shivers run through your body as he held you against him, the kiss becoming more passionate.
After a few moments, you pulled away to catch your breath. Jake let out a soft sigh before whispering "God I've been waiting to do that forever."
You smirked softly "And whose fault is that?"
He let out a soft chuckle as he cupped your cheek "Mine, definitely mine. But a mistake I wont make again is letting you go. So, just to make sure you don't slip through my fingers again. I want to be with you, from this point forward. I want you to be mine, and I wanna be yours."
You smiled softly at him "Is that your way of asking me out?"
He grinned "Yeah, it is."
"Well then." You adjusted the collar on his shirt before you smiled softly at him "I guess I'm yours."
Leaning in, your noses brushed as he whispered "And I'm yours, completely."
Kissing you again, you closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck as elation coursed through you. You no longer had to worry and wonder.
He loves me, he loves me not.
He loves me.
xx End xx
Hope you liked it :) I love me some soft Jake
General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry
Top Gun Taglist: @malindacath, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp, @sarcastic-sourwolf, @stargirl-05, @persephonesportal, @springflwer07
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wildbornsiren · 1 year
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Kiss and Make up || Jake "Hangman" Seresin/F!Reader.
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Kiss and Make up Summary: After a fight, you and Jake make up. 1521 words Female/AFAB reader (established relationship) Warnings: EXPLICIT MINORS DNI reference to an argument, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected vaginal sex. Notes: for @butaneandthebeast who asked for "Hangman and makeup sex". Comments and reblogs fuel my muses, likes are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading, it's so appreciated and means the most. **Tag list is done. Please follow @wbslibrary**
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Three days had passed since you and Jake had fought. Sure, the two of you bickered and sniped at each other at times, it was just part of being in a relationship. But this, this was something different. The tension had been building for days, bubbling over in a heated argument. Jake growing quieter and more reserved in response to your explosive anger. At this point, you can’t even remember what the two of you had fought over. Glancing once more at your phone which remained silent and unresponsive, you sighed, shoving it into your pocket and curling up on the couch. Flipping through channels trying to find something anything to distract yourself from the pit of worry in your tummy, and the worry that lingered in the back of your mind. Finding your phone in your hand once more your fingers hover Jake’s contact in your phone.
Before you can send the text there’s a knock at your door. You shuffle over, open it, and find Jake standing on your stoop. He looks as tired as you feel, his clothes wrinkled, deep purple shadows under his eyes, his hair messy. “I’m sorry.” He says, nearly as quickly as you say it. Jake’s stepping through the door, wrapping you in his arms, holding you close, his nose pressed to the top of your head. Your face is pressed to his chest, and he smells like citrus, sandalwood, the faintest trace of beer and something that was distinctly Jake. “I’ll try harder to talk before I bottle things up.” You murmur, his hands are so warm and gentle as they skim up and down your back. “I’ll do better listening to you.” He kisses the crown of your head, then your forehead. “I’m so sorry baby.” You look up at him, seeing the sincerity in those beautiful green eyes. His hands frame your face, thumbs tracing your cheekbones. “Can I kiss you hello?” He murmurs, lips brushing against yours. “Yes please,” whispering back, sighing in relief when his mouth eases over yours. You’ve always loved the way he kisses, leaning into you with his whole body, his tongue sliding past your lips, deepening the kiss. You cling to his shirt, pulling him as close as physically possible. He smiles against your mouth, bumping his nose against yours. “I missed you.” He’s holding you to him, your head cradled against his shoulder. “I promise I won’t leave angry again.” “We don’t leave angry, and we don’t go to bed without goodnight.” You say. “I can agree to that.” His hands slide under the hem of your t-shirt, resting on your sides. “I love you, and I know I’m not perfect, but I’m willing to work through it for you.” “The legendary Jake Seresin admitting he’s not perfect?” You tease gently, chasing his grin with soft kisses to the corner of his mouth. “Be still my heart.” “You’re such a brat.” His hands continue up your sides, inching your shirt up slowly. His hands are warm and worn and feel so good against your skin. You raise your arms when the shirt comes up further and he tugs it gently from your body, tossing it to the hallway floor. You reach for the buttons on his shirt, undoing them, needing to feel his skin against yours. His shirt joins yours, and your hands are all over him, tracing over his muscles, fascinated by the way his breath hitches at your touch. “I love you too.” You can’t say it as easily as he does, but he’s never pressured you to say it in return. His shoulders relax, his hands continuing their path over your torso. Jake’s hands cup your breasts, his head dropping to mouth at the column of your throat, along your collar bone. There’s a subtle scrape of stubble against the curve of your breast, as he nuzzles into your chest. “Can I take you to bed?” So soft, almost hesitant. He looks up at you, and you feel the cracks in your heart start to mend. He holds you as if you’re precious, and he’s scared you’ll shatter in his hands. “Take me to bed flyboy.” Jake takes you by the hand, leading you through the apartment, pulling you to him once more when you both step through the door of the bedroom. He kisses you slow and gentle, groaning softly when your hand slides between your bodies, fingers fumbling with the button of his jeans. “Sweetheart,” he rasps, jerking into your hand when you palm his cock through his boxers. His hands, unsteady as they draw your sleep shorts down your hips, eyes fluttering closed when you step away from him, fully nude and turn toward the bed. He shoves his jeans down, kicking them aside, boxers quickly following suit. He braces over you, hand on either side of your body, kissing your forehead sweetly. “Move closer to the edge. I won’t let you slip.” Jake drops to his knees in front of you, hands skimming up your legs, easing them apart. His mouth drags along the inside of your thighs, soft open-mouthed kisses to your skin.
“Jake…” His eyes raise to meet your gaze, and he smiles softly. “I don’t beg sweetheart, but I know to ask for forgiveness on my knees.” His tongue darts out to lick at your pussy. Jake moans softly, the vibrations going straight through you, his fingers parting your folds, kissing the warmth pooling between your legs as sweetly as he kisses your mouth. He laps at your clit, the flickering of his tongue making you shake with need. There’s a moment of reprieve, but the desperation for more spiraling in your belly intensifies. His nose bumps your clit, tongue teasing at your entrance, pressing in, licking and kissing. One hand slides into his hair, and he groans, tongue pressing deeper. You tug gently and he only presses closer. The scruff on his cheeks and jaw scrape against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you fall back against the bed, overwhelmed. Another yank to his hair, hips rolling against his face, and the sound that comes from him makes your eyes flutter, hand twitching, tugging those blond strands once more. It’s wet and hot, he’s moaning against your pussy, swallowing your arousal. His taps twice against your thigh, an agreed upon signal to use his face for your own pleasure. It only spurs you on, grinding against that scruff and relentless tongue. You can’t say anything but his name, fucking yourself against the man between your legs. The pleasure finally snaps, spiraling through you, hips arching. Jake only presses closer, lavishing attention on your clit, sucking and licking at it until you’re pushing his head away with a shaky hand. He kisses your tummy, up your torso, nuzzling softly against your neck. “Still with me?” You whimper, and he chuckles softly, that satisfied sound sliding down your spine. “I don’t know.” He’s so warm and heavy on top of you, and it’s something you missed so much. “I think I need more.” “More?” He quirks an eyebrow up, shifting his weight. His cock is hard, straining against his stomach, tanned skin smeared with precum. “One more for me?” Your arms circle his shoulders, pulling him close again. “Please fuck me.” You kiss him softly, tasting yourself on his lips. His hands grip your hips, drawing them up, the blunt head of his cock sliding into you. You tighten around him instantly as he sinks into you painstakingly slow. Inch by inch, you’re both panting by the time he’s bottomed out. He thrusts slow and deep, dragging himself in and out of your body. It’s slow, even, and drives you crazy. Jake is pressing kisses to your face, shoulders, every inch of you that he can reach. His muscles move under your hands, rippling and flexing. He’s the most breathtaking person you’ve ever met, and beyond that he’s giving, affectionate, with a wicked sense of humor, and he loved you for your flaws. You loved him for his, the way he protected you effortlessly, defending you without a second thought. Overstimulated, overwhelmed and wanting more, your second orgasm washes over you, warm and easy. “Baby?” He’s stopped, fingers brushing errant tears from your cheeks. “Am I hurting you?” You shake your head reaching for him, pulling him in for a kiss. “I love you.” “I know, I know sweetheart.” He murmurs, kissing you again. “I love you too. So much it hurts.” He smiles a little crookedly. “Want me to stop?” “Don’t you dare,” you hook your legs around his middle, keeping him close to you. Jake smirks, resuming his thrusts, a bit harder than before chasing his own release. Jake comes with a breathless sound, face pressed against the curve of your neck, trembling as he empties into you. He kisses you again, soft and sweet before he’s pulling out. Jake rolls out of bed, pulling his boxers on and stepping into the bathroom. He cleans you up with a warm washcloth, bundling you up in the blankets, warmed by you both. /end
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croimilis · 1 year
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✴ 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭
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the top gun maverick character taking care of you when you’re drunk
❊ characters: bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw, jake ‘hangman’ seresin, robert ‘bob’ floyd, 
❊ warnings: alcohol consumption, drunknenes, mentions of makeup and hells but no specific pronouns used, established relationship 
❊ word count:  listed with each character 
❊ a/n: the inspiration for this comes from the fact that I was drunk  and wanted nothing more than one of the top gun characters (and my boyfriend) to look after me. i also loved doing this type of writing, it was really helpful for preventing burnout with my longer pieces, and i am open for headcanon requests. 
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✾ bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw [375]
the biggest baby when you’re leaving. pouts and gives you puppy dog eyes as you’re leaving to try and get you not to leave but will still give you a kiss as you walk out the door or as he drops you off. he will text you throughout the night to make sure your safe and happy and the minute you text him saying you wanna go home or if there is any change in the way your texting that puts him on edge, he’s immediately leaving to go and pick you up wherever you may be. when he collects you, he’s all goofy smiles and sweet forehead kisses as he gently ushers you into the car, saying his goodbyes to your friends and checking in to make sure they all have ways home and even offering to drop them home if they don’t. what happens when you get in the car depends, if you’re hungry and need something greasy that just hits the spot Rooster will not hesitate to take you to get food, but if you just wanna go home and get into bed then he’ll head there straight away. when you do get home, he watches amused as you struggle to get your heels off, stumbling through the hall and into the living room where you slump onto the sofa and start fighting with the flimsy strap but he wouldn’t let you struggle for long, bending down beside you and taking your shoes off for you placing a gentle kiss to your ankle as he does. he would then, despite your protests, carry you to the bedroom bridal style and place you gently on the bed, turning around to let you take your clothes off while he grabs your favourite pyjamas from the drawer, if you’re struggling with zipers or buttons bradley will gladly help you. once your changed and tucked under the bed he goes and fills up a glass of water and grabs some advil, which he places on the bedside table on your side with a sweet kiss to your forehead. he then gets into bed beside you, where he holds you close to his chest and rubs gentle circles on your arms to help you get to sleep.
✾ jake ‘hangman’ seresin [556 words]
much like bradley, jake is pouting and whining and trying to make you stay, even going so far as to pull you in for a deep kiss and messing up your lipstick just before you leave, which earns him a slap to the shoulder before you go and fix it. he’ll even come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, placing soft kisses on your neck and shoulder, smirking to himself because he thinks he’s won. but then you turn and press a soft kiss to his check, leaving behind a lipstick stain and suddenly your out the door and he’s left gobsmacked. and isn’t that he doesn’t want you to go out with your friends, he wants you to go have fun and let loose a little you just looked so damn good in your outfit and heels and he may have wanted you all to himself for the night just so he could ravish you. nevertheless, jake sits with his feet up watching an old movie with his phone on his chest so he could feel it vibrate, checking it every time it does to see if you’ve text him or are calling him to come pick you up. once the text asking him to pick you up comes through, he’s out the door like a shot and at your location as quick as possible. when he gets there, he’s has a smug little smile on his face as he remembers all the time you’ve chastised him for being too drunk and now here you are, just as bad or maybe even worse than he’s ever been and he is so not gonna let you forget that in the morning, in fact he takes photos and videos of your drunk ramblings so he has proof (that he quickly deletes the next morning when you ask him to). once he’s had his fun and said goodbye to your friends, he helps you into the car and buckles your belt for you. as he drives, he’ll take your hand in his and rub gentle circles over your knuckles while the other is on the steering and he listens intently as you ramble about the drama in the morning (storing the information away to get a more coherent story in the morning time), and when he pulls up to your home (even if you’re fully awake and coherent) he will throw you over his shoulder and carry you into your home. before he puts you to bed, he places you on the counter in the bathroom and takes your makeup off for you, peppering you with gentle kisses as he does, and brushes your hair for you so it isn’t a tangled mess in the morning. when that’s all done, he helps you out of your heels and outfit (throwing it into the washing basket in the bathroom) before carrying you koala-style into the bedroom and gently placing you on the bed where your pyjamas are already lead out. though he knows you can dress yourself, he helps. once your dressed, he crawls into bed with you and holds you against his chest where you fall asleep listening to his heartbeat. it isn’t until the morning that he realises he didn’t leave out water and painkillers, but he’s lucky he’s awake before you and their sitting there when you finally wake in the morning. 
✾ robert ‘bob’ floyd [473 words]
bob is the sweetest man, giving you gentle kisses before you go out and being so careful so he doesn’t mess up your makeup and i think out of all of them, bob is the most prepared when you go out drinking. before you even leave the house, you agree on a time for him to come and pick you up and if you want him to come earlier you have a code word that you text him and he will be there as quick as he can. in both cases, he’s throwing your comfiest pyjamas into the tumble dryer before he leaves the house so their nice and warm for you coming in and he’s already filled your favourite bottle with water and ice and put in the fridge, he’s double checking to make sure you have pain killers in your medicine drawer and if you don’t he’s stopping at one of those 24hr stores to pick some up because he knows you’ll need some in the morning. when he arrives at the club or bar where your drinking, he’s quick to find you and guide you outside to the car with his arms wrapped around your waist and carefully sits you in the care, legs sticking out so he can take your shoes of for you. once your shoes are off, he's throwing them into the back seat to be tomorrows problem and buckling you into the car. while he drives, he has a hand on your thigh, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb as a reminder for you that he was there. unlike bradley, he will not take you to get food but will insist on getting you home and into bed but he promises to order in the greasiest breakfast he can find in the morning. once your home, almost asleep in the passenger side, he scoops you up into his arms and carries you into the house and straight into bed where he lets you undress while he grabs your pyjamas out of the tumble dryer and brings them to you, again leaving you to get dresses in peace while he grabs the water bottle from the fridge and two pain killers for the morning. when he gets back into the room, you’re curled up tightly under the blanket and struggling to keep your eyes open so he just places the water and pain killers on the bedside before placing a soft kiss on your forehead before going into the bathroom and grabbing on of your makeup wipes, which he uses to rub most of your makeup of as gently as he can once he’s done he starts preparing for bed himself. by the time he crawls in, your already fast asleep, but he’s quick to wrap his arms around you and bring your back into his chest.
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masterlist
hello! i write for tg:m and cm open to requests! - cam
TOP GUN: MAVERICK
cross my heart 3,6k words - Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x f!reader 18+ On the eve of what may be the biggest mission in your naval career, the answer to your problem comes to you in the form of Lt. Jake Seresin
mamas (don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys) 3,1k words -  Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x f!reader Every year around the holidays, you hear from your ex. This year when you don’t respond, he decides to show up at your door.
where the wild things are - Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!reader part 1 / part 2 / currently in progress  Two years ago, your sister’s death left a smoking crater in your life, leaving you to take care of your niece. Bradley has lived with loss his whole life, and is in a particularly bad spot on the anniversary of his mother’s death.
Or: there is a crack in everything / that is how the light gets in
a stout ship / a clear sea drabble -  Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x gn!reader You are about to go up into the air when Hangman comes over to help you with your gear.
my tgm fic recs here
CRIMINAL MINDS
A Matter of Record 4.7k words - Spencer Reid x f!reader part 1 / part 2 Adjusting to civilian life after the military is a challenge, but your job as an Information Management Specialist at the FBI is the perfect place to land. Out of all the agents you’re assigned to, you soon come to have a favorite - if only you would ever meet in real life.
Far from where we live - Spencer Reid x f!reader part 1 / part 2 / currently in progress “I was remediated in the academy also... what was my issue? Marksmanship, physical training, obstacle course, Hogan's Alley, you know, pretty much everything that wasn't technically book related. They ultimately had to make exceptions to allow me into the field.” Called to Texas on a case, Spencer is confronted with a ghost.
Mutual Understanding 2.9k words - Spencer Reid x gn!reader You and your reserved co-worker Dr Reid have a mutual understanding: Sometimes, when your job gets to be too much, it’s good not to be alone.
Surveillance 1.7k words - Spencer Reid x gn!reader After a not quite voluntary transfer to the BAU, you have trouble feeling like you fit in. Over the course of many hours running surveillance with your colleague Dr Reid, that might change.
Tacit Admissions 1.4K words - Spencer Reid x gn!reader Spencer lands in the hospital, and you have to come clean with yourself.
Thorn in My Side 2k words - Spencer Reid x f!reader 18+ Tensions between your coworker and you come to a head on a hot night working a case in Miami.
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simpforrooster · 9 months
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nothing but a gentleman.
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Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x F!Reader
summary: jake is obsessed with you. you eat it up. you’re obsessed with his obsession. but also with him.
t/w: soft!jake, some cursing
"Get out of here, Bagman. You're giving me a headache."
The blonde aviator grabs at his chest. "God, I love it when you're mean to me." Those green eyes sparkle with mischief under the lights of the Hard Deck.
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin has been pining after you for months.
& you have been loving every second of it. Miramar's resident playboy has only had eyes for you. You haven't seen him spare a glance at any of the other ladies in the bar.
Believe me, they've been looking at him.
"Y/n, how long are you going to keep my boy at arm's length?" Coyote asks from the other side of the pool table. Jake saddles up next to him and feeds you the saddest pout he can muster.
"Yeah, y/n, how long?" Jake asks.
Your intention wasn't to drag this hard-to-get play out for so long. Truthfully, it's becoming hard not to give in to those strong arms. To not lean in when he invades your personal space, feeding you a smart ass comment.
Your shoulder comes up to your ear and falls back down. "Hard to say, Bagman."
"Let's play for it," he tells you. Jake saunters over to you, and leans against the pool table. Crossing his arms over his fit chest, he situates his mouth just outside your ear. "If I win, you've gotta give me a kiss, darlin'."
The way his hot breath falls across your ear causes goosebumps to appear down your arms. Jake notices, and a blonde brow raises.
"What are you? Twelve?" you antagonize.
"Oh, honey. I'm willing to try anything at this point."
"Rack 'em. Honey." You lightly shove him back, your hands reacting to the small second they were on his chest.
"If I win, you give it up," you send the man a sad look.
"Give what up?" he asks.
"All this pining'." Your hand gestures wildly around in the air.
For a moment, despair crosses over that handsome face. He recovers quickly. "Oh, I'm not worried."
Jake lets you break. Two stripes fall into the pocket. Jake comes up behind you before your next shot. His hand slides across your waist and he pulls you into his side.
Right as you pull back, Jake leans down. "Don't scratch."
The cueball follows your striped ball into the pocket.
"Damn," he murmurs. It takes a full 45 seconds to get your heart rate under control.
The jig is up once Jake get in control of the pool table. Not only is he the dagger squad's best dart player, he's got the best pool table on lock, too. There is no way he's going to take it easy on you.
Naturally, he doesn't.
"One more and Hangman gets a kiss," he smirks. He doesn't take his eyes off your as he pulls back and send the cue ball sailing.
The eight ball falls into it's intended pocket effortlessly. Followed right by the cue ball.
Shock falls across all your faces. Jake has never lost a game of pool. Ever.
Jake sets the cue stick down, and rounds the table. Standing toe-to-toe with you, he feeds you a delicious smirk.
"Darlin', I ain't gonna make you kiss me if you don't want to. Furthermore, I only want your kiss if its of your own volition." He tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear.
Your eyes lock with his and the world stops. What a fucking gentleman.
Fisting the front of his shirt, you yank him down to your mouth. Jake relaxes into the kiss immediately and allows his hands to slide around your waist.
Jake takes control, changing the direction and deepening the kiss. Your hands move from his shirt to the nap of his neck, fingers knotting in his hair. His hair that’s gotten just a bit long.
Jake pulls back just a hair, his lips a breath away from yours. “Damn,” he mumbles, again.
“My own volition, huh?”
“I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” he winks. “A gentleman who is dying to kiss you again.”
You guide his lips back to yours.
“Kiss me, Hangman.”
master list.
a/n: been a little while since i wrote for ole jakey. i hope y'all like it!
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roosterforme · 3 months
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Sneak Peek | Hangman x Reader
Summary: You spent so much time around the boys, they counted you as one of them. You were firmly stuck in the friend zone with Jake, so it was time to move on with a guy who could see past your flight suits. It's not immediately obvious to either of you that cranky Jake is actually jealous Jake.
Warnings: Fluff, language, mentioned smut, 18+
Length: 6000 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Happy birthday @beyondthesefourwalls!
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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"It's my turn to buy a round," you said, standing up from the table and grabbing the empty beer bottles before turning toward Jimmy and Penny at the bar.
"Thanks, Rodeo," Jake murmured, and you turned back briefly and smiled softly at him. His gaze slid down your body the same way it would with any other woman, the only difference was that he had started to notice just how many other guys were regularly checking you out, too. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that fact.
When you squeezed yourself between two stools at the bar to order four more beers, Bradley asked, "Who are you staring at, Hangman? Rodeo?"
Mickey laughed as Jake quickly shook his head and turned his attention back to his friends. "I just wanted to make sure she can manage carrying everything."
"I'm sure she's fine," Bradley replied with a laugh of his own. "I got a little nervous for a second there."
"Why?" Jake asked, his eyes slowly drifting back to you, watching as you slipped your credit card into the back pocket of your jeans. 
"Because first of all," Bradley said as he smashed open a peanut on the table, "Rodeo is practically one of the guys. And second," he added, popping the peanut into his mouth and chewing, "it would be weird if you start looking at her like you do all the other random pieces of ass you take home with you. Even though she is cute."
"She's cute, for sure," Mickey piped in. "But once you've seen a girl throw up in the parking lot after a drunken karaoke night, the appeal kind of wears off."
Jake smiled as you headed back toward the table, because the drunken karaoke night was when he got to drive you home and carry you to your bed while you repeatedly tried to tell him you could walk by yourself. 
"Oh, you know who else is cute?" Bradley asked just as you set four new beers on the table. "That redhead with the huge tits at the dartboard."
"Damn," Mickey groaned, and now you were looking in that direction, too. But Jake kept his eyes on you. 
"Do we have to talk about this in front of Rodeo?" he asked, sipping his fresh beer and starting to wish Bradley and Mickey would wander off. "In front of a lady?"
Bradley snorted so hard, Jake was surprised his beer didn't shoot out of his nose. "A lady?" he asked as he looked at you and cuffed you on the arm. "Nice try, Hangman, but Rodeo doesn't count."
"Well, you don't count either," you told him, and Bradley tapped the neck of his bottle to yours. "And neither do the two of you." Your gaze met Mickey's before settling on Jake. "You know I don't mind when you guys talk about girls. I get it. You're all hot."
But your knee was rubbing against Jake's thigh at the tiny table, and for a brief flash, he thought maybe he wanted to count in your mind as a guy you could be into.
--------------------------
It was a strange dynamic, working with mostly a bunch of men all the time. They saw you in a flight suit once, and they never looked at you like you were a female ever again. And that was fine. It made your job easier in a lot of ways. There were fewer distractions, and you knew for a fact that they liked you for your personality. They wouldn't invite you to hang out all the time if they didn't.
But on nights like this, it did sting a little bit to watch the three of them tripping over themselves to go talk to the redhead who was clearly eating up the attention. You were essentially wearing the same outfit she was: jeans and a black shirt. And you thought you looked cute. And what exactly was wrong with your boobs? You looked down at your body and kind of shrugged. You didn't get it. 
Natasha handed you a pool cue, and you sank a shot. You made up the excuse that you wanted to play so the guys wouldn't feel bad about abandoning you to go talk to girls, but Jake had been hesitant at first, so you shoved him along. That was a mistake, because you were reminded of how solid and muscular he was under his soft shirt. 
The first few times you glanced his way, he was already looking back at you. If he were any other guy, you would have just asked him out by now, but you were so firmly in the friend zone with all of them that it was embarrassing. The rejection would be laughable. 
So you put your head down and focused on the game and the chit chat around you. But after a while you got curious, and when you looked up again, Bradley and Mickey were walking back toward the table where your empty beer bottle sat. Jake had won. The redhead was running her fingernails through his hair. It was all over for the night. 
You weren't jealous. You weren't. You just didn't understand why it couldn't be you. As you sank the eight ball, you said, "I'm beat. I'm going to head home."
"Me too. Want a lift?" Mickey asked, and you nodded, not sparing a single glance back at Jake. 
Maybe you were the problem. Maybe you weren't sexy. You spent most of Sunday scrutinizing yourself in your bedroom mirror and going through all of your clothing. There really wasn't much of it since your closet was lined with uniforms and flight suits. And when you looked in the mirror, it wasn't like you could even tell what the problem was. You were just you, but it was starting to feel like you'd been playing around in this male-dominated world for so long, you were just blending in there. 
"Fuck it," you muttered reaching for your phone. There was a text from Bradley detailing the pricing for tickets to a Padres game, which you desperately wanted to go to. It sounded fun. Then you realized the beer drinking and peanut eating would simply be moved to a different venue in which the guys would be looking at all the other women around you. Suddenly it didn't sound so fun.
There were also a handful of texts from Jake. He must have kicked his guest out early if he was asking how you were doing this morning. You sent back a short message before finding the app on your screen that had been dormant since you got stationed in San Diego last summer. Tinder. It was right there. 
Nervously, you entered your login information, terrified that you'd just end up with a bunch of guys you saw on base as your best options. They would undoubtedly take one look at you and have the same reaction your male friends did. But you spent the rest of the day thinking about it. You looked, but you didn't sample. You found some guys who were surprisingly not in the Navy, but you didn't swipe. And maybe part of the reason you didn't was because Jake kept texting you all day long.
Monday was your tipping point. You were all ready to fly in your boots and flight suit when you ended up surrounded by the guys in the hangar. "We getting Padres tickets, Rodeo?" Bradley asked. "Day drinking at Petco Park?"
You nodded at him. "Sounds fun."
Then Mickey cut in as Jake walked over. "Hey, Hangman. How was our little redheaded friend?" he asked with a smirk, but Jake's expression stayed the same as his eyes met yours. 
"Wouldn't know."
"Oof," Bradley said with a goading laugh. "What, you kicked her out without even talking to her afterwards?"
You swallowed and looked down at your boots as you thought about the guys on the dating app. Maybe a little change of scenery wouldn't hurt anything after all.
-----------------------------
"Can you just knock it the fuck off?" Jake snapped. "I didn't even spend the night with her." He watched you put your helmet on as you walked toward your jet. "And I don't like talking about this shit around Rodeo anymore."
"Alright," Bradley replied with a tiny smirk. "No need to get mad about it."
When Jake took to the air, you were all business, as usual. You and he flew well together, like you always did. But back on the ground at lunchtime, you barely spared a glance in his direction in the cafeteria. Instead, you were completely absorbed in something on your phone as you picked at your food.
"What's wrong?" he eventually asked, and you looked up at him like you were surprised he was still there. 
"Nothing," you murmured, taking a drink before returning your attention to your phone. "Just working on something."
"On what?" he asked, voice almost as snippy as it had been earlier. He found he didn't like it when your attention wasn't focused on him, which was absolutely infuriating, because it's not like the two of you were anything. 
"My Tinder profile," you replied smoothly as you licked your lips, and Jake thought he must have misheard. Since when were you looking for a guy?
"Tinder?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed. "I'm just trying to sort out which photo to use, because I like this one where I'm in my flight suit, but guys don't really tend to go for that sort of thing."
You turned your phone to show him, and Jake swallowed hard. It was a photo he had taken a few months ago. He remembered that day. Your sunglasses were hooked on the top of your suit, and your helmet was tucked under your arm, and your smile was infectious. 
"I like that one," he told you softly. 
But you just rolled your eyes and groaned. "But you don't count, now do you?"
Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Why are you on Tinder anyway?"
Now you laughed as you set your phone down. "Why do you think?"
He didn't want to think about it, even though he knew why. You were looking to hookup with someone. Or maybe it was even worse. Maybe you were looking for an actual boyfriend. Someone to spend all your time with. You'd be at the Hard Deck after work less frequently. You'd be going to the Padres game with some faceless idiot, and he'd be the one carrying you home after you overdid it at karaoke night. Worse yet, you could have your pick of any guy on that app who caught your eye, but Jake knew for a fact none of them were good enough for you. 
"Rodeo," he grunted, unsure how to voice his concerns. You just tapped your screen a few times and then smiled at him as his heart clenched a little bit.
"I went with the photo from Reuben's wedding instead."
Jake ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't even have to ask. He also knew that photo well too. His voice was soft as he said, "Blue dress. Holding a martini. Hand on your hip." He didn't like the idea of a bunch of guys he didn't even know looking at you wearing something so pretty.
"That's the one! And now my bio is live on the app," you said as you tapped your screen one last time. "Wish me luck."
You stood with your tray and Jake told himself he would do no such thing.
---------------------------
"That photo must have done the trick," you mumbled the following day in the rec room on base as Natasha helped you sort through your matches.
"I'm sure it did," she replied in awe. "You look hot in it."
You wanted to believe her, but it didn't even matter right now, because the two of you were staring at a photo of a hot guy who had sent you a message. You gasped. "Is this for real?"
"Looks like it," she replied. "If you don't fuck him, I will. Happily."
"What are the two of you over here whispering about?" You looked up into Jake's smiling eyes and gave him a grin of your own.
"Rodeo is getting all the Tinder hotties," Natasha replied, and suddenly Jake's smile vanished. "Let me know if he sends you a dick pic."
"He better fucking not!" Jake growled as he tried to reach for your phone. "Show me what this asshole looks like so I know who to pound to dust if he sends you one." You rolled your eyes and held up your phone so he could see. "His name is Tony? And he's a dentist?"
"What's wrong with that?" you asked quickly.
Jake crossed his arms over his chest. "If you have to ask, then you don't want to know."
You scoffed and opened your messages. "You're being dramatic. And I don't get on you about who you decide to hook up with."
"So you're just trying to hook up with this asshole?" he asked, his lips curling in disgust.
Honestly, you weren't really sure. But he sounded nice in the messages he sent. "Would it really be so bad if I was?"
Jake scrutinized your face like he was in pain, and you had the craziest thought flash through your mind that perhaps he was jealous. But then the pinched lines on his forehead vanished, and his voice was completely calm as he said, "You do what you want, Rodeo. But don't come crying to me about it later."
"Fine," you told him as he walked away. And that's what spurred you to reply to Tony's message with a more flirtatious one of your own. You were allowed to hook up with him. You were allowed to go out on a date. Maybe you'd even eventually request a dick pic. Jake wasn't in charge of your Tinder profile or dating agenda.
A few short exchanges back and forth was all it took, and suddenly you had plans for Saturday night that didn't involve hanging with the guys at the Hard Deck for once. Tony was going to take you out to dinner, and you were already excited.
----------------------
"Where the hell is Rodeo?" Bradley asked as he returned to the table with three bottles of beer instead of four. "She's usually here by seven."
Jake rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "She's not coming. She's on a date with some smug looking asshole named Tony."
"Good for her," Mickey piped up, earning a glare from Jake. "I hope she gets laid. You wanna grab Javy and play pool?"
With a groan, Jake dragged himself out of his seat and forced his body through the motions. He hit the cue ball with perfect precision, but meanwhile, all he could think about was some other guy's hands all over your body while he shoved his tongue down your throat. "Fuck," he growled, trying to fight the urge to text you. If you wanted him, you knew how to reach him. 
Between shots, he glanced around the bar at all the other women, but he couldn't find a single one as pretty as you. He spent the rest of his night barely conversing with his friends while he hoped that your date was a complete flop. And when he left to head home alone, he caved and texted you to make sure you got back to your place safely. 
That was over twelve hours ago. Jake still hadn't heard back from you. It was damn near noon on Sunday, and he was left assuming that you spent the night with Tinder Tony. When you finally texted him back, the response made him toss his phone aside. 
Sorry, just seeing this now. Yes, I made it home safely. See you tomorrow.
Monday was worse. You were glued to your phone at every opportunity you got, and Jake could tell by the little smile on your face that you must be talking to that asshole. 
"Rodeo, how was your hot date?" Bradley asked, bumping your helmet with his while he winked at Jake. 
"Pretty good," you replied with a little laugh. 
"You get laid?" Mickey asked obnoxiously, and you rolled your eyes before glancing at Jake. He was dying to know the answer to the question, but also terrified to hear it. 
"Wouldn't you like to know," you replied, returning your attention to your phone. "Put it this way... I'm going out with him again for dinner on Wednesday."
"Who goes to dinner on a Wednesday?" Jake scoffed. "That's when we usually go to the bar! And what did you and Tinder Tommy even talk about the whole time? Dentures? Teeth?"
"No," you snapped at him. "He told me how pretty he thinks I am, and that he was nervous to meet me in person. And his name is Tony, not Tommy. So don't be rude when we stop by the bar after dinner on Wednesday."
"Can't wait to meet him," Jake grumbled, highly disappointed that your date had been even somewhat successful. And he still wasn't sure if you'd gone home with Tony. Or worse... if he'd gone home with you. 
Jake had crashed in your bed with you once a few months ago when you hosted game night. Mickey, Nat and Bradley all passed out in your living room, so you'd taken him by the hand to your bed. Every time he thought about it, he could practically feel the warmth of your body next to his and your foot hooked over his ankle. The idea of someone else there engaging in pillowtalk or fucking you just right was way too much for him to handle, because he was starting to feel like he wanted to be that person.
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Okay, so Tony was a little boring. A lot boring, actually. And on Wednesday night at dinner, he actually did mention dentures, and you could practically hear Jake scoffing from the Hard Deck. But Tony was hot and nice and he paid for dinner. Could you really hope for more than that?
"So, you mentioned stopping at a Navy bar?" he asked as you walked back to his car. "I keep forgetting you're even in the Navy. It just doesn't seem like you."
Maybe you should have used the other photo for your dating profile since you'd had to remind him twice already that there were a lot of women in the military now. "Yeah. It's called the Hard Deck. I usually hang out there on Wednesdays, and I thought maybe my friends could meet you?"
"Sure," he replied, and he even played boring music on the way there. But when he walked you inside, he kissed your cheek, and that felt kind of nice until Jake was looking. You felt embarrassed and a little guilty when he scowled at you from the pool table, so you eased yourself away from Tony and took him by the hand instead. 
"Hey, guys," you said cautiously as you approached the pool table. "This is Tony." 
Jake's jaw was clenched tight as he reached out to shake hands with your date in a death grip, and you cringed as he said, "Nice to meet you, Tommy." 
And it all went downhill from there. You had to correct him three times, even though you were sure he knew Tony's name. And even the other guys didn't really seem to mesh well with Tony. Bradley looked scandalized when he told them he didn't like beer or playing pool, and Mickey tried to make a dentist joke that just didn't land. 
You wanted to crawl into your bed and not come back out for a week. You also kind of wanted to ask Jake what his problem was. Tony was a nice guy. His hand on your back felt nice, and his goodnight kiss at your front door was nice. There was even some tongue, and you didn't stop his roaming fingers. Maybe another date or two and you'd ask him to come in.
"Would you like to get dinner on Saturday night?" he asked as his lips grazed your neck. "At the Boathouse?"
You closed your eyes and leaned back, and the image of Jake took over. His lips were on your earlobe, and he was whispering your name as you led him to your room. His hands were settling on your hips and squeezing gently as you melted into his touch.
"What do you think?" Tony asked, and you were jarred back to reality by his voice.
You swallowed hard and nodded as you opened your door. "Saturday night sounds good," you said as you ducked inside. "See you then."
You couldn't have Jake. You just needed to get it through your head that he didn't want you like that.
------------------------------
Jake knew he was behaving poorly even as he was doing it. Tony looked annoyed by him, and you looked embarrassed, but he just kept calling him the wrong name and standing off to the side like a dick. He was actually the asshole. Not Tony. And he needed to apologize to you at work the next day. 
He found you in the hangar, pacing back and forth as you played with the strap on your helmet. When you turned, he started to say, "Hey, Rodeo, I'm really-"
"I need your help," you blurted out when you saw him heading your way. "I need you to come shopping with me tomorrow after work, because I wore my only two dresses already, and everything else in my closet is ridiculous. And Tony is taking me to the Boathouse on Saturday, so I can't just throw something together and call it a day."
Jake ground his back teeth together. The Boathouse was nice. As in, he could think of at least three people he knew who got engaged there. How much money did dentists make anyway? He was full blown jealous now. He knew that. But you'd asked him for help, so of course he was going to do whatever you wanted. Your eager eyes were enough to make him agree on the spot.
"Where are we going shopping?" he asked softly. 
You looked so relieved as you said, "The mall. I don't think it will take too long, and I can treat you to dinner as a thank you."
"No," he replied. "You don't owe me anything, Rodeo."
"Thanks, Jake," you whispered as you threw one arm around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. "I know I can trust you to tell me what looks good. Because you're a guy, and you know what guys like. I've been in such a rut, and I don't even know what looks nice on me anymore. But I trust your opinion."
He wrapped his arm around your waist and held you a little closer. If you trusted him, he wouldn't let you down. He never wanted to let you down. He would take you to the mall and tell you which outfits looked nice on you, even though he knew it would be all of them, and he would be cool about you dating Tony. "Sure, Rodeo. Anything you want."
When the time came, he was miserable. You seemed excited, bouncing on your feet in your jeans and sneakers as you collected dresses and cute little outfits to try on, but he knew none of this was really for him. You'd just be giving him a little sneak peak of what Tony would have his hands all over. 
"How about this one?" you asked, holding up a red mini dress that made Jake's mouth dry up. Then you moved it in front of your body and looked down. "It's probably too much for me."
He wanted to tell you that you couldn't pull it off, but he knew the fucking thing was made for you. "Try it on and see," he said softly, so you added it to your pile. Then he followed you like a puppy dog to the fitting room, holding half of the dresses for you to try on. When you passed the lingerie section, Jake had to watch you grab a few lacy items. "Have you slept with Tinder Tommy yet?" he snapped when you picked up a black bra and added it to your arms. 
You looked up at him with a soft pout. "Well, no. That's why I'm trying to buy some sexy stuff, you know? Just in case I want to take it there."
Jake had seen you in your bathing suit many, many times. You didn't need to be wearing anything made out of lace and silk to look sexy, but the sight of you in half of this shit would probably give Tony a damn heart attack. Then he realized as you led him along that he himself might not make it out of the fitting room alive.
"Just stand out here, okay?" you said softly, guiding him against the wall. He grunted in response and watched you line up everything you wanted to try on inside the fitting room before closing yourself inside. You kicked your shoes off, and then he watched you push your jeans down to your feet through the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. You stepped out of them, and his imagination started to supply the rest. 
You were completely naked now, he was sure of that fact, and you were only a few feet away from him, separated by a flimsy door. His head tipped back against the wall as his breathing grew a little deeper. Your toenails were painted bright green, and you were talking quietly to yourself as you stepped into a black dress and started to guide it up your legs. 
"This isn't too bad," you muttered, and a few seconds later you were unlatching the door and pulling it open with an apprehensive look on your face. Jake's jaw dropped open as you stepped right up to him and asked, "What do you think?"
"Rodeo," he grunted, fisting his hands at his sides to keep them from touching you as you spun slowly in front of him. "Looks good."
You frowned a little more. "I was hoping for better than good," you replied, twirling away from him and back into the fitting room.
Jake's body was thrumming with desire as he watched that black fabric pool at your feet under the door. "It was better than good, Rodeo," he said, nearly choking on the words as you stepped to the side and bent to pick it up. 
"I'll try the red one," you informed him, and he had to press his lips together, knowing what was coming next. This time it took you a little longer, and he watched your feet under the door as you turned in front of the mirror. "It's really short," you finally said as you opened the door again. 
"Jesus Christ," Jake moaned softly. The thing fit you like a damn glove. Every curve and soft dip of your body was right there, begging to be touched. His palms were sweaty as he wiped them on his jeans, and then you spun, ending up just inches away from him again. 
He couldn't speak, and maybe you took that as a bad sign. "It's too much," you said with a little laugh. "I know it's too much, but it was fun to try it on anyway. It made me feel sexy," you said with a little shrug, barely able to meet his eyes. "I think the black one might be better for dinner at the Boathouse? Or do you think this one?"
Jake snapped out of his daze and remembered why he was here, suddenly pissed that this little fashion show wasn't just for his own benefit. "Come on, Rodeo. Tinder Tommy? Really? You think he deserves this?" When you just kind of shrugged at him, he said, "Get the red one if you're just looking to get laid."
"Okay," you replied, your little pout back on your pretty lips. 
He pushed away from the wall until he was nearly touching you. Practically snarling, he said, "Are you just looking to get laid?"
"Maybe," you said softly, looking at his neck. "He's actually into me, so maybe. I don't know, Jake. It's been a long time since a guy chose me, you know?" He opened his mouth to tell you that any guy in the world would choose you when you said, "I have one more dress."
Then he had to stand there and watch the red fabric hit your feet before you guided the tiniest little green dress up your calves. He was jealous. He was so jealous. And the fact that he'd had a whole fucking year to ask you out instead of fucking wasting his time was crashing down on him right now. You were going to wear one of these dresses to the Boathouse tomorrow, and Tony was going to take it off you. He was going to fuck you, and then someday you'd probably get married. Jake would be at your wedding sitting between Mickey and Bradley and making himself sick over this whole thing. 
The door opened. You were stunning. You didn't even leave the fitting room doorway this time in that green dress that was hugging your tits and your waist and showing off so much leg that Jake thought he was going to black out. "I can tell by your face that it's not good," you said with a wince. "It's a little too low cut, so I couldn't imagine wearing it in front of Tony."
His voice came out low and rough as he said, "You're wearing it in front of me just fine."
"But I don't count, remember?" You closed and locked the door, and Jake was immediately leaning against it. Literally each dress was hotter than the one before it, and Jake didn't know how to articulate what he was feeling right now. How on earth did he end up so far in the friend zone that he couldn't claw his way out if he tried? What the fuck made Tinder Tony so special? Why were you looking around on the app anyway? He couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened, but you were never going to take him seriously, even if he knew he could be what you wanted.
The rustling of fabric and the sound of the zipper had him resting his forehead on the door. "Rodeo, Baby, you can't...buy one of these dresses. Not for Tony. Okay? Come on. He's not good enough for you."
"Oh." That was all you said. You just replied with one word, and Jake's blood was boiling. He wanted to dismantle the entire fitting room and take you back home and tell you that you could do a hell of a lot better than some lame ass dentist who didn't like beer or playing pool. But you'd just muttered one word, and he was dying to know if he could ever stand a chance at making you happy. 
"Rodeo?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You unlocked the door and he stepped back a few inches so you could open it, expecting to see you in your jeans once again with the dress of your choosing in your hands. "Oh, fuck," he groaned, his heart hammering in his chest. "Absolutely not!"
Jake pushed you back further into the fitting room and managed to wrench his broad shoulders through the doorway before kicking the door closed. You were biting your lip, your eyes wide as his hands came to rest on your lace covered hips. 
"Jake," you whispered as he shook his head at the sight of you in a lacy black bra and tiny underwear. 
"What the hell are you thinking?" he groaned, fingers digging gently into your warm body as he listened to the little sound you made. "You're killing me here." Your hands came up to his wrists before you slid them up along his arms, and Jake took a step closer until his jeans were brushing against your bare belly. He would need to be removed from the mall in a body bag at this rate. 
Then you whispered, "I like you. And maybe there's a chance that you like me, too? And maybe that's part of the reason I asked you to come here with me."
Jake swallowed hard as he leaned in, dizzy from the way you smelled so sweet and felt so perfect in his hands. "Dump him. Dump Tony." You whimpered at his words as he slid one hand down further, teasing the lace covering your ass at the same time his other hand went up to tug at the side of the bra. "Because this? This should be for me."
"Jake." Your voice was a needy whine as you scraped your fingernails along his shoulders and chest, trying to pull him closer. But he shook his head as he pushed you back harder against the wall, lips hovering over yours as you whispered his name.
He knew what he wanted. He'd known for a while, really, but now he was ready to take it. "I want to kiss you. But if I do, I'm not going to be able to go back, okay?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I won't go back to being Rodeo and Hangman, just friends. I will not do that. Not with you. Not when you count more than anyone else."
Your lips crashed against his, and Jake sighed in relief as he held you in his arms the way he'd been dying to for so long. The lingerie and all the little dresses were only for him. Your kisses and your smile and your fingers in his hair were for him, not Tony. He ran his hands down to your ass as you giggled and nipped at his lips. 
"Pick a dress, Baby," he muttered between kisses. "And we'll get the lingerie, too."
"Okay," you replied with a smile before you took his bottom lip between yours, making him moan. 
"Tomorrow night, I will take you out, and you can show me this little getup again if you want to."
You looked up at him with the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. "I want to."
---------------------------
You nudged Bradley with your elbow. "Hey, she's cute," you said, nodding toward the brunette across the aisle. "You guys should go talk to her." He and Mickey both leaned forward to look without any subtlety whatsoever, and you laughed. 
"Maybe at the end of the inning," Bradley replied, manspreading so much in his seat at the Padres game that he kept bumping your leg and nudging your shoulder. But he was grinning, and you could already tell that he and Mickey were about to turn it into a competition to see who could get her phone number first. 
But there was one key player missing from their game now, and you smiled as you saw Jake apologetically climbing over everyone else in your row before plopping down into the seat next to you and kissing your cheek with a smile. "The line was long as hell for your favorite beer," he said as he handed it to you. "Did I miss anything?"
You shook your head as Bradley said, "You're just in time to watch the real show, Hangman. Rodeo, I want you to time how long it takes before I get her number." 
But you weren't really listening as Bradley and Mickey started to argue, and neither was Jake as he kissed your cheek again. You didn't feel like you were simply blending in, and you didn't feel like you were just one of the guys anymore. You were grinning and sipping your beer as Jake's lips met your ear and he asked, "Are you wearing that black set right now?"
"I'll let you find out later.
---------------------------
Happy birthday, Alli! I hope you enjoyed the blonde one! Big thanks to @mak-32 @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for all your help!
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2K notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 10 months
Note
I’d love to see a jake seresin x secret wife au. The dagger squad doesn’t realize he’s married until Phoenix invites reader out to the bar with them! Thanks you’re the best!!
You're reminded just how little you know Natasha when she invites you out for drinks, and you end up at the bar adjacent to the naval base. You've been inside only once with Jake before, when you were still dating and he was going through training at top gun. Now he's a graduate, and the place brings back fond memories. You've chatted, of course, when she stops by for breakfast at the bakery you work for, but you've never discussed her career before.
"Hope you don't mind we're close to base," She grins, "My friends wanted to meet here, and I get free drinks 'cause the bartender likes me. They have this bell system to embarrass all the assholes here, and I think I ring it more than she does."
"I've been here before," You admit, tentatively grabbing her arm as she weaves through the crowd, "My husband and I came here once, a long time ago. I don't think the bartender was a woman, though."
"She just bought the place a few years ago," Natasha nods, sliding onto a stool at the bar, "Careful, don't put your phone on the bar."
You tuck the device safely away in your pocket as a brunette woman turns to you, a sweet smile on her face as she recognizes Natasha.
"Hey, Phe," She hums, and you don't have time to ask what the nickname means, "Brought a friend?"
"I'm Y/N," You introduce yourself, noting that they seem like close friends, "It's nice to meet you. I'm Penny."
You nod and beam at her when she offers you an identical bottle of beer to the one Natasha takes. You decline, though, ordering your usual instead. Jake's out with his friends tonight, but he's pledged to be a responsible drinker in case you need to be picked up from your girls' night.
"Can I get, uh," Natasha peers through the crowd, turning back when you assume she's found her target, "Five more?"
"Fanboy's got one already," Penny hums, taking four chilled bottles from beneath the counter, "You want help carrying them?"
"We're good!" You wrap one hand around two bottles, trusting Natasha to lead you towards her friends in the hectic crowd. You don't remember it being this busy when you'd come with Jake, maybe the new management really helped.
She treks you all the way over to a pool table along the wall, where a few men in jeans and t-shirts are huddled. You're taken by surprise, though you're not sure why. You'd automatically assumed her friends would be women, and you wonder if that's concerning. Possible internal bias aside, you smile at the men who stand to greet you.
"Hello," You wave, handing off beers to the two that meet you first,"I'm Y/N, you're Natasha's friends?"
"We are," A tall man grins, holding a hand out for you to shake now that it's not wrangling beers, "I'm Reuben. But you can call me Payback, if you want."
Natasha still has one of the beers in her hands, and you hear the man beside her, who she greets as Fanboy, mention something about the bathroom. Apparently you still have someone to meet.
You refocus on Reuben, "Payback," You tilt your head slightly to the side, "Is that a callsign? Are you a pilot?"
"We all are," The man who'd taken the other beer from you nods along with Payback, a burnt red mustache on his lip, "Natasha's is Phoenix. And I'm Rooster."
Your stomach drops.
"Wait, uh- Rooster? And- and Phoenix, and Payback," Your head spins slightly with recollections of Jake's crazy work stories, and you take a step back, "Are you- you're all stationed to this base?"
"Temporarily," Rooster frowns, "Hey, are you okay?"
"My husband-" You don't get the words out before he emerges from the bathroom, stopping dead in his tracks with a furrow in his brow that wrinkles his forehead.
"Darlin'?" He calls, just loud enough to be heard over the music.
"Jake?" You're equally incredulous, "I- these are the friends you're going out with?"
"Yeah, I-" He wanders closer, still at a general loss for words, "You know Phoenix?"
"Natasha gets breakfast at the bakery," You breathe, now that he's close enough to hear your dumbfounded murmur. You have an audience, but you don't care, not as Jake's confused expression melts into a sheepish smile.
"Well, small world. You look stunning tonight, honey."
"Thanks," You grin bashfully, keeping one hand on your drink and using the other to cup his cheek, tugging him down into a quick kiss. No matter how chaste it is, it gets a reaction.
"Oh," Fanboy gawps, "You're- her husband? You- Hangman, dude, you're married?"
"I am," Jake hums, ringing an arm around your waist and taking the beer from Natasha that she's too shock-stricken to hand to him. He pops the cap off on the edge of the pool table, bringing the fizzing mouth to his lips for a swig. He swallows, "Six years and counting."
"You're married to Hangman," Natasha- er, Phoenix repeats, "You married him?"
"Uh, I did," You laugh, twisting the ring on your finger.
"He never wears a ring," Rooster narrows his eyes at Jake accusatorily, "What, you're keeping her hidden away or something?"
"No," Jake scoffs, "It kept getting dirty when I was doing maintenance on my jet. I keep it on my dog tags, Bradshaw."
He brandishes the chain with both his ID and wedding band on it, and Rooster takes a swig of beer in response.
"How the hell was I supposed to know that, man? I don't stare at your chest in the locker room."
"Well you're missin' out," Jake drawls, turning to grin at you, "Ain't that right, honey?"
"Jake," You hiss, "Not here!'
"Oh, don't get all fussy. Most of these guys have seen my dick," He waves a dismissive hand in the air, nearly spilling his beer. You swear you hear someone mumble, 'unfortunately', but Jake drowns them out, "They don't care if we flirt. Hey, whaddya say we sharpen up those pool skills of yours?"
"Alright," You nod, letting him lead you over to the table, "Natasha, can you hold my drink?"
She takes it like it's her duty to protect you, even though your big strong husband has just bent you over the pool table. It takes you a few tries to be able to hit the ball at all with your clumsy grip on the cue, but when it finally cascades the colorful targets around the table, Jake whoops, landing a congratulatory smack to your ass that his friends groan at.
"Nice goin', darlin'. Gonna beat Bradshaw into the ground in no time."
4K notes · View notes
hangmanssunnies · 4 months
Text
The Hangman Special
Summary: On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.
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Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Word count: 7k
AO3 Link
Warnings: 18+ only, kissing, hot and heavy make-outs, exs, truth or dare, bad friends.
Author's note: Dreaming about kissing Jake in a bar. Thanks to everyone who looked at earlier drafts of this. I hope you enjoy this if you take a chance to read. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.
The bar is buzzing with the loud chatter of patrons, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of music. You are sitting at a corner table with your friends, a group with an eclectic mix of personalities. You are known for being more on the shy and reserved side, but tonight, you are even more withdrawn than usual. No one had mentioned that Tassie had also been invited to the evening's hang out at the bar. An oversight you felt was probably intentional since everyone knew Tassie had started dating your ex only a week after your breakup. She went so far as to post a picture of them together on her Instagram. It had been a few months since that happened, and until now, you had managed to avoid running into her. However, it seemed like luck had run out.
"Hey, I've got an idea that would spice up the night," Cece says after the first round of drinks. She is one of your bold and outspoken friends, and you aren't sure you like how she is eyeing you with a mischievous glint. "Let's play truth or dare." 
The whole group groans at the suggestion, and one of your friends vaguely wonders if you're all still in middle school playing that kind of game. Despite the initial lack of enthusiasm, after another round of drinks, the group is laughing and entrenched in the game. 
When Cece sings your name when she finishes her turn, you are nervous by the sly smile she is wearing as she formulates an option for you when you hesitantly concede to doing a dare. "You're the only one of us still single, so I dare you to go over to the bar and give somebody a kiss." 
"What?!" 
"Just a quick one, nothing too scandalous," Cece says placatingly. "Come on, live a little! It's just a bit of fun. What's the worst that could happen?"
"I bet they won't do it. They're too chicken for this kind of thing, not one to step out of their comfort zone," Tassie says. It makes your blood freeze in your veins because you know those words. You have heard that criticism thrown at you in the past, but not from her, from your ex. 
Your eyes narrow at her, and you ask, "Too chicken? Seriously?"
"Yeah. Please, prove us wrong. Show us you can do something spontaneous," Tassie taunts, grinning. You feel a surge of defiance welling up. Even though you're reserved, you are not one to back down from a challenge, especially not when the woman who cheated with your boyfriend is acting like you're the one who should be ashamed. Acting like she is better than you. 
"Fine, watch this," You declare, feeling hot with a mixture of embarrassment and determination. As you stand up, your friends exchange amused glances, convinced that you are about to back out of the dare. 
With absolutely no intention of  backing down, though, you scan the bar. After a moment of examination your heart soars because you realize you have this dare in the bag. You have the advantage even, because there is a familiar tall, broad-shouldered blonde at the bar that you know all too well. Jake Seresin, or Hangman, is one of your brother's best friends, and he is looking just as delectable tonight as he always does. The group would undeniably be impressed with you kissing someone so handsome, and you knew one way or another you could convince Jake to help you out. 
"Cece, I'll even let you pick since you made the dare. Point out the hottest man in the bar, and I'll kiss him." You say confidently. There is no doubt that Jake is the most attractive person there, and he is just Cece's type, too. She falls right into what you want, pointing Hangman out for you. The rest of your friend group hoots, making even more comments that you aren't going to follow through with the dare and approach someone who is that drop-dead gorgeous. 
Ignoring their taunts, you square your shoulders and walk with as much confidence as you can summon into sashaying across the bar. Putting mental effort into trying to project some form of hotness onto yourself not only for the confidence boost but also the bit of spite burning in you. 
Reaching the bartop area, the hesitation starts to set in as you admire Jake's profile. He is sitting on a bar stool leaning against the counter, patiently waiting for the bartender in the crowd that is starting to grow. Taking one last breath to steady yourself, you reach out and delicately set a hand on his bulging bicep. 
"Hangman!" You say brightly as if you're surprised to have run into him. Jake turns to face you at your touch, and an easy wide grin spreads across his face. 
"Fancy seeing you here, my dear! How are you?" He asks as his eyes trace you slowly from head to toe and back again, the grin on his face not slipping once. 
"Oh, I’m fine, and I am so glad I ran into you." 
"Most people are," Jake says, winking at you. You are nearly distracted by his handsome face and flirty tone. He looks like he has put on even more muscle since you saw him last. The green button-down he is wearing appears close to bursting at the seams with how it clings to him. "So, what have you been up to these days?" 
"Are you still single?" You blurt quickly, ignoring his question, not wanting to lose your steam. 
"Yes, Ma'am. Last I checked. Why?" 
"Perfect, can you do me a huge favor?" You ask. 
"I'm always happy to help out a friend," Jake says, sounding increasingly suspicious. The smile hasn't dropped from his face, but his eyes have narrowed slightly, examining you. 
Quickly standing on your tip toes, you loop an arm around Jake's neck, appreciating that he is sitting on a stool, helping level your height difference. Wasting no time, you pull him down to meet you in a quick kiss. Once his lips brush yours, you let go of him, stepping back, not even taking a moment to savor the feeling or enjoy having Jake this close. 
With your mission accomplished, you have every intention of making a hasty retreat back to your friends and hoping that you will be able to forget this. You are going to erase knowing you've kissed Jake Seresin from your brain, and then the next time you see him, you're going to pretend this fiasco never happened. It feels like the best and only course of action for you to take. 
However, you don't even get to make a full step away from Jake before large hands and thick arms circle around your waist, pulling you back towards him. He tugs until you are standing between his spread thighs, his hands maintaining their position on your waist. 
"Woah now, where do you think you're going?" He asks, eyes darting around your face, studying you closely. 
Embarrassment at having to explain your actions rushes through you, turning your stomach and overriding or maybe enhancing the butterflies there. You glance away from Jake towards your friends and see them watching with rapt attention. Then his thumb moves in a slow soothing circle, drawing you back towards him. 
"I'm sorry! My friends dared me to kiss someone at the bar, and when I saw you, well, I knew it wasn't a lost cause because you're not a complete stranger." 
You refuse to believe that the frown that flashes on Jake's face is one of disappointment. However, it's hard to ignore when his eyebrows are scrunched together, and his hands are so warm you feel it bleeding through your clothing. 
"You could at least buy someone a drink before stealing a kiss, you know. That's just some common decency." 
"I'm so sorry, Jake," you apologize again. "Let me buy you a beer for your troubles." 
"Naw, you don't got to." 
"Well, now I have to because you made me feel bad," you say, waving your arm to try and flag down a bartender. 
"I didn't take you for one to just kiss someone on a dare," he says conversationally. You try not to wriggle uncomfortably in his hold, but without even trying, he seems to have pulled you even closer. 
"I normally wouldn't be," you agree. "But the girl who I highly suspect of cheating with my ex while we were still together is here. I'm sure she thinks she's better than me and that I'm a boring prude."
"She clearly has never been around when you drink tequila," Jake laughs. You can't believe he would still remember the camping trip from years ago, where you were drinking tequila. Definitely notable because it was probably the last time you had dared have any of the liquor. 
"Can you please forget about that? And tonight, too?" You request. Jake pretends to think it over, humming lightly before shaking his head. 
"Sorry, no can do. It's already burned into my eidetic memory." You huff at his response, avoiding eye contact with him to try and catch sight of the bartender again. "You know, if you just asked me first, I would have given you the friends and family discount." 
"And what is that?" 
"Pretty similar to buy one get one free," he says, his voice dropping a little lower. Your mouth falls open in surprise, but you can't find any words. "Could have given you more than a quick peck, something that would really wow your friends." 
Trying very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss Jake would consider wowing, you decide to deflect. Jokingly saying, "Didn't think you were from one of those kinda southern states. Do you make a habit of kissing family members?" 
Jake throws his head back and laughs full-bellied at you. "The friends and family of my friends discount then," he amends. 
"I already hate being in this situation. I don't want more of a pity handout than I've already taken."
"Darlin," he sighs, shaking his head at you. "I would have even given you the Hangman special. Which is a deal, bargain, and steal. Comes with a kiss that's guaranteed to impress friends, people who cheated with your atrocious ex, everyone in this bar, and has even been known to, on occasion, inspire a standing ovation." 
"Ha.Ha. You're so funny," you say dryly, rolling your eyes. 
"I am, thank you for noticing," Jake says. "However, I think you deserve that kind of kiss to prove a point to your friends over there." 
"They didn't even think I would be able to make it over here to talk to you." You admit to him, glancing over at your friends again, a little displeased that they are still obviously observing your interaction.
"That them over there?" He asks, following the direction you're looking. You hum in acknowledgment. "Which one's the cheater?" He breathes, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, sending a shudder down your spine. 
You describe Tassie a bit to him, finding yourself shifting closer into his embrace, enjoying how he is somehow able to help most of the chaotic bar disappear from your senses. It's hard to think about the noise or the increasing number of people starting to press in when Jake's touching you. When he picks out who she is, Jake grunts a little. He lowers his face and nearly kisses your neck over the pulse point. His hot breath tickles the spot, causing shivers again as he declares, "I don't see the appeal." 
"Wish my ex felt that way," you sigh. 
"Fuck him," Jake says with conviction. Drawing a bit back from you to make eye contact again. His green eyes are clear, and in the dimmed mood light around you, they seem to shine even brighter than usual. 
"You sure you don't mind me having kissed you to prove a point?" 
"My dear," he laughs like you told him a funny joke. "I can't imagine a situation where I would mind you kissing me. Let alone one where I get to help you out." 
Sliding your hand up his chest to casually rest on his shoulder, you wonder, "Is the Hangman Special still available?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Guaranteed to be wowing?" You check. 
"Got a warranty for you and everything," Jake says lowly. 
Your hand curls around Jake's neck again, and you attempt to tug him closer to you. He doesn't even budge, though. One of his hands slowly traces up your side from your waist until he is cupping your cheek. Then Jake leans close, his breath ghosting over your lips, where he lingers for a moment. Your eyes flutter closed, and as soon as they do, his lips press to yours. This time, it's not a quick peck. 
He is slow and deliberate in how he kisses you. Tilting his head to the side to get a slightly better angle, Jake uses his hand on your face to urge your lips to align better with his. Pliable to his touch, you open your mouth to him, seeking even more, and rewarded when Jake's tongue brushes against your own. You never doubted that Jake would be a good kisser, but knowing firsthand is something you know you won't be able to erase from your memory. When the kiss starts to border on indecent, he pulls away. 
You linger in the moment, keeping your eyes closed until your heart doesn't feel like it's going to burst from your chest. While you are in that limbo spot, his thumb slowly strokes your cheekbone. Sea glass green is the first thing you see when opening them again, Jake not making any effort to veil how he is admiring you. His lips are slightly pinker now than they just were, and you can't help but imagine how pink and swollen they would get if you had the opportunity to get this man alone on a couch. 
Just as you consider requesting that he kiss you again, just to really really solidify how good you are to your friends, because obviously, three kisses are much better than the one they dared you to get, you are suddenly bumped from behind. The motion roughly shoves you against Jake's solid chest. Both his hands automatically return to your waist, tightening as he steadies you there. Glaring over your shoulder at whoever bumped you, he asks, "Are you okay?" 
"Yeah, I'm okay," you breathe. Being this close to him, the woodsy scent of his cologne tickles your nose. And you suddenly wonder why exactly he is in this upscale cocktail bar dressed so nicely. 
"I'm glad you decided to kiss me and not any of these other assholes," he mutters darkly, still glaring over your shoulder. 
"Well, it wasn't really a choice." You reveal, which has his eyes snapping back to you in an instant and a frown pulling at his lips. One of his thumbs that's resumed making circles on your waist stops, and the other falls off your waist entirely now. He doesn't move otherwise, but his presence feels less consuming. Tersely, he responds, "I see." 
"I may have skewed the odds. Told my friends to pick the hottest man they could find. What would you know? They picked you." You explain quickly.
"That's some good luck on your part." 
"It wasn't luck, not really."
"How do you mean?" He wonders. 
"I knew they would pick you." 
"What made you so confident?"
"Because, Jake, you are, hands down, the most attractive person here," you reveal to him shyly. Your fingers curling into his silky shirt, where they have found themselves on his chest after being pushed. 
"See now, I don't think that's true," he says, his eyebrows pulling together. The frown is gone though, the edges of his lips quirking up again. 
"Oh please, Jake. Do not pretend you don't know how handsome you are."
"I'm aware. However, that doesn't change the fact that you're the most attractive person in this bar tonight." 
"You're a flirt," you accuse him. 
"I am," he agrees with no argument. "But that don't make me dishonest or mean I'm not genuine. I haven't been flirting with you just for the sake of it." 
Warmth blooms in your center at his words, and you nearly forget all about trying to escape away from him. Right now, you just want to get closer, as close as he will let you. However, you are pulled out of the fantasy when you look away from Jake's intense gaze to see your friends and how most of the table seems shocked and scandalized. Wryly, you notice Cece giving you two thumbs up. It's like you could almost forget that this was just him being flirty and imagine he was kissing you for more than just helping prove a point. "Well, I appreciate your help with the Hangman Special. I know they will all be impressed and jealous when I head back over there." 
"Now, wait a moment. You can't just sneak away. The Hangman Special not only comes with mind-blowing kisses but also a free night out, all expenses paid, and dinner at any restaurant you choose. "
"You just give that away to any random person who asks?"
"No, only the pretty ones I've had my eye on for a long while," Jake says, his eyes intense, the hand still on your waist flexing tighter for a moment.
"You have?" You ask, completely surprised. 
"Yes, Ma'am," he replies with no hesitation. Before you can respond, the bartender finally makes his way over to you two, asking for your order. Jake instantly defers to you before ordering, asking, "What do you want, my dear?" 
"I thought I already told you I'm taking one of the Hangman specials." You say, after taking a moment to think it over. The grin that lights up Jake's face is sunny and bright, and if you weren't being supported by his strong body, you would have probably fallen over swooning. 
Turning back to the bartender, Jake requests two bottles of water and both of your tabs. As you peek over his shoulder while he signs, you see the bill consists of just one beer, the water, and the two drinks you've had tonight. 
"So you want the full experience?" He asks you when you've taken a sip of water, and he has downed half of his in the same time. 
"From what I know about you, Jake, I don't think you're someone who does things by halves," you answer, fiddling with one of the buttons on his silky green shirt. Then you are pushing a bit on his chest, trying to step away. When you do, Jake's hands find themselves on your hips again pulling you closer to him. 
"Where you going?" He pouts. 
"I just need to grab my purse." 
"Whatcha you need your purse for, sweetheart? Don't you know I ain't going to let you pay for nothing?" Jake drawls. 
"I'm sure you want that to come off gentlemanly, but you're close to flirting with misogynistic." You say, playfully poking a finger into his chest.
"No." Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips, Jake brushes a kiss on your pulse point, saying, "I know exactly who I'm flirting with, and that is you, my dear." 
The laugh you let out is slightly involuntary, but it makes Jake look like he won a prize, so you can't be too displeased, especially not when he has resumed drawing circles on your skin, and it feels like some sort of hypnosis you never want to end. "I'll be right back, and you can keep flirting with me for as long as you like." 
"That a promise?" Jake asks.
"Sure thing," you agree, but Jake still hasn't let go of you. 
"Do you want some company?" 
"You don't have to." 
"Little worried you're going to try and sneak away," he admits. 
"But Jake, I am sneaking away," you say in a fake whisper as if sharing a secret. "Sneaking away with you from my friends and this bar." It makes him smile again, just like you were hoping it would. "Just wait here for me. Okay?"
"Okay," he reluctantly agrees. Despite agreeing, the hold he has on your hand actually slightly tightens. "One more kiss?"
"I'm starting to get the feeling that you're always going to want one more kiss."
"You already know me so well," Jake grins. You press your lips against his again in a quick kiss, careful not to get caught up in it, before slipping out of his grasp. When free, you practically skip away from Jake to grab your things. 
Arriving back to your friends, you're greeted with loud whooping and even some clapping thrown in. Cece is practically giggling as she says, "I really didn't think you had that in you." 
"What were you talking about for so long?" Another one of the group asks.
"Was that kiss as hot as he is?" Someone else wonders, and then questions are coming from every direction before you can answer any of them. 
"It was great, he's great." You manage to get in. When they start to flood you with even more questions, you cut them off. "I would love to talk all about it, but I'm sorry y'all, I'm actually just over here to grab my purse." 
"There is no way you are leaving with that guy," Tassie says incredulously. 
Irritation and anger flares up in you as you turn to glare at her. "Really, there's no way? And why would that be Tassie?" 
"Come on," she says, clearly surprised that you've decided to call her out. "You're just not the kind of person to go home with someone from the bar, and he doesn't really seem like your type." 
"I don't know how tall, handsome, funny, and phenomenal kisser could not be someone's type," You say harshly, snatching your purse and jacket from where you had been sitting. 
"I'm just trying to look out for you," she responds sharply. 
"I don't think that's true," you snap back. 
"Hey now, why don't we all chill out," your friend Marv cuts in placatingly. 
"Sorry to interrupt," a familiar southern drawl says from behind as a warm arm wraps around your shoulder. You nearly sag into Jake. The urge to explode on your friends, more specifically Tassie, instantly absorbed by his presence. "But I was promised I could take this one out on a date tonight." 
"We can't let our friend just leave with a stranger," Cece says, and you turn to narrow your eyes at her, frowning that she is butting in when she is the one who set all this into motion in the first place. 
"While I respect that, I don't think you get to make that decision," Jake says lightly and a lot nicer than you would have in that moment. 
"You could be a crazy serial killer or something," Tassie says. 
"While I am a killer, that's normally just how people describe me in bed," he answers in a flirty, exaggerated way. That has you nearly coughing, you suck in air so hard. He gently pats your back and continues on. "If you're really worried though, you can look me up on Instagram. That's at LT.H_ANGM_N. I hope y'all have a good night. I know we will be," Jake punctuates the sentence with a kiss to the side of your head. 
Stuck between laughing and balking you glance around at everyone’s surprised faces at Jake’s boldness. You know exactly what Jake's last Instagram post was, having spent several minutes the other day debating whether you should like the shirtless picture of him on the beach. 
"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Jake asks you, practically muttering the words in your ear. All he needs is your nod before he confidently starts to turn you and lead you out the door. You manage to throw your friends a small wave goodbye, but it only takes a few steps for them to be out of your mind. 
"Did you drive?" Jake asks you as the fresh evening air rushes over you both. 
"No.” And you’re glad you didn’t when it means Hangman will be driving you home.  
"Good," he grins, "do you mind me driving?" 
"I don't," you answer easily, completely content to follow Jake to wherever he is going to lead you. 
He stops in front of a Jeep Gladiator, and you aren't overly surprised by his taste in vehicles. He goes to open the passenger side door for you, but you don't immediately take his offered hand to get inside. Instead, you tug it as you lean against the side of the truck. Jake follows the motion easily, not hesitating to bend down and mold his lips to yours. 
Jake looms over you, one of his hands balancing his weight against the side of the truck just over your head. The other on your side pulling you a bit closer to him. Looping your arm around his neck for some leverage, you let Jake take over your senses. The softness of his tongue paired with how he nibbles at your lower lip pulls a little whine from you.
When you have to pull away for a ragged breath, Jake groans low in his throat as you press teasing kisses down the column of his neck to the V of skin his shirt shows off. The hand on your waist slides up to cup your cheek and pulls you back to his lips. Kissing Jake is easy, he doesn't leave enough room for you to question if he's enjoying it. Nor do you have the capacity to overthink it as Jake's lips move surely and confidently with your own. All there is is him, his warm strong body, soft lips, and the calluses of his fingers. 
Leaning backward, you pull Jake with you wanting to have him pressed flush because even though you're tasting him, caged in, surrounded by him it still isn't close enough. However, the motion presses one of the Jeep’s jutting door hinges sharply into your back. You can't help but gasp a small "ow" as you try to shift. Concern creases Jake's features, and he pulls you away from his truck into his chest, glowering at the vehicle as if it had somehow betrayed him. 
"You okay, darlin?" He asks, his hands tracing down your back checking for injury. You lean more into his chest even though you don't really need the support, it's just nice to be in his arms. 
"I'm fine," you reassure him. 
"Let's get you out of harms way." He says pulling open the passenger side door. As you start to heave yourself into the tall truck Jake is practically picking you up and easily setting you in the seat. You blink at him in surprise at his show of strength. He remains there, standing in the open door, leaning closer and placing his hand just above your knee, his thumb drawing circles there. Then he asks, "So, where would you like to grab some dinner, my dear?" 
"I've heard of this really great restaurant I've been dying to go to."
"Yeah? Let's make it happen then." 
"Mhmm," you hum in confirmation. "It's called Hangman's House." 
Jake's thumb immediately stops moving and the smile on his face seems to shift. The genuine glint there slipping away, to something hard for you to really identify, practiced or guarded. Whatever the change was you don't find yourself liking it and immediately wonder where you misstepped. 
"So, Hangman's House, that's a pretty exclusive place. They don't usually do unplanned reservations," Jake says after what's nearly an awkward silence. 
"That's too bad. I heard that they have great service." You say a little dejected but glad he told you no in a casual manner that you can play off. 
"You're in luck though, my dear, because I know the owner. I think he would be willing to make an exception for us sometime, but they are better known for their breakfast menu." Jake responds upbeat again. 
"I like breakfast." You mutter in what you think is a flirty way. However, it's obvious that you've missed the mark when Jake's hand drops off your leg completely now. 
"Listen, if this is just a one-night thing, just some making out and fun stuff, where you are going to leave in the morning and pretend it never happened next time we see each other," he says seriously. Pausing, he runs a hand through his hair taking a measured breath, and you watch as the muscle in his jaw flexes. "That's fine, but I need to know it now." 
As you study his face intently it occurs to you that maybe even men like Jake Seresin have insecurities. Maybe he was used to interacting with people where more often than not they only saw him as a handsome face with a nice body. People who were ready to leave the next morning. The realization that a one night stand isn’t the series of events he is interested in with regards to you twists a pit of uncertainty in your stomach. You feel a little uneasy not sure exactly where you stand or what he wants with you. 
Reaching to catch Jake's lost hand and tangling your fingers, you start playing with the big class ring he is wearing. He allows the movement and relaxes his hand further, giving you additional leeway. The distraction of Jake's fingers gives you the courage to say, "I guess maybe I misunderstood that this was going to just be a nice fun night with you. Is that not what you were looking for?" 
"I do want that," Jake says adamantly. " However, I don't just want that." 
"What do you mean?" 
"I want to bring you flowers, dance with you, write you love letters. I want to explore every inch of your body and heart until I know what makes you tick. I want you to forget that any other man besides me even exists." Jake presses himself close to you again, and he turns his hand to thread your fingers tightly together. "Now I'm good, and I mean really good my dear, but those aren't goals I can make happen in one evening. So I want to start with tonight, taking you out and giving you a good time. And then I want to do the same thing tomorrow or whenever you have free time. I want to do that for as long as you will let me." 
"Oh wow," you breathe, taken aback by his declaration. "That's kind of a lot." 
"I know, but I don't want my intentions to be unclear. I wasn't lying when I said I've had my eye on you for a while. I'm happy to go at whatever pace you need; I'll do whatever you want. However, if this was all just getting back at your ex and proving a point. If you can't see yourself wanting anything more with me past tonight again, I need to know." Now, Jake takes his turn playing with your fingers as he breaks eye contact to stare at where you're intertwined. "I'll happily let you break my heart, but I don't want to be blindsided by it. 
Surging forward, you pull Jake in to kiss you again. It's an awkward angle, and the way the truck makes you taller than him feels odd. However, none of that matters when his lips are so pliable against yours. 
"I don't want to break your heart," you tell him between kisses. "I want to go on dates with you, and I want to go home with you. I want to go to bed with you and do it more than once if we find out we are compatible." 
"Are you doubting our compatibility?" Jake asks, raising an eyebrow. 
"Not really, but you know it's better to make sure with these things. Have to double check, I think." 
"That makes sense," he concedes. 
"Now let's get some food so you can take me home and then to bed. Show me these killer skills you mentioned earlier." 
"We can do a lot tonight, but we can't sleep together," Jake says mournfully.
"Why not?" You ask confused. 
"Everyone knows you don't sleep together until the third date," Jake drawls.
"That's a cliche. Plus, why does it really matter?" 
"Because I've been dreaming about forever with you, and when you want forever with someone, you don't want to skip any steps." Jake answers, dead serious and earnestly. It makes you wish you weren't in such an awkward position in the truck. If you were still outside pressed against it, or in the bar even, it would be so much easier to show him the appreciation and affection burning inside. 
"We've got to be somewhere near the third date by now. We have tonight and that camping trip we went on. Oh, and that one time that everyone went bowling. Plus, there was that bonfire a few months ago!" You say, trying to think of occasions you and Jake had spent a good amount of time together. While considering it, you also realize he has nearly always gravitated to your side during group interactions, and going off tonight, that clearly wasn't as coincidental as you had previously thought. 
"You deserve real dates," Jake responds with conviction, and the look in his eye really isn't something you can or even want to argue with. There isn't anything wrong with someone wanting to act like a gentleman with you; it's actually flattering, especially when it's clear Jake isn't going to play any guessing games with you concerning his feelings. 
"Well, then we are wasting time when we could be on our first date," you say, pressing another peck to his lips and lightly pushing him away from you. 
"One last kiss," Jake whispers as he lurches close again for another peck. Then, he gently closes your door and jogs over to the driver's seat, asking where you want to get a bite to eat. 
The two of you end up at a fancy Italian restaurant where you share an appetizer, bottle of wine, and dessert. During dessert, Jake insists you pose for a picture. Despite your initial resistance, he convinces you, and then, nearly as soon as he takes it, your phone lights up with a notification telling you that you’ve tagged you in his story. He tells you before you even ask that he hopes your friends looked him up on Instagram but requests that you repost it on your own just in case they didn't. He claimed it's so they know he's not kidnapped you, but you suspect that it's more likely he wants to prove a point. And it's something you don't mind one bit, especially when he easily lets you post a picture of him on your own story. 
After the restaurant, Jake drives you both out of town a bit to where the sky is much clearer and the stars are visible. The evening isn't warm enough to cuddle in the truck bed like he wanted, so instead, you end up in the backseat with the moon roof completely rolled back. You manage to pretend to be looking at the stars for about three whole minutes before crawlingl into Jake's lap to kiss him. 
Before the making out can get too heated, Jake grips your chin, urging your face upwards to look through the moonroof. Gruffly, he mutters into your ear, telling you to behave. Words that only make you squirm in your newfound place sitting on his lap. He lets you stay there, though, his hands steady on your hips, and his lips leisurely brushing yours or your neck whenever inspiration strikes. 
"What were you doing out tonight looking so nice?" You wonder absentmindedly, unbuttoning the top button of Jake's shirt. It's not with an ulterior motive. Really, it's because Jake's shirt is so soft, and the top of it is hiding his dog tags from you, which you have suddenly decided is unacceptable. The new skin exposed to you is just an added benefit. 
"Ah, nothing to worry about darlin'." 
"Common, you can tell me," you say, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. 
"You know, whinnies?" 
It takes you a moment to place the restaurant and remember that it's across the street from the bar where you met up with your friends. "The wine bar?" 
"Yeah," Jake confirms. "Well, I was on a date there." 
"Oh." When Jake doesn't say anything, you decide you have to push the conversation forward. "So, what happened to your date? Were they not nice?"
"No, she was real sweet," Jake says, and you feel your stomach drop as if you aren't in the back of his truck and sitting in his lap right now.
"So why did you end up at Gem's?" 
"I was checking Instagram before she got there, and I saw you post that you were at Gems, right across the street. And no matter how nice she was, I knew it wasn't fair that I was thinking of a different person the whole time. So, we didn't even make it through appetizers before I had to be honest with her about that, and then I swung by Gems, hoping I would bump into you." 
"You were at the bar just to see me?"
"Sure was. So imagine my surprise when you found and approached me first."
"How would it have gone if you had approached me first?" You wonder. 
"For one, I would have offered to buy you a drink before stealing a kiss," Jake says teasingly. 
"You're not going to let that go, are you?" 
"Probably not for a while," he tells you. You groan and hide your face in his neck as if that will save you from some of the embarrassment. Feeling his chuckles in his throat and rumble in his chest is soothing, and you pepper more kisses to his neck and collarbone as if you were tracing the sound.
"You wouldn't have left without a kiss, though?" 
"I wouldn't have left without seeing you, and I would have done everything to try and convince you to give me one," Jake promises. 
"How would you have kissed me for the first time?" 
"Are you asking for another demonstration?" he wonders. As soon as you nod in affirmation, he pulls you close, repositioning you on his lap so you're straddling him. The darkness of the truck makes it so you can't quite see how green his eyes are, despite that they are still somehow bright.  He holds eye contact with you for a long moment. His hand cups your cheek, and like earlier in the night, he pauses, not closing the gap, observing you close. When you try to lean forward and seal your lips, he backs his head away. Then he chastises you while wearing a smirk, "I'm goin' to kiss you, baby. Now, let me do it how I want." 
Anticipation tingles in you as Jake leans close; however, at the last minute, he swerves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then the other cheek, your forehead, and your nose. Finally, his lips meet yours firmly. Closing your eyes, you sigh into the kiss. The feeling of being intimately connected to Jake again is nearly the same as relief. When your mouth opens, Jake licks into you, searching out your tongue with his own. 
There no longer seems to be any will in Jake to tamper down the heat of your kissing. He allows you each time you push the envelope of the moment being just the soft sweet first date kissing he initially claimed to want. As he sucks on the sweet spot, her discovers on your neck, the way you grind downwards is involuntary and completely by accident. A low moan comes from Jake, and you like the way it sounds. So, the next time you grind down on him, it's completely intentional. 
The dark slacks he is wearing don't do much to conceal his hardened length. After a few more rolls of your hips, Jake's hands tightly grip your waist helping you grind against him. He urges you into a rhythm that has whimpers, moans, and gasps passing from both your mouths between hot kisses. As you try to speed up, frantic lust beating so loud you can hear it in your ear, he doesn't let you. Though you are on top of him, there is no doubt that Jake is in complete control. 
Just from this night, it's not difficult to imagine how he will be in the bedroom. Strong,  consuming, and in control. You can picture how he will confidently lead you exactly where you want to go, and you will get there because just a back of the car's make-out shouldn’t cause someone to be as turned on as you are right now. You unbutton his shirt and let your hands roam over his chest. Dragging your nails along his abs causes a full body shudder and Jake to grip your ass so hard you think you might bruise. It doesn't bother you, though, because how can anything that gets you closer to his cock be a bad thing? 
“Jake,” you say in a sudden moment of clarity. He hums his acknowledgment but keeps kissing at your neck and squeezing at your ass. A particularly hard thrust upwards from him nearly has your brain going fuzzy as you desperately try to hold yourself together.  “Jake,” you repeat more forcefully, “we need to stop.” 
“What’s wrong?” He asks concerned, detaching his lips from your skin and losing his hold so he is barely touching you. 
“If we keep at this I'm going to beg you to fuck me right here right now,” you answer. He makes a strangled groan. With his swollen lips, lust filled eyes, and hard dick you're sure he wouldn't actually mind. “Which would be amazing but you told me about a three date rule and I agreed.” 
“I did say three dates,” he responds and looks like he hates himself for it. 
“But if it doesn't actually matter I would like to suck your cock at least once before we fuck.” You boldly tell him, twisting his dog tags in your fingers pulling them taut against Jake’s neck until the release beads give away. The chain falls into your grasp, and you use the warm metal to distract yourself. 
“Fuck me,” he breathes throwing an arm over his eyes and leaning back. “You're perfect, you know that?” 
“I'm not.” 
“You are. So perfect, so hot.” He kisses you like he's about to ignore what you just said. Hot and a little sloppy with tongue and a bit at your lower lip. When he pulls away he rests his forehead against yours saying, “We are going to stop now  because I don't want there to ever be a doubt in your mind that I'll keep the promises I make to you.”
Your stomach flips with affection, and you sag, leaning heavily into Jake, just hugging him tightly, waiting for the lust that's sparked to cool. The two of you even manage to get some actual stargazing in where hands roam but in more so in an exploratory way than sexual. 
Holding hands driving back into the city you can’t stop staring at Jake’s profile, or admiring his fingers or tracing the veins of his forearms. You are focusing on trying to convince yourself that this isn’t a dream, you're definitely going to wake up with hickies in the morning, and another date with Jake Seresin scheduled tomorrow. It’s something that if you had been told at the start of your evening, you would have laughed at the absurdity of the idea. 
"I know it's really soon, but do you think that if you asked me again in a few weeks if I'm still single, we'll be able to change my answer?" Jake asks you after a bit breaking the comfortable silence you two had been in. 
"I think that's possible. What do you think about that?" You wonder. 
"I would change my answer tonight if you wanted me to."
"Jake..."
"Listen, I really like you, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. So as soon as you give me the okay, I will bring you flowers with a promise ring and ask if you want to go steady with me." Jake's thumb rubs along your pulse affectionately, "I'll change my Facebook relationship status. I'll get a nice little charm with your name on it for my dog tags. I'll take you to meet my friends and brag about how amazing you are." Jake leans over at a red light to press a soft kiss to your lips. "The whole shebang." 
"That sounds nice. Does that deal have a special name, too?" 
"Yeah, we can call it the Jake special. It is a whole package, long-term, all-inclusive deal." 
"Extended warranty?" You check jokingly.
"It actually has a no-return, no-refund policy," Jake answers.
"That's a pretty big commitment," you whisper back, even though the idea of keeping Jake all to yourself sounds nothing but appealing. 
"It's not something that expires. So how about tonight, we just worry about getting you home where you're going to let me walk you to your front door and give you a kiss goodnight."
"Just one kiss?" You ask in a pretend pout. 
"Let's shoot for two, but don't be surprised if it's three, maybe even four." 
"I want five," you declare stubbornly.
"Then I'll give you six," he easily offers. 
You try to hide your smile but don't quite manage it. It's a permanent fixture the whole drive home and during all seven of the goodnight kisses you get. They aren't the best kisses in the world because Jake is smiling through them, too. It's okay, though, because you both know there's going to be more in the future, a lot more. 
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tongue-like-a-razor · 4 months
Text
Brother's Best Friend - Part 11
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
A/N: Fair warning: I didn't have much time this week so this was a bit rushed and definitely not my best piece of work, but I really wanted to do at least *something* for the holidays!
Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.
CW: New Years Eve party, banter, fluff fluff fluff
WC: ~2300
Part 1 | Masterlist
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“So,” Bradley starts slowly, drawing out a suspenseful silence with a smirk as he butters his toast. “I met study group guy.”
You look up from your plate in alarm, your fork halfway to your mouth, and awkwardly meet your brother’s gaze.
Jake, who’s just set his food down to your left, picks his coffee back up, ready to make a quick exit.
“Uh, where?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but you’re so nervous that your voice wavers.
“Here,” Bradley replies with a grin as he makes his way to the table. “He came by to see how your exam went.”
“Oh?” You gulp anxiously.
“How considerate of him,” Jake notes moodily, setting his coffee back down and giving you a look.
“I agree.” Bradley sits down. “I think he wanted to compare study strategies,” he continues, then clears his throat. “Since the two of you didn’t end up studying together.”
Jake’s eyes go wide as he lets out a feigned gasp. “You didn’t?”
You give Jake an annoyed look and then glance back at your brother who is watching you with a pair of raised eyebrows. “Yeah,” you nod, “about that. Umm, the thing is…”
“You lied?” Jake brings a hand to his chest as though this revelation continues to shock him.
You glare at him irritably. “Partly.”
“Which part?” Bradley enquires, biting into his toast.
You sigh. “The part about study group guy.”
Bradley grimaces. “Why?”
“Yeah,” Jake chimes in, finally taking a seat. “Why?”
“Because I obviously made the wrong decision studying at home,” you retort, eyeing Jake bitterly. “And I just needed somebody to blame.”
Jake watches you cautiously, likely wondering if you indeed think you’ve made a mistake. Good.
“So, you bombed your midterm, big deal.” Bradley waves a hand. “We wouldn’t judge you. Guess that means he won’t be attending tonight’s party.”
You purse your lips. “Nope,” you confirm. “I’ll be all alone.”
Jake tries to catch your gaze as you rise from the table. “We’ll be here.”
“Aren’t you gonna bring your girl?” Bradley asks.
“Nah.” Jake waves a hand.
“Why not?”
Jake eyes you pointedly. “Not really sure where we stand, to be honest.”
You gasp theatrically. “Oh dear! Trouble in paradise?”
Jake throws you a flat look and grumbles, “Well, she’s sort of hard to read at times.”
“Because you’re illiterate?” you retort.
Bradley snorts while Jake scoffs in offence. “Dump her!” Bradley cries as you bring your dishes to the sink. “Life’s too short for mysteries.”
Jake sighs. “She does love to keep me guessing.”
Bradley shakes his head in disapproval after taking his last bite. “She’s playing games with you, man. It’s not worth it.” He gets up and follows you to the sink. “How ‘bout you? You need a date for tonight?”
“Huh?” you say in surprise, having been under the impression that your turn under the microscope was over.
“Remember that dude you met at the Hard Deck last summer? The one you said was ‘so hot’” – Bradley visibly shudders – “I just found out that he’s into you.”
“What dude?” Jake asks abruptly, his posture instantly going rigid.
“The one from 22,” Bradley clarifies. “The backseater. Forgot his name.”
“The douche from Michigan?” Jake makes a face and quickly rises from the table. “You think he’s hot?” he asks you incredulously.
Before you have a chance to respond, Bradley continues. “Apparently he ran into you last week at the café?”
You blink between Bradley and Jake as the latter approaches. While it’s true that you saw one of Bradley’s colleagues the previous week, you’ve since forgotten all about that encounter, because the very next day was when Jake had finally made his move. You start to back out of the kitchen but both Bradley and Jake follow you out. “I have some errands to run,” you say quickly.
“Nothing’s open,” Jake reminds you.
“Do you want me to invite him tonight or not?” Bradley asks, already scrolling through his contacts.
Jake elbows Bradley aggressively. “You’re seriously trying to get your sister laid?”
Bradley cringes. “Dude! Don’t go there!”
Jake stares at Bradley. “What do you think is gonna happen?”
You scoff at Jake incredulously. “Excuse me?”
Jake turns to look at you and places his hands on his hips with an impatient exhale. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I just don’t want her to be alone on New Years!” Bradley exclaims, still looking down at his phone.
“She’s not gonna be!” Jake cries desperately.
“I don’t want the date, Bradley,” you say, putting on your shoes despite having absolutely nowhere to go.
“Why not?” Bradley enquires.
“I just don’t. I’m fine with being alone.”
“You won’t be alone,” Jake repeats, the frustration in his voice noticeably mounting.
“I thought you liked him,” Bradley says, slightly deflated. Clearly, he assumed that he was doing you a favor.
“I don’t even know him,” you say. “I just thought he was good-looking, that’s all.”
Jake makes a face. “He’s not.”
You roll your eyes. “Appearance is subjective.”
Jake stubbornly shakes his head but makes no further comment.
“Okay, so why not give him a chance?” Bradley presses. “It’s not like you’re seeing someone. Right?”
You give Jake a quick glance before conducting a thorough examination of your own shoes. “Well, kind of.”
“Kind of?” Jake asks, slightly panicked.
You continue studying your feet. “I think.”
“Who is he? What’s he like?” Bradley asks.
“Uh,” you stall, “he’s alright.”
Jake lets out a muffled cry. “Alright?” he asks and you try not to wince at his utterly obvious outrage.
Meanwhile, Bradley raises an eyebrow. “Wow,” he says wryly. “Sounds promising.”
“What else?” Jake says quickly.
You look up at him in disbelief. “Occasionally aggravating.”
Bradley appears puzzled. “Why are you with this guy?”
Jake squares his shoulders. “He must be extremely handsome.”
Bradley looks back at you. “Is he?”
You roll your eyes. “He’s cute.”
“Cute?!” Jake exclaims.
Bradley laughs. “I really think you should give my guy a try.”
Jake crosses his arms over his chest and stands up taller. “I’m sure there’s more to this guy than just… his looks.” He’s blatantly searching your face now, as if Bradley isn’t even present.
You start to nervously fix your hair in the mirror at the front door. “I’m not interested in your guy, Bradley.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” You sigh resignedly while Jake watches your reflection. “I… I like my guy.”
Jake stares at your face in the mirror as if this is news to him. Then, his mouth slips momentarily into a smile before he sucks in his cheeks to hide it.
Bradley grimaces. “Why?”
“Because, he’s…” another reluctant sigh, “…he’s a good guy.”
“That’s kind of vague,” Jake comments, still trying to suppress a grin.
You shoot him a glare while Bradley chuckles. Then, he says, “Alright, fine. Maybe in a couple of weeks when you’re single again.”
Jake looks at Bradley sharply. “Why would she be single again?”
“Come on, when was the last time my sister liked a guy enough to stay with him long-term? She finds something wrong with everyone she dates.”
Jake shifts his weight uncomfortably. “Maybe this one will stick.”
“Doubt it.” Bradley shrugs.
“This one’s different, Bradley,” you say quietly, turning to face them again.
Jake looks back at you. “He is?”
“How so?” Bradley asks.
You pause, hesitant to reveal the truth. “He… makes me feel…”
Bradley watches you dubiously. “Pretty?”
Jake also takes a stab: “Aroused?”
You let out a weary sigh and lock eyes with Jake. “Safe.”
He stares at you with a stunned expression while Bradley nods approvingly.
“Happy,” you continue.
This time, Jake doesn’t hide his smile, but Bradley raises his eyebrows as though your response has surprised him.
“Strong,” you say.
“Wow,” Bradley mutters.
Jake lowers his gaze with a grin, but you decide to add, “And aroused, I mean –”
“Oh god!” Bradley exclaims.
Jake chuckles, glancing up at you again.
Bradley shakes his head. “I get it, you’re in love. But, Seresin – I just remembered: I’ve got the perfect girl for you!” He holds up his phone, beaming.
Bradley decides to invite the perfect girl just in case because he can see how much his dear friend has suffered at the hands of his mysterious lover. And the perfect girl just happens to be Jake Seresin’s exact type. You try to ignore her flirtatious behavior while Bradley all but pushes Jake in her direction. Your brother seems so keen to set Jake up, you start to wonder what his vested interest might be.
There are enough people in attendance that you can watch Jake without worrying about anyone noticing that you’re staring. So, you pour yourself a fourth martini and head back into the living room to see what your brother’s best friend is up to. You barely make it past the couch, however, when someone you’ve only met once in your life takes your hand and starts encouraging you to spin under his arm.
You glance over at Jake, whose date is also trying to get him to dance. Taking a sizeable gulp of your drink, you follow through with the spin and smile uncomfortably at your new dance partner. The room is bustling because the ball is about to drop and everyone has gathered for the countdown, so you’re forced to crane your neck every so often in order to check on Jake.
He notices your new friend right away, locking eyes with you despite his own supposed date trying to monopolize his attention. You wish you could steal a moment with him when the new year arrives, but Bradley would notice his friend’s absence in a heartbeat considering he’s been tailing Jake all night, making sure that he was having a good time.
When the champagne flutes start making their rounds and the crowd erupts in an enthusiastic countdown, however, Jake separates from his friends and starts making his way through the bodies toward you. He nods his head in the direction of the hall before he’s even come near you, inviting you to join him. But you glance back at Bradley and see that he is already searching for Jake in the crowd that’s suddenly doubled in size as everyone has made their way into the living room.
You shake your head at Jake regrettably. The last thing you need is for the year to start with Bradley walking in on the two of you making out.
Jake gestures more vigorously with his head, urging you to follow and, when you refuse, he moves closer and reaches out to grab your hand. You don’t resist when he pulls you in and, before you can check to see if Bradley has finally given up his search, the clock strikes midnight, and Jake takes your face in his hands and kisses you right there in the middle of the living room amidst the explosion of cheers that welcome the new year.
You hope there is enough commotion in your vicinity to obscure the way Jake’s hands slide sensually down to your neck and then take your shoulders as he steers you through the crowd out of the room, his lips avidly devouring yours the entire time. Somehow, the two of you make it out without even looking up and, once you’re more or less alone, Jake mutters, “Your brother is getting real fucking annoying.”
You chuckle as he plants kisses along your jawline. The two of you are still moving through the house, into the darkness of the entry hall. “He’s been extra involved today,” you agree.
“He’s been fucking annoying,” Jake repeats, sucking on the side of your neck as you come to a halt in the foyer and he wraps his arms around you.
“He’s your best friend,” you remind him.
Jake presses you gently against the front door and licks your earlobe, whispering, “Who the fuck were you dancing with?” You giggle and feel his lips spread into a smile against your skin. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” he asks, and you feel his tongue on your ear again. “You think it’s funny that I had to actively restrain myself from socking him?”
“What about you?” you say, still laughing. “You were with that girl all night!”
Jake whimpers into your neck and his hold on you tightens. “All I wanted was this.” You close your eyes when his mouth finds yours once more. “My new year’s resolution is that I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” he mutters between pecks to your lips.
You giggle again and then sigh, slightly pushing him away. “What are we going to do?”
“I just told you what I’m going to do,” he says, going in for another kiss.
You turn your head and he ends up kissing your cheek. “This is how we’re going to spend the new year? Sneaking around? Hiding in dark corners?”
Jake exhales slowly, resting his forehead on your temple. “I’m going to tell him,” he assures you.
“What are you going to tell him?” you ask, hoping that this question might lead Jake to reveal the nature of your relationship as he sees it.
He leans away from you and looks you in the eye. “That I make you feel aroused, of course.” Your jaw drops in outrage and you let out a yelp that quickly turns into a cackle. Jake is grinning widely, pleased with the effectiveness of his joke. Then, he draws you closer and his face changes shape. He squares his jaw and you see the evidence of a nervous gulp in the bob of his Adam’s apple. “I’m gonna tell him that you’re the girl I told him about,” he says, his tone low but steady. You gaze at him in silence, afraid to move a muscle lest he reconsider the sudden sincerity of his words. “The one I can’t stop talking about.” He swallows again. “The one I’ve been obsessing over.” He pauses to study your reaction as though he’s afraid he might be scaring you off. “The one that I – uh” – he takes a deep breath and then lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. He takes your hands in his and weaves his fingers through yours, tugging you forward until his lips connect with the tip of your nose. “Oh god, Baby B,” he says, leaning into you affectionately. “I should probably stop talking now.”
*That's all folks! Happy New Year!*
Read Part 12
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bussyslayer333 · 1 year
Text
it’s all about you
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summary: 4 times Jake thought about marrying you and the 1 time he did.
pairing: jake seresin x girlfriend!reader
word count: 5.9k
warnings: allusions to smut throughout, mentions of alcohol, swearing, jake being whipped!! MDNI 18+
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1.
“Cookies or Brownies?” you hum, rifling through your kitchen cupboards.
“Cookies, we’re not monsters babe.” Jake replies seriously from where he’s stood behind you, checking out your ass.
You snap back up with a cheer and the brown sugar you were looking for in tow. Jake quickly diverts his gaze in favour of not getting caught and decides that your fridge magnets are suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.
His intense inspection of the little windmill stuck to your fridge has you snorting, quickly turned into a squeal when Jake pats your behind with a little more force than intended.
“Jake!”
“What?” He spins around as if to look for someone else who could have committed the offending action.
“You’re stupid.” You giggle, jutting your hip out to hit his own.
Jake reciprocates the action before finally picking up a wooden spoon and smacking it against his palm loudly.
“Where do you need me chef?”
“Fold the butter into the brown sugar,” you instruct, “softly.”
Jake rolls his eyes purposefully obnoxiously and sighs loudly, “I know.”
“Don’t make me remind you of cupcake gate.”
Jake’s attitude drops, “we agreed not to bring that up.”
“I play petty Seresin, now fold. Gently.” You sass.
Jake chuckles at your demeanour and gets to work, following your orders to complete the cookie dough.
Once complete and set to chill in the freezer, Jake goes to leave the kitchen but instead watches on in amusement as you pace around anxiously. After your third rearrangement of the trinkets on the window sill he interrupts.
“Babe, what are you doing?”
You sigh dramatically and throw yourself into his arms.
“I’m nervous.”
Jake snorts, “why?”
You pull back from where you face was smushed into his chest and pout, “don’t be mean. I’m scared they won’t like my cookies. Or me, for that matter.”
Jake’s thumb strokes absentmindedly over your cheek in an act of comfort.
“All kids like cookies. Fact.” He states, “and they’re gonna love you because they love me and I love you.”
“I don’t want to be their uncle Jake’s lame girlfriend who makes bad cookies.” You bite at your pushed out lip.
“You won’t be, now let’s bake these suckers.”
Jake pats your ass playfully as you bend down to retrieve the cookie dough.
“Put the oven on.” You order.
Jake mock salutes, “yes, chef.”
You run through about ten outfits before finally settling on what to wear, and as you brush through your hair once more, the doorbell goes.
You can hear Jake and his sister talking downstairs as well as the excited giggles of his nieces. When you finally descend the stairs Jake’s sister is smiling up at you.
“It’s great to see you again!” She gives you a one armed hug, the other holding the girls backpacks.
“You too!” You look down to where the girls are holding on to each of Jake’s hands, “and it’s great to meet you girls!”
The younger of the two immediately leaps forward and grabs onto your hand, “I’m Ellie, you’re pretty,” she singsongs.
You bend down and wipe at a smudge on her face, “Not as pretty as you!”
Ellie giggles determinedly and turns back to her mom to smile.
“Ellie, Olive, be good okay?” Jake’s sister nods her head to the two girls before looking back up to the two of you, “and thank you for looking after them on such short notice.”
Jake rolls his eyes, “you know it’s fine, now go have fun.”
“Thank you!” She smiles before kissing the girls on the heads and making her exit.
You look back down to the girls, Ellie is still clinging onto your hand with a smitten look on her face. Her golden curls are kept in two pigtails with small scrunchies. She’s adorable and can’t be older than 5.
When you avert your gaze to Olive, she seems to blush slightly. She is partially hidden by Jake’s large frame but you can still make out her blue eyes and long, mousy brown hair. She looks much older than Ellie, probably about 9 or 10. Much more reserved as well.
“It’s nice to meet you Olive!” You beam.
She nods in your direction, “hi.” It’s almost a whisper but you smile in acknowledgement anyways.
“Jakey I’m hungryyyyy,” Ellie drags out the “e” sound of her Y.
“Well that won’t do will it, Ellie bellie?” Jake teases, dropping Olive’s hand in favour of scooping Ellie up into his arms.
Olive chuckles awkwardly at the commotion and fiddles with the straps of her bag as Jake carries Ellie towards the kitchen where the cookies are almost finished. You can sense a small amount of anxiety radiating off of her, you were similar at that age. Never quite feeling in place. It suddenly becomes your duty to make sure she understands it’s okay.
“I love your hair, it’s so long!” You smile comfortingly at her, reaching out to fiddle with the ends.
She leans more into your touch and speaks quietly, “thank you, I- sometimes I think it’s kind of boring.” She shrugs.
“It’s really beautiful! I wish I could grow my hair that long,” you hum, inspecting the completely undamaged strands of hair.
Olive smiles up at you, “I just wish I could do more hairstyles with it.”
“I could braid it for you? If you would like that of course?”
“I would really like that,” Olive nods.
She lets you lead her upstairs where you sit her in front of your vanity with all your hair and makeup products. You watch fondly as she “oohs” and “ahhs” at the products on display.
“Tell me if I hurt you at all okay?” You question as you brush out her mostly untangled hair.
Olive nods in understanding, “can you do two french braids?”
“Of course!”
You sit in silence for a few moments as you brush and part her hair. You can feel her gaze on you from the mirror.
“You okay?” You hum.
“You’re really pretty, y’know? Way more than Uncle Jake.”
Her words make you giggle, “Your Uncle Jake is very handsome, why else would I be with him?” you tease.
She snorts, “I figured it wasn’t because he was clever.”
You try not to laugh too loud at her quip and bite your lip, “he has his moments.”
Olive rolls her eyes and mumbles “sure” and once calmed from your laughter you’re able to start on the first of the braids and talk to her more.
“How’s school?” You question absentmindedly.
“It’s okay,” she answers. Olive opens her mouth again as if to say something else, before closing it again.
“You can tell me,” you affirm.
“Promise you won’t tell Uncle Jake?” She asks.
“Pinky.”
She quickly intertwines her little finger with yours before beginning.
“There’s this boy,” she blushes as she sees a grin spread across your face, “he sits next to me when we do science, and he’s really cute.”
“What’s his name?” You ask, trying to keep your face neutral.
“Trey. But I don’t even think he knows my name.” She sighs.
“I’m sure he does, Olive, especially if he sits next to you.” You reassure her.
“I mean he only really talks to me to ask for help, but one time he told me he really liked my shoes.” She gushes.
“That’s a good sign Olive,” you confirm, “if a boy likes you he’ll make sure to compliment you, don’t settle for a boy who doesn’t make you feel special, promise me?”
Olive nods diligently, “promise.”
You make a little “aha” noise as you finish with the first braid and begin to move onto the second.
“Did Uncle Jake do that?” She ponders.
“Hmm?”
“Make you feel special?”
You nod your head as your fingers move nimbly through her hair, “he asked me out five times before I said yes.” you giggle in remembrance.
“Five?” Olive chuckles.
You’re not quite sure how to explain to Jake’s niece that you thought he was something of the manwhore before he finally professed his feelings for you.
“I wanted to know that he was committed,” you decide on.
“Uncle Jake really loves you. I heard him on the phone to my mom yesterday and-”
“Stop spilling all my secrets would ya?” Jake quickly interrupts, butting the door open with his foot.
Ellie is propped on his right side holding a plate of what you can assume are your cookies. She and Jake had long gone through the sheets of her My Little Pony colouring book and had decided to come find the two of you and share the cookies that were quickly depleting.
Olive giggles, “sorry Uncle Jake.”
“It’s okay kid,” he grins and plops Ellie down on your bed before coming to stand behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and pecks you on the lips quickly.
Olive and Ellie both pull faces and Jake laughs, “I thought that’s what you wanted to do to Trey, Ollie?”
Olive gasps, “how do you know? And no I do not!”
Jake taps the side of his nose teasingly. You roll your eyes and quickly finish off her braid, flipping them over her shoulders.
“Done.” You pat her head and hope her anger will diffuse.
“Thank you,” she smiles brightly at you, but returns to shooting daggers at Jake just shortly after.
“Cookies?” He offers up as a peace offering.
Olive still keeps up her impressive pout.
“I made them babe don’t worry,” you provide.
“Well in that case,” Olive reaches for a cookie and takes a hefty bite, her eyes widen considerably, “these are so good!”
“Thank you!” You smile, brushing at the crumbs that had accumulated on her cheeks.
“These are the best cookies ever!” Ellie proclaims from where she is now chowing down on another cookie.
“Hey! I thought we said no more?” Jake frowns in faux anger, plopping down on the bed next to Ellie.
“You said that, not me!” Ellie giggles.
“You got me there, bellie.” Jake sighs in defeat.
Ellie throws herself into Jake’s arms and gives her best puppy dog eyes.
“Can we watch a movie?” She pleads.
“You wanna watch a movie, kid?” Jake pokes Olive.
Olive looks to you and you smile, “Yeah,” she nods.
An hour later, you’re all squished onto the couch watching Frozen. Ellie is long past waking up and is spread out across the “L” part of the couch snoring quietly.
You’re tucked into Jake’s side and he’s fiddling with your hand, he hasn’t been watching the screen at all. Instead, watching your features and the way Olive will point out her favourite parts and songs to you. He particularly enjoys her version of “fixer upper” which he presumed might be dedicated to him. He enjoys even more so when by the time the film ends the way that Olive is dozing off on your shoulder and the way you’re stroking softly at her arm.
“They love you,” he coos into your ear.
“I’m glad,” you hum, “I really love them.”
“Olive is never like that with anyone, she’s usually so shy.” Jake explains, placing a kiss at your temple and then tucking your head under his chin.
“I was like that too when I was her age.” You murmur as to not wake the girls, “I hope she knows how special she is.”
“You’re gonna be such a good mom someday,” he whispers down at you.
“I hope so.”
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2.
Jake had been waiting for what felt like hours. It was five minutes really. But when you had told him to go wait in the car he had expected you to be out much sooner than you were. And when you finally sat down next to him, he wasn’t all too pleased.
“Let’s go.” You hum, pulling down the mirror to apply a final layer of lip gloss.
“Is that what you’re wearing?”
“Yeah, why?” You turn, a crease forming in your brow.
Jake winces, unsure of whether to continue, “your skirt, it’s really short.”
“I guess so.” You deadpan.
A beat passes.
“Are you going to cover up?”
Jake watches as your face drops.
“Why would I do that?” You reply snappily.
Jake sighs and begins to pull his car out of the driveway.
“Because I don’t want random guys hitting on you all night.”
“How is that my problem?” You retort, anger bubbling up.
“I just don’t want them getting wrong ideas about you, that’s all.” Jake tries to reason.
“And what would those ideas be, Jake?”
Jake can sense your rising anger. He doesn’t want to be in an argument with you by the time you reach the Hard Deck. That leaves him approximately four minutes to diffuse the situation he has caused.
“Just forget I said anything, it’s fine.” Jake dismisses.
“No, I want to know what you mean.” You assert, arms coming up to cross over your chest.
“Can we just drop it?” Jake sighs after a moment, “I don’t want to fight in front of everyone.”
“We wouldn’t have to fight if you weren’t being a dick!”
Jake rolls his eyes and doesn’t dignify you with a response, angering you even further. When he finally pulls into a spot outside of the Hard Deck you turn to him and flick at his shirt that can’t have more than two buttons done up.
“You gonna do that up sweetheart? Touch revealing don’t ya think?” You spit snarkily.
With that you slam the door to the car and make your way inside without looking back. Jake watches as you beeline for Natasha and rolls his eyes when she shoots him a dirty look. It was only more ammunition for her general distaste of him.
It goes like that for the rest of the night. You avoid Jake like the plague, sticking to Nat’s side mostly near the bar top. Although, you always stay within Jake’s line of sight which is heartening for him.
Bradley seems to find the ordeal hilarious.
“What did you do to piss her off this time?” He taunts.
Jake grunts. “I told her that her skirt was too short and that she needed to change.”
Bradley’s eyes widen, “bagman even I know you’re not supposed to say shit like that.”
“Yeah, well I know that now!” Jake spits.
“Hey don’t shoot the messenger,” Bradley rolls his eyes, “just go say sorry.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“She called me a dick.” Jake huffs.
“She’s not wrong,” Bradley offers.
Jake stays silent.
“You’re so petty.”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
Bradley and Jake stare at one another for a moment.
“Yeah, okay maybe,” Jake relents.
He sighs and averts his gaze back where you’re sat with Nat. You’re laughing so hard at something she’s said that you’re doubled over. You really did look beautiful, and Jake hadn’t even told you because he was too worried he was gonna get jealous and be a dick. Yet he still managed to do the last part.
“I hate when you’re right,” Jake admits, handing his beer over to Bradley.
Jake begins to make his way over to you, he’s going to apologise. However, he did not account for what was going to be quite the persistent obstacle.
“Hey,” a voice blurts from in front of him.
Jake catches sight of the owner of the voice, she’s tall and just a touch too blonde to be believable. She’s pretty, sure. But not you.
“Hey,” Jake replies absentmindedly, trying to make his way around her.
She steps in front of him again, blocking you from his view and tries to start up a new conversation.
“I’m Kendra, and you are?” She smiles in what Jake supposes was seduction.
Right now all he’s really trying to figure out is if your still at the bar or not.
“Jake.” He replies, hoping it will satiate her enough to move.
“Well Jake, it is great to meet you,” Kendra hums, sticking out her hand for Jake to shake.
Jake shakes it swiftly and goes to retract his hand, Kendra keeps it in her own grasp and plays with his fingers, keeping an awkward amount of eye contact with him.
“Look Kendra, I’m sure you’re a great girl but my-”
“I love your shirt!” She interrupts, “would probably love what’s underneath more.”
Jake cringes at her line and at the way her hand is now currently moving towards the excessive amount of chest exposed by his lowly buttons. Before she can reach skin, her hand is smacked away by red polished nails that Jake would recognise anywhere.
“Hey baby,” you whisper, before throwing your arms around Jake’s neck and smashing your lips into his.
Jake is all too quick to reciprocate, letting his hands fall to your ass only just covered by the tiny skirt that Jake has suddenly taken a distinct liking to. You pull back only to catch your breath, but instead catch sight of the seething blonde still stood uncomfortably close.
“We were talking!” She insists.
“He’s busy,” you cock your head to the side in faux apology, “sorry.”
She huffs and mumbles “crazy bitch” as she storms off, you pout to try and hold in your giggles. When you turn back to Jake, it proves useless trying to hold them in when you catch sight of his mouth smothered in your pink lipgloss.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Jake breathes out.
“I’m still mad at you,” you tease.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m a jealous dick, you just look so fucking good I didn’t want anyone else to see you.” Jake explains, hands caressing at the skin at the tops of your thighs.
You snort, “I think I’m the jealous one,”
“Good, I like a change of pace sometimes,” Jake pinches softly at your skin and lets a smile grace his feature at the way you squeak.
“Should we get out of here?” You whisper, hand trailing down Jake’s chest to where his hand is resting on you.
You guide his hand underneath your skirt slowly until Jake realises the lack of barrier between his hand and your cunt.
“Fuck, baby.” Jake hums practically into your mouth from how closely you two are stood.
You step away from him swiftly and bring his hand back into yours, pulling him towards the parking lot. Jake could cry from happiness.
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3.
“If this is stupid you can just tell me, okay?” You ask from where you’re stood in front of a blindfolded Jake.
It’s his birthday today and you told him you had a surprise. He figured it would be a party, which he was thankful for but he couldn’t understand the point of the blindfold.
“Okay you can take it off now.” You instruct.
Jake all but rips the blindfold off and looks down at you to take in your attire.
“Jesus, baby.”
“Do you like it?” You question, giving him a little spin.
Jake’s mouth is agape as he watches the way you twirl, clad in the tiniest daisy dukes he thinks he’s ever seen and what can only be his flannel. The cream of your cowboy boots are subtle and suit you well.
“Like it?” Jake steps forward and shoves his hands into the small back pockets of your shorts, “I fuckin’ love it.”
Behind you, Jake can see his Stetson placed on the table, and behind that he can see into the garden where all of his friends are already drinking and chatting.
“You set this up, baby?” He nods to the glass doors.
“I had some help,” you shrug, finally moving out of his grip to grab his hat.
Jake extends his hand out for you to pass it to him, but is pleasantly surprised when you place it on your own head. He opens his mouth to speak, but your catch him before he can with a wink,
“I know the rule, cowboy.” You tease, placing your hand on his chest. “Consider it a birthday gift.”
Jake holds back a groan as you drag him outside to where he’s greeted by a chorus of “happy birthday”s and various other jokes about him getting old. It sort of shocks Jake at the amount of people there to celebrate, and he has to hold in a chuckle as he sees a number of your friends already beelining for the group of pilots nursing beers on the decking.
Bradley is quick to find Jake as the party gets into full swing, people chatting and music playing throughout the yard.
“You’re one lucky son of a bitch,” Bradley chuckles slapping Jake on the shoulder.
Jake has been staring at you for the last 10 minutes as you twirl around with Phoenix to the varied 2000s songs that have been on loop for most of the evening.
“Don’t I know it,” Jake boasts, clinking his beer bottle against Bradley’s.
You can feel a gaze on your back as you grind onto Phoenix whilst Nelly Furtado plays, not to your shock it’s Jake, head cocked to the side with a lazy smirk on his face whilst practically ignoring everything Bradley is saying to him. You can only giggle as Phoenix makes a teasing remark about him being whipped. She wasn’t wrong.
You make you way towards the boys slowly, smiling as you catch the end of their conversation.
“Whatcha talking about?” You goad, as Jake pulls you back against his chest already.
“You.” Bradley answers truthfully.
“All bad I suppose?” You bait.
“Oh the worst,” Jake fills in, pinching at the meat of your thigh playfully.
Deciding not to prod further, you turn in Jake’s grip to face him and plant a sloppy kiss on his face. It makes Jake laugh and Bradley mock gag, rolling his eyes and making his way towards Phoenix. Jake captures your lips with his a few more times, hands wandering dangerously low towards your ass before you pull away with a wink, and also slight fear of traumatising your guests.
“Patience is a virtue,” you remind Jake, he simply groans in response.
The rest of the night goes as such, Jake gets cornered into conversations, his eyes wander to you, you tease him some way or the other, Jake is left half hard whilst talking to an admiral. It’s uncomfortably delicious and Jake cannot wait for his last birthday gift.
At 1:30 AM, the only stragglers left are the dagger squad, drunkenly swaying around Jake’s backyard and singing horrific variations of “Slow Ride” to annoy him. It doesn’t even work, because Jake knows he has something so sweet waiting for him. However, his patience is wearing thin and considering these are the people closest to him, he has no qualms with speaking his mind.
“Alright, y’all time to get going,” he announces, herding everyone out.
Bob had been kind enough to offer to drive everyone home, and Jake was keen to take him up on it, helping Bob strap in their drunk friends with alarming efficiency.
“Hey! What’s the rush birthday boy?” Javy slurs as Jake buckles his seatbelt.
“He wants birthday sex!” Nat whisper shouts into Javy’s ear, with emphasis on the shout.
The truck erupts in whoops and crude hollers towards Jake and only Bob can offer him an apologetic smile.
“Good luck,” Jake pats Bob on the back.
“You too.” Bob replies with a laugh, eyes glancing quickly to where you’re stood on the porch, hip popped out against one of the wooden beams.
Jake all but sprints back to you, hauling you up into his arms, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. You move to place his stetson on his own head, but Jake stops you.
“Nuh-uh sweetheart, you ride the cowboy, you gotta wear the hat.” He smirks, kicking the front door shut behind him.
“Seems fair.” You hum after a moment.
And when Jake walks into the changing rooms on Monday morning, taking off his shirt to reveal hideous claw marks down his back. No one bats an eye.
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4.
Jake had experienced what one could only describe as a clusterfuck of a day.
To start off the day, his alarm hadn’t gone off, meaning he had to sprint to his car and run a red light on the way to work. What was worse than the impending ticket that he was going to receive was the fact that he hadn’t even been able to kiss you goodbye like he does every morning.
It set him up badly. Jake Seresin was never one for superstitions but you were clearly his lucky charm. Proved so even further by the way his concentration was lacking in the flight simulations he was running. Then when they were up in the air, Jake was missing every opportunity to shoot down Maverick, messing up every manoeuvre and just generally souring his already damp mood.
To top it all off, the pièce de résistance, when Jake finally made it back to the changing rooms, itching to change out of his sweaty flight suit. His bag was sat open, clothes sopping wet whilst two of the newbies stood guiltily next to a broken shower head.
He almost blew his lid. Almost. But then he pictured getting back to you, falling into your arms after this tragic day and finally being able to relax. So for once, Jake decided to keep his mouth shut. He picked up his sopping bag and silently stalked out of the room.
When Jake reached his truck and listened to the way his bag squelched as he set it down, he held in another groan of frustration. The sun was still beating down and his sweaty flight suit was clinging to him in all the wrong places. Deep breath in, clench the steering wheel too hard, deep breath out. It was a 15 minute drive. He could do that for God’s sake.
Jake’s 15 minute drive quickly became a 45 minute one when he found out the road he was supposed to be taking was closed due to a burst pipe. The sky was a dusky purple as he finally pulled up outside your house. Jake can see that the light is on in the kitchen as well as your figure moving around languidly.
Jake slams the car door probably too loudly and rushes to the door. When he opens it, Jake is greeted with the loud sounds of your 90s playlist blasting throughout the house, he can hear you voice - although somewhat out of tune - belting along as well.
It makes him smile, for the first time on that horrid day. Jake’s bag of damp clothes are forgotten by the door as he quickly shucks himself of his boots and makes his way towards the kitchen. He opens the door to the sight of you wiggling your hips to Santana whilst holding a spatula and pushing around some type of stir fry.
You continue your movements, but turn at the sound of someone entering, a large smile gracing your face once you realise who it is.
“Hey, handsome,” you preen, dancing your way towards him.
Jake can’t help but chuckle at you movements, but he quickly falls limp once your wrap your arms around his neck. His large arms wrap around your waist tightly, engulfing you in him. You take note of Jake’s subdued demeanour, and raise one of your hands to scratch at the hair at his neck just like you know he loves.
“You okay, babe?” you hum, swaying him slightly.
“Shit day,” he groans out, leaning further into your touch.
“You wanna talk about it?” You continue your ministrations.
“Later.” He huffs, “Just wanna be with you.”
Jake’s sweet words make you melt into him further, burying your face into his chest. The arms of his flight suit were tied around his waist, only his tight black undershirt covering the expanse of his chest. He smelt like a combination of jet fuel, sweat and his cologne that he’d hurriedly sprayed in the morning. It should probably be off putting but it was so undeniably Jake that it was addictive. You inhale again as you place a chaste kiss against his pec.
“Are you sniffing me?” Jake chuckles.
“You smell so good,” you can only groan out, smushing your face into him again.
Jake leans back and takes your face in his hands,
“I’ve not even showered, I stink,” he chuckles incredulously.
“You still smell so good,” you whine, lips forming a pout.
“That means we’re meant to be or something, my pheromones get you going huh?” Jake teases.
“Never say pheromones again,” you roll your eyes and wiggle out of his grip to lower the heat under the pan you were searing the food in.
Jake follows you diligently, arms wrapping around your waist so he can cling to you as you move about the kitchen. Once bored of your movements, Jake swiftly lifts you up to sit at the counter top.
“Jake!” You swat at his chest, “we need to plate up the food,” you remind him.
“It can wait,” he decides, leaning in to connect his lips to yours.
It’s what he’d been waiting for all day. The pillow of your lips on his, the way you melt into his touch. One strong hand caressing the side of your face and the other gripping at your hip. You rest one hand on his chest, the other at the back of his neck, guiding his face to yours over and over again. Jake feels like a teenager again, making out with his girlfriend on the kitchen counter top. Except his 16 year old self would probably lose his mind trying to figure out how he ended up with someone like you.
Once you’d let Jake’s tongue explore your mouth in a kiss that had lasted far too long, you finally pull back to catch your breath.
“You want food?” you question with a smile.
“Please,” Jake hums as you hop off the counter. He smacks at your ass you walk away from him, “I’m starving.”
You roll your eyes fondly, and get to plating up the food. Jake isn’t too keen on letting you out of his grip, so you sit in his lap as you eat, feeding him and yourself at the same time. It’s nice, his strong grip is comforting and Jake appreciates how eager you are to listen to his rant about his shitty day.
“I was missing you all day, baby,” Jake murmurs, kissing at the side of your neck.
“I always miss you, Jake,” you smile earnestly, “now go shower and I’ll wash the plates.”
Jake allows you out of his grip so you can stand and move back around the kitchen, he shadows you once again, moving in tandem with his hands never leaving you.
“I thought you were going to shower?” You question, placing the last dish in the dishwasher.
“I don’t wanna leave you,” he whines.
You sigh, holding in your smirk as you turn to face him. “You wanna shower together?”
Jake has never looked so giddy as he practically races up the stairs, shirt flying off as he climbs the steps.
“You’re insatiable!” You yell after him.
“Only for you!” He yells in return.
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+1
“I’ve thought a lot about what I could say right now,” Jake clears his throat.
He’s not nervous. In fact he doesn’t think anything has ever been so clear in his mind.
“I think usually when people do these things they tell memories or defining moments about their relationship, but the truth is. Every goddamn moment since I met you, I knew this was the only possible outcome.”
Jake looks down to where your sat with your shared friends and family, you look like a dream really. He’d been antsy about not seeing your dress, but now he was glad he’d waited.
“Y’know she turned me down five times before finally agreeing to go out with me?” Jake chuckles into the mic he’s holding.
Laughter rings out through the guests but Jake’s gaze never wavers from you. You’re rolling your eyes at him with a smile on your face, letting out a giggle as Jake’s mom squeezes your hand.
“I don’t blame her, I was kind of a mess. I’d just been stationed back here on North Island, and Javy was my only friend because I was a dick.”
The dagger squad, raise their glasses in a cheers to Jake’s statement, cracking the room up again.
“I never thought Rooster would be sat at my table at my wedding, I’ll admit that.” Jake laughs out.
Bradley in return whoops and raises a hand in salute to Jake.
“He’s single by the way ladies,” Jake winks to your elderly grandmother.
“Anyways, as I was saying, total dick, with a lacking moral compass and even more so in my emotions. I was kind of betting on getting the mission done and going back to wherever the hell I was stationed and moving on. Then I ended up pissing off the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen by pouring a drink down her shirt, and she chewed me out worse than any admiral I’d ever crossed.”
“It was expensive!” You quickly yell out in defence.
“As you can see, I’m still making up for it,” Jake teases, “but from that moment onwards I realised I needed to get my act together. My pea brain was shocked that a woman would cuss me out like that, and I immediately fell in love with her. Which probably makes me sound crazy but seriously, being around you for five minutes makes you want to be a better person, and being around you for this long has made me a better man.”
Jake’s smile can only widen when your glossy eyes meet his, “Rooster once told me I was a lucky son of a bitch to have you, and as annoyingly as always. He was right. I don’t know how or why you agreed to be my girlfriend, and it’s a godsent miracle that I get to call you my wife. You’re the best person in every room - sorry everyone - and the most beautiful person always. I love you, which you already know, but I just wanted to say it again,” Jake exhales.
Jake raises his glass in a final toast, “to my beautiful wife, the new Mrs Seresin.”
Glasses clink around the room and Jake almost misses you beelining for him throughout all the commotion. Your arms wrap swiftly around his neck, pulling his lips against yours. You kiss him softly, before pulling back to whisper to him,
“You know I love you so fucking much right?”
“Of course I do, baby,” Jake hums.
“You’re the best man I know,” you smile, leaning in to his lips again.
Jake dips you as you kiss, feeding off of the theatrics as people holler. People are standing and moving towards the dance floor as he brings you back up, forehead pressed against your own.
“Do you know how hot it is that you’re my wife?” He smirks.
“Mrs Seresin does have a nice ring to it,” you decide.
“The best, actually,” Jake replies, as he’s dragged towards the dance floor by Javy.
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a/n: jake is so husband coded it’s not even funny,,, like THAT IS MY MAN!!!!
@roosterforme ages ago we were talking and you asked me to tag you when i posted my jake fic, sorry it’s been eons hehe i hope you enjoy!!
pls comment, reblog, or send me an ask and tell me what you think!!
thank you for reading :))
- honey <333
5K notes · View notes
sunlightmurdock · 5 months
Text
Hey, Neighbour! | DBF!Jake Seresin x Reader (18+)
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Synopsis: Jake’s been having a problem recently, and when the power goes out next door, everything quickly comes to a head.
Warnings: dad’s best friend trope. Age gap. Reader is in her mid-20s, Jake’s around 40. Obviously unbalanced power dynamic. No use of Y/N. Reader’s dad has a name. Mention of reader having a piercing. Smut. Pure filth and pining. Smut. Oral (f receiving). Unprotected pinv. Creampie. Jake has no respect for his best friend’s furniture. Choking briefly. Please comment / Reblog, it’s greatly appreciated. Wc: 8.5k. Minors dni, you will be blocked.
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Jake clicks the television off and pushes himself up from the couch, joined by his shadow of a German shepherd called Ace. They walk together to the sound of the meek little knock at his front door, Jake’s gym socks padding along his dark wood floors along the way.
It’s late. Too late for whoever is at his front door to be bearing good news. He twists the door handle and pulls it open, rolling back his aching shoulders. This late at night, he has a good idea of who’s going to be standing on his porch.
As expected, standing there and shivering in your dad’s coat and a pair of slippers, is exactly the last person that Jake was hoping to see.
You see, Jake has had a bit of a problem since he moved in to this neighbourhood.
Quite a substantial one, in the grand scheme of things, and one that seems to just be getting worse by the minute.
Suburbia was meant to be Jake’s reprieve from his bachelor lifestyle. His escapades have been worrying his mother to death for going on two decades now, and it came time that even Jake agreed that it was time to wisen up about his love life. With all of the deployments, and all of the time away from home, it had been beyond easy to never fall into anything serious. By the time he was twenty-nine, Jake’s longest ever relationship was two and a half months, which was alarming given the number of women he had encountered by then.
Two things happened that sent Jake here, to this cute little cul-de-sac in suburban San Diego, one — Jake’s job became more secure, and guaranteed that he would spend at least ninety percent of his remaining career here on the west coast. Second, he proposed to a woman. A beautiful woman, that he was so sure he was going to spend the rest of his life with.
She liked his house, it looked like the one her parents had raised her in. So, he bought the house and he bought a dog, and swore that he was going to try to settle down. Six months later, it was just him and the dog. Payton apologised profusely, and she’d apologise even more if he ever ran into her again, he just wasn’t right for her.
Things weren’t so bad though. Jake and Ace liked the peace and quiet, and the guy next door was actually pretty cool. Jack, the airline pilot with a mean golf swing and a great nose for the best sports bars in town. He’s a little older than Jake, with a hell of a lot more to show for it, including three grown up kids.
It’s been a couple of years now, and Jake’s practically part of the family. He knows everything there is to know. He’s there on birthdays, holidays, emergencies — he loves this family. But he has a problem.
His problem was manageable at first. So, Jack’s youngest daughter might have caught Jake’s attention at first. You were visiting home from college and you had stepped out of the car in a tight little pair of shorts and a tank top, and Jake just happened to be standing in Jack’s garage, helping him with a little project, when he first saw you.
And you were funny. Right away cracking some joke about Jake’s less than adept approach to projects around the house. Jake had laughed out loud without even meaning to, and then you’d turned your head and hit him with that mega-watt smile. Bringing new meaning to the term beaming.
God, that pretty fucking smile.
Your humour dances lightly on the nerves of others, like Jake’s, but sweeter. You’re well behaved and back then you had had a dreamy boyfriend who was in pre-med. Perfect in every way.
Even more reason for Jake to keep his hands to himself.
You were Jack’s kid. Jake wouldn’t ever cross that line. It’s just that sometimes… he had to remind himself of this boundary.
He hadn’t ever been close friends with someone where that was even a concern, and truthfully, he had been unprepared for meeting you. In all of the stories Jack told him, you were this cute little kid. Standing before him, you didn’t quite match the image he had of you in his head. This was truly uncharted territory.
Truth be told, there were times when Jake wasn’t so sure you wanted him to hang back. Even when you were still bringing that boyfriend of yours around, Jake caught the way you looked at him.
The way you tug those glossed lips between your teeth and grin around the straw of your drink.
If he was a better friend, or a stronger man, he might have been able to nip his little problem in the bud right away. He had tried, and you were living away from home then, so it was easier. But last month, you had moved back in with your parents and Jake’s life has been nothing but stress ever since.
On occasion, Jake thinks of how he would have to plead his case if someone discovered how he felt. You just don’t know what it’s like when she’s looking at me, man. I swear, I tried to stay away from her, I did.
It’s not his fault that Jack asked him to watch you while your folks were away on that cruise.
Jake’s gaze finally flickers back up to your wounded, hurt baby bunny, expression.
“What’s the matter, cutie? — You alright?” He reaches for you with one hand, gently grabbing at the crook of your elbow and guiding you towards him. That sad little look on your face tugs at his heart strings every time.
“Yeah, I just — I plugged in my phone charger and all the lights went out. I think I tripped a fuse,” All exasperated and frustrated at once, you push your hair back off of your face and frown at him. “Could you come take a look at it for me?”
Jake’s throat grows thick. Under your dad’s heavy work coat, Jake can see the thin white tank top you’re wearing and the blue checkered, boxer style pyjama shorts. But Jack asked him to take care of you.
“Yeah. Of course I can,” Jake nods his head and reaches down to tug at Ace’s black woven collar. “Come in a sec. I just need some shoes.”
There haven’t been too many occasions where you have been inside Jake’s place. Your dad comes here a lot and you’ve been sent over to collect him before dinner on occasion, or to deliver Jake some leftovers.
It’s warm inside, and it smells like woodsmoke and leather. He’s been burning the candle that you got him for his last birthday. You inhale softly, shrugging the coat closer to your body.
In the times that you have been over here, you’re always surprised by how tidy he keeps the place. It’s not what you would have expected of a single guy living all alone.
Jake pulls some sneakers from a tidy shoe organizer disguised to look like an end table and crouches down to put them on his feet. Leaning over, something catches his eye between the heavy fleece of your dad’s unzipped work jacket.
“Did you get your bellybutton pierced?”
The question startles you, drawing attention to the fact that you had been craning your neck and trying to get a look into Jake’s living room. You turn your head, blinking as Jake straightens up and takes a step towards you.
He reaches out and before you know it, his warm fingers are stretching out across your chilled, just exposed navel. His thumb brushes over your soft skin, brows drawing together as he examines the dainty jewelry pushed through your skin.
Swiftly, you take a step back and his hand drops away from your body. “I’ve had it for years.”
There’s a silence between the two of you. Jake’s going to be kicking himself for that for weeks to come. He shouldn’t have reached out and touched you like that. He shouldn’t be commenting on things your father wouldn’t approve of. You’re too grown up for that.
“Huh,” He clicks his tongue, reaching just past your side to grab his house keys from the dish by the door. “C’mon, kid. Let’s go take a look at those lights.”
The shuffle of your slippers cuts through the awkward silence as you cross Jake’s front yard and into yours. It’s late November, and a cold night in particular too. Standing in just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, the evening chill makes Jake’s arm hair stand on end. As you walk ahead, your back to him, Jake wonders if it has the same effect on you.
Thinking about his best friend’s daughter’s tits. He wishes the shame alone was enough to knock the thought out of his head. He wishes you hadn’t moved home. He wishes you weren’t leading him into your dark, empty house right now.
The entire house is pitch black, but Jake tests the hallway lightswitch in passing anyway. He notes the dubious look you shoot him back over your shoulder. Then, he passes by you as you stop to take off that big coat. It’s not something he wants to hang by and watch.
It’s cold as his shoulder brushes yours, and not just because it’s November. You swallow thickly, staring after him until he disappears into the dark. Your feelings towards Jake are complicated.
Well, they’re not. Your crush on him isn’t the innocent middle school crush that you used to have on an older figure, like a teacher. No, this is far from doodling his name in your journal. This man, and his thick, ridged abs and golden chest hair, is working his way into your dreams.
After the break-up, you had sworn off men for a while — and that was the right decision for you. But, it left certain parts of you yearning. And Jake’s right next door. From your bedroom window, you’ve got the perfect view into his backyard. The same backyard where he’ll work out in the blazing heat, sweat glistening along his tanned skin, along the ridges and valleys of his muscles.
No, this crush is far from innocent. It crossed the border into indecent weeks ago, the first time that you touched yourself thinking about him. It wasn’t your fault; he was tempting you.
You had returned home from work to find Jake hanging out in the living room with your father, not unusual, and you had joined the two of them. Your dad had started with a playful comment about Jake. Jake had returned the favour with a witty remark about your dad. You were just joining in on the fun, poking playfully at Jake’s age.
All too suddenly, he had turned sharply to you and pinched the soft skin between your ribs and hip, leaning dangerously close with a smirk on his face that made your head spin. In fact, you still remember the way your mouth had hung open as Jake had breathed out a chuckle and shot you that playfully warning look.
“You think you’re funny, huh?” He’d challenged, that eager look in those wild green eyes, his cheeks dimpling just slightly, fingers pressing into your side.
Since then, you can’t help but think of him closer, and closer.
“Jake, wait!” You call, dropping the coat onto a hook and kicking off your slippers, starting to rush after him. Jake cranes his neck to look back at you over his shoulder. “You should probably show me what you’re doing. Y’know, in case it happens again.”
“Sure. Come here,” Jake jerks his head for you to join him, extending his hand for you in the dark of the utility room. You swat around until your fingers graze his, falling silent at the brash way he grabs hold of your hand and drags you closer. Your ass briefly brushes his thigh as he guides you in front of him. Jake steps back, clearing his throat. The little red dot on the fuse box illuminates his fingertips as he reaches past you. “This is the switch you want, don’t mess with anything else or your dad’ll kill you.”
The corners of your lips twitch. There are plenty of things your dad would be furious with, if he knew you had done them.
Jake’s fingers curl around the switch. His cologne fills your nose. His massive bicep is inches from your cheek, and everything feels like electric as his other hand comes to rest on the bare space between your shirt and your shorts. You’re trapped between him and the wall in front. If you would push your hips back just an inch or two…
“So, you flip the switch off to reset it,” Jake’s voice is all gravel from yelling at the young pilots he instructs, and shouting over the top of loud music in bars. It drifts past your ears and makes you want to shiver as his fingers curl around the plush of your hip. “And then you flip it back on for the power.”
Suddenly, the lights come back on in the hall outside of the utility room. Jake’s got you cornered against the fuse box really, and with the washer and dryer to your side, the only escape would be to rush out into the hall. You’re not quite ready to make that move. You can hear the amusement in his voice. He can feel the way you’re burning with awkward embarrassment in front of him.
“Oh.” You say quietly. Jake chuckles from behind you, his hand trailing about an inch higher, taking some of the fabric from your tank top with it, pinching playfully at your newly exposed waist.
“Happy to help, kid.” He’s already drawing back, his hand pulling away from your electrified skin, the sound of his shoe hitting the floor and alerting you to the fact that he’ll be leaving before you even know it.
“Could I ask you for one more favour?” You turn to face him, biting sheepishly on your bottom lip.
“Sure. What is it?” He’d retile your entire bathroom for you if you asked him to. That’s what makes him wish he was a better friend.
There’s an art to the way you bat your lashes at him, knowing better than to get too close or put your hands on him. Just that deep, pleading look in your eyes is more than enough. “Will you finish watching my scary movie with me? — Kinda… freaked me out a little bit when the lights went out, is all.”
“… Yeah. Yeah, I guess I can hang out for a little.” You’re a good kid, and it’s just a movie. He can’t leave you over here all by yourself, scared out of your mind, now, can he?
Jake wonders if this is what your father had in mind when he had asked his most trusted friend to just be there for his daughter while they were away.
That same, trusted best friend, sitting on the couch with his chin propped up against his palm, and that daughter’s head resting against his shoulder. You could have sat over on the other end of the couch, or even in your dad’s armchair, but that defeats the purpose of asking Jake to stay.
“Fill me in. What am I missing here?” Jake asks, mostly to fill the silence. His arm stretches along the back of your couch, his knees parted obnoxiously and his neck awkwardly straight to minimise risk of him laying his head against yours.
Your hand comes to rest against his middle, eyes focused calmly on the screen. “So there are two timelines. The present, and flashbacks to like… maybe ten years ago. Ten years ago, the family bought this mirror, and…”
Jake’s fingers inch their way into your hair, trailing softly over your scalp. Your fingers brush over his middle as he massages your scalp. He listens to you explain the plot of the movie like he isn’t thinking about the way your nipples are pressing through the white fabric of your tank top.
“Freaky mirror…” Jake muses over the concept of the plot, squinting his eyes at the screen, his fingers slowing to a halt in your hair as he turns his head to look at you. “You gonna be able to sleep okay tonight if we watch this?”
You meet him back with a sheepish grin and an innocent shrug of your shoulders. “Well, I already started, so I need to see that it ends okay, or I’ll be freaked out.”
“Alright. Just making sure you’re not gonna try crawling into my bed tonight after you have a nightmare.” Jake teases, pushing his knees further apart and sinking down into the comfort of the grey fabric couch he helped the movers bring in here last August.
He didn’t push you away when you sat right next to him and curled against his side. He reached out himself and stroked his fingers along your stomach.
Confidence surges through you like a wave, swelling big enough for you to giggle and press closer to him. “Come on, would that be such a bad thing?”
“What did you say?”
The swell has passed and the wave crashes just like all the others do, breaking over an otherwise calm sea. You swallow softly, growing exceptionally still.
“I was just kidding—“
Jake’s fingers leave your hair and curl instead around the nape of your neck. He turns his head, attempting to get a look at your face. “No, no. Say it again. What did you say?”
You shake your head, pressing it closer against his toned stomach. “I was just joking. You wouldn’t mind it that much if I had a bad dream and had to come sleep in your bed.”
He’s quiet for a moment and the movie draws tense. The main character is creeping around in the dark, the music is building, and Jake’s far too quiet for your liking.
“Don’t joke about that.” Jake says quietly.
“Okay. I’m sorry.” You answer him, hugging your cheek into the dark fabric of his t-shirt. That way, there’s no chance of him seeing the shame on your face. Going after your dad’s best friend— you should be ashamed of yourself.
Jake rubs a palm over the stubble on his jaw, trying to focus on the screen in front of him. This movie can’t possibly take much longer.
He knows he has upset you. You’re uncharacteristically quiet, and he can feel you trying to sit still. He shifts his hips a little, reaching out and resting his palm against your waist.
Your brows draw together as the main character bites into the apple she was eating and glass shards drop to the floor in front of her. Jake feels your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. Sweat beads on the nape of his neck.
His thumb swipes back and forth over the inch of bare skin on your hip.
Jake glances down at you. Laying against his middle like this. It feels all too natural. He isn’t even paying attention to the movie. Truthfully, the only thing on Jake’s mind is how soft your skin feels against the pad of his thumb.
Imagining how soft your body would feel in his palms, every inch of your skin in his capable hands.
You gasp as the camera pans to the main character’s bleeding mouth, and the shattered lightbulb in your hands, twisting your head and burying your face in Jake’s shirt.
Jake flinches, his attention drawn back to the screen as his fingers curl into your skin. His face twists in distaste, groaning at the gore on the screen.
“Shit, you weren’t kidding about this being freaky.” Jake mutters with a soft shake of his head, shifting uncomfortably as his fingers massage at the pillowy skin of your waist. He swallows thickly, eyes dropping down to the way you’re nestled just above his waistband. He tries a weak chuckle, mind racing for something to lighten the mood. “What am I meant to do if I’m up all night after this, huh?”
You laugh softly against his stomach, pressing closer to the warmth of his rigid torso. Jake stares at the screen as he feels your open palm brush over his abdomen, fingertips grazing the waistband of his sweats by mere millimeters. He strokes your skin, setting his knees further apart by an inch.
Even with the score of the movie in front of you, everything feels so quiet. Even with the floor lamp to your right and the table lamp to your left, it all feels so dark. It all feels so slow. Truthfully, you imagine this is as close as you’ll get to understanding what it feels like to tightrope across Niagara Falls.
One misstep, a strong gust, the loss of balance in any capacity and its all over. The best friendship that your father has ever had, thrown away because you made a pass at a man far too old for you to begin with.
Then, Jake’s fingers break their almost surgically precise pattern. The tips stretch just slightly under the fabric of your tank top, reaching for the silken skin of your stomach. It’s brief, before they retreat to the safety of circling the skin that you’ve chosen to expose. You drop your gaze, watching all five of his digits follow their intricate pattern, and stretch under the cotton white of your top once again.
Maybe Jake notices that you’re watching him, or maybe he finally notices it himself, but he stops all at once. Fingers pulling back to rest platonically against your hip, green eyes trained seriously on the television, his lips stretched into a flat line.
“It’s okay,” You whisper without turning your gaze away from the screen. Jake doesn’t look at you. He feels your fingers brush across the top of his, curling through the digits, linking them together. “It’s okay, Jake. You can. I won’t say anything.”
Your parents aren’t going to be home for another eleven days. What’s Jake supposed to do until then, ignore your existence? — Avoid you entirely?
He wants this, and you’re on to him, giving him permission.
“Honey,” It’s caught somewhere between a sigh and a groan, an exhale of restraint and desperation all at once. He wishes he could at least pretend he’s half interested in this movie. “Don’t talk like that.”
Your brows draw together, eyes going wide as a child in the movie creeps through the house, headed for the master bedroom. Bloody sheets on the bed. A smashed plate on the floor. Jake’s hand gripping your hip. The child inches forwards, the music swells, a chill rushes down your back. In frame, the little girl rounds the edge of the bed and someone leaps out, bloodied and frenzied. Jake hasn’t been paying enough attention to gather who.
Neither one of you will care in a few moments.
The surprise makes you jolt, leaping up from your spot against Jake’s stomach, sitting upright all of a sudden, grabbing onto his forearm for support.
“It’s alright, cutie,” Jake breathes out in soft amusement, rubbing a heavy circle on your back. That’s the first thing he called you. When he’d seen you struggling to lift the icebox in the garage. Let me get that for you, cutie. And now, he has the nerve to pretend like it’s just you that has led the two of you here. “Maybe we should turn it off now, huh?”
Your heartbeat is already thudding in your ears and there’s no way you’ll be able to sleep after any of this. Fuck it. You turn, brace your palm against his shoulder, and take the dive.
Jake has thought about what those pretty lips feel like. Every time they stretch upwards into those pretty smiles, each time you sink your teeth into the bottom one. He should be prepared, in theory. Is there any way to prepare for something like this?
“Sweetheart…” Jake mutters against your lips, eyes screwed shut, hands reaching out for your hips. Pained, he gives a slow shake of his head. “Come on, we can’t do this.”
“But do you want to?” Your lips graze his. He feels the way you arch your back, knocking your chest into his, angling yourself in a way that just begs him to grab hold of your waist and drag you into his lap. You close your mouth, pecking softly at his still lips once more. “If you didn’t know my dad… you would. Right?”
Yes. Of course he would. He would be insane not to. He’s driving himself insane trying not to.
“But I do, and… and he trusts me.” Jake turns his head just slightly, but his hands reach for you. His big hands find your hips and grab onto them tight, hard. He just holds you right there. There’s got to be some kind of way he can regain some of the power here.
“I trust you.” You tell him, kissing his jaw tentatively. Delicate fingertips skim along the throbbing vein on the left side of Jake’s throat, reaching for the nape of his neck. Soft, slow kisses lead a trail to his earlobe, passing plains of stubble and angled bone. “I know you won’t hurt me, and I know you want me. It’s okay, Jake, I want you too.
“Fuck.” Jake swears, dropping his head forwards to rest against the curve of your shoulder. His fingers dig into your hips harder and harder. By the time Jake drags you forwards, his grip is so tight that you would have no choice but to follow. You fall into his lap, lips parted and eyes wide as Jake’s deep pine coloured eyes study your face.
You wait for him to speak again, but he doesn’t. Not for a long time. His fingers stretch up from your hips, reaching under the fabric of your tank top, extending across your bare abdomen. He stretches the brushed cotton further, taking it up with a gentle touch.
“Your father would kill me.” Jake muses as his fingertips graze the underside of your breasts, his eyes solely on your face. You smile back at him, only partly because your father is an airline pilot who couldn’t bench half of what Jake does on a good day.
“I won’t tell him if you don’t.”
Jake grits his teeth. It has started to rain outside now. That storm that channel four had promised is starting to roll in. The movie will be over soon. The rain will be the only sound on this entire street. This house is completely empty, beside the two of you. He exhales through his nose and pushes his hips up. He’s half-hard under you, and giving you another disapproving shake of his head.
“Little fuckin’ minx…” Jake curses you, his words fanning out across the span of your exposed neck, hot and cold all at once. “You get off on teasing me like this, or something?”
A smile works its way across those pretty lips. Jake could see more of that smile than he sees sunsets and he would still be pretty damn content. Your nails rake softly through the almost buzzed fade at the back of his head as you give a shake of your head.
“Well, it’s not teasing if we take care of it,” Your shoulders rise and fall in a soft shrug as Jake’s fingers trail further upwards, taking your tank top with them and exposing your breasts to the cool autumn air. The rattle of the air conditioning unit that your dad tells you not to mess with reminds you of the real culprit as your nipples harden and perk with the exposure. You lean back, bracing each of your hands on Jake’s knees, arching your chest out, letting Jake see the newly exposed skin. “If you’ll let me.”
His eyes are pretty when he smiles. When he’s staring at your tits, they’re hooded and hungry, a shade of green that threatens to draw you in and hold you captive. What a happy captive you would be. His hands grab at both of them at once, squeezing roughly at the supple flesh.
All at once, his mouth is on yours too. He’s sucking at your bottom lip, growling into your mouth. He smells of smoked wood and he tastes of scotch. It paints half of a picture. A lonely man sitting in his home alone on a Saturday night, burning a candle given to him by a girl half his age and drinking liquor older than he is himself.
You’re straddling his hips now, your bare thighs squeezing into the fabric of his grey sweatpants, pulling yourself closer with each hungry kiss. Jake’s touch is experienced, expert; he pinches softly at your nipple, anticipates the way your mouth will draw open in a soft gasp, and licks into your mouth the second that it does. He sucks softly at the tip of your tongue, revelling in the feeling of your soft breasts in his hands.
“Arms up.”
You’re such a good girl. The way that you comply with a wordless grin and bite at your lip once the tank top hits the floor has Jake in even more trouble than he was before. He kisses softly at the space between your tits, pushing them together in his hands, opening his mouth and pressing his tongue into your skin.
Men like boobs. Big boobs, small boobs — your shared gossip sessions with friends in college always led to the same conclusion, men don’t care. They bite, suck, grab regardless of size. It shouldn’t be anything new. But then Jake reaches your left nipple. His right hand palms at the underside as his tongue swipes in a circular motion, just before his lips clasp around the sensitive bud.
You know he’s watching you through those esurient green eyes, but you find yourself playing right into his capable hands anyway. Any leverage you may have had in seeming like his charms don’t work on you are washed away with the dulcet tone of your first moan. It spills from your lips, your nails pressing into the nape of his neck as Jake sucks expertly at the sensitive skin.
He pulls away with another ravenous exhale, something between a sigh and a groan. His hands feel heavy on your body as they paw at your chest with a capability you’ve never encountered before. His cologne is expensive and mature, a smokey blend that has you intoxicated and enthralled. His mouth is wet and eager, but oh, so slow as it explores the areas of you he has dreamt about.
The rain outside is growing heavier, like it’s learning to mimic the deepness of each of your breaths. The movie must have finished by now. Neither one of you is going to check.
His stubble prickles, rough and masculine, abrasive compared to the adept caress of his tongue. His right hand grabs forcibly at the nape of your neck, drawing the sweetest little squeak from your already open lips. You knew he would be better than the guys you’ve been with before, but not like this. He hasn’t even touched you yet.
Jake’s lips seem to pinpoint each and every nerve ending in your chest, sucking and licking at your skin through feverish kisses. The tenderness seeping away each time a breathy moan falls from your mouth, fanning out against his clothed shoulder. He pulls away from the top of your breast with his teeth, already knowing, in his years of experience, that that’s going to bruise.
Jake lifts his head, letting his eyes drift shut as you lean forwards and press your mouth to his neck. He can feel your nerves in your trembling fingertips, in the way your chest shivers when it brushes his, in the way your lips suck at his pulse point. But you’re doing so well. Dragging your lips along the length of his neck, biting softly at the skin just above his collarbone, feeling him shiver at the sensation.
“Off.” You demand, grabbing at the bottom of his t-shirt, feeling him grin against your jaw. He complies wordlessly, grabbing at the back of his shirt and yanking it over his head.
You’ve seen Jake shirtless plenty of times, wandering around his property or opening the front door without shame. You’ve always wondered what those muscles, that dusting of golden chest hair, would feel like up close. Forgetting that you’re being watched, your hands explore his toned torso. The line down the middle of his stomach, the sharp divide of his collarbones, the swell of his pecs.
“What’re you thinking?” Jake asks, brushing your hair back from your face tenderly, concern coating his features.
A bashful smile spreads across your cheeks as you watch your fingers ghost along the thick muscle of his shoulder. “That you’re really hot.”
Jake breathes out a chuckle, reaching up and grabbing at the back of your neck to cradle you against him as he pushes up from the couch and turns quickly, planting you on your back and covering your body with his.
“That smile is gonna get me in big trouble, sweetheart,” Jake wastes no time in pressing his mouth to your stomach, holding you by your waist as he sucks filthy kisses into your skin to mark his path downward. “You know that?”
“I know.” You answer back, just to tease him this time. Jake stops at your waistband as you giggle, looking up at you through hooded eyes with a devilish grin on his face. He drags his teeth across your hip, hooking his fingers into the sides of your shorts and tugging them down your legs.
“God, honey, you weren’t wearing panties this entire time?” Jake exhales, eye-level with the most intimate part of you and completely unashamed. Your mind fumbles for an answer, lips getting into position to finally respond when he leans forwards and licks a stripe through your soaked core. Then, he moans. His hands grab fistfuls of your soft waist and he goes in again, lapping hungrily at your excitement, groaning against your sensitive skin.
“O-Oh… Jake.” Your voice trembles, knees trying to press shut around Jake’s broad shoulders. He grabs firmly at your thigh, closing his lips loosely around your clit, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud and making you jolt against him.
“Yeah, honey?”
“That feels really fucking good.” You tell him, closing your eyes finally.
“Attagirl. Just hold on, girlie, I’m gonna get you there.” He promises without once diverting from his apparent mission. If he’s as devoted to the Navy as he is to making you cum at this exact moment in time, the military is lucky to have him. You’re soaked, excitement pooling between your legs. Jake already knows he’s going to spend tomorrow cleaning this couch, and he wishes he cared enough to make better decisions.
“Look at this,” Jake breathes out as his gaze falls back down to rest between your legs. He couldn’t care less about the fucking couch. You swallow hard, practically aching for his touch. You’ve waited so long already. His index finger dips between your folds, his brows raise as he gathers your excitement on the tip of it. “Making such a fuckin’ mess for your old man’s best friend. Dirty fucking girl.”
He can’t see the way his words make you grin, but he can feel the way you reach for his hair and tug softly at those blonde roots, begging for more. He’s more than happy to give it to you. Jake groans against you, working his tongue in soft circles around the throbbing bundle of nerves. His eyes are still on you. Your eyes are closed — if you look him in the eyes then you’re going to get all embarrassed, and you’ll be damned before you let someone ruin how good this feels. Especially not yourself.
Jake’s hand trails up your naked torso, pawing at your rising and falling tits as you pant into the chilled air, sweat beading on your skin.
He’s gentle between your legs. More gentle than he could be. Pressing his stubbled mouth firmly against your core and working his tongue against you, each languid movement making you keen into him. The tip of his nose bumps your clit periodically. It feels like your head is spinning.
Dragging his mouth back up to your sensitive, throbbing clit, his free hand slides between your legs, he dips the tip of his index finger into you, then slides it in up to the knuckle and curls. Just testing the waters. It’s enough to earn him a moan, enough to have you grab a fistful of his short blonde hair, ensuring that he doesn’t get ahead of himself and lose pace with his mouth.
He slips his ring finger into you alongside his middle whilst his tongue works confidently along your core and back up to your clit. He lets go of your thigh and rests his forearm across your stomach, keeping you nice and still for him. Maybe he should feel ashamed of himself for how much he’s enjoying this.
All of those times he enjoyed the sound of your laugh, and sat with the afterthought of how much he’d enjoy the sound of your moans. It’s hard to be ashamed when it turns out he was right.
He scissors his fingers inside of you, making you gasp louder this time, pulling against him. You tug at his roots, he moans against your clit. You both shiver, and not because of that now thundering storm. Jake’s tongue flattens as he drags it along your core. He pulls his fingers from you and puts them immediately to work, taking over the pace on your clit, burying his face between your legs, curling his tongue into you.
Jake growls against you, his cock growing now uncomfortably hard in the confines of his sweats and his fingers and mouth switch places once again. After all the time he has waited, he doesn’t deny himself the pleasure of looking up at you, writhing at the feeling of him between your legs. All that does is make his sweats feel even tighter again. His fingers fuck into you mercilessly, curling and twisting, making you keen into his touch and arch your back and gasp all at once.
You cum with his name on your tongue and your fingers in his hair. The comedown feels like weightlessness. Jake doesn’t bother to ask if that’s the first time a man has made you feel like that, the adoration in your eyes as he comes in to kiss your mouth tells him everything he needs to know.
His mouth tastes like you, his chin is wet with your slick and his cock is straining against the grey cotton of his sweats, pressing in to your stomach. Jake’s fingers brush your hair back softly from your forehead, a sudden calmness in the green of his eyes as he studies the peaceful euphoric smile on your face.
“We don’t have to go any further—“
“Stop trying to be a gentleman.” You huff, lifting your head and kissing him hard, hooking your legs around his waist. Drawing him closer, you’re both painfully aware that the only thing stopping him from touching you is his sweats. “I want you.”
Jake pauses for a moment. Rain slams against the windows, and the television goes dark as it passes into standby mode. His hands squeeze softly at your waist, eyes darting downward at your naked body under his. He would be a damn idiot to say no to everything he has been fantasising about.
“You keep condoms here?” He breathes out.
Your eyes light up before him, gleaming with mischief. You give a confident nod of your head as a cunning little smirk spreads across your lips.
“There are some in my parents’ bathroom,” You can tell right away that he doesn’t like that idea, but that’s okay, option two was by far your favourite anyway. “Or, you could just cum in me. I won’t tell.”
“Jesus Christ.” Jake drops his head forwards to rest against your naked chest, panting out a dry laugh. His fingers bruise into your middle as he starts to consider the choices that have led him here. Once he feels composed enough to look you in the eye again, he lifts his head and squints seriously. “You did not just say that.”
“I want you to. I’m on birth control anyway.” Long gone is the nervous girl standing on his porch and asking him to fix her lights. There’s a devious, lustful look in your eye and Jake’s pretty damn sure there’s magic in that look. All he knows is that it could make him do just about anything you asked of him. “Please?”
Jake swipes his thumb along the curve of your jaw, studying the depths of your irises for just a moment. He leans forwards and kisses your bottom lip, sucking at the plush skin, pulling away with his teeth. You swallow as he sits back, pushes his sweats down his legs and frees his swollen cock. From under him, you’ve got the perfect view.
Every ridge and valley in those impossible abs, each follicle of hair that lines his tanned chest, trailing down below his navel and sitting neatly around his pubic bone, trimmed just as neatly as his navy-standard hair cut. His cock is a good size, considerable even when he’s got one of his large hands wrapped around its base. Wide too, throbbing red at the tip, bending just slightly to the left.
Just looking has your mouth running dry.
Fisting his cock, Jake sits back on his heels and lets his gaze fall down to your glistening core once again. He looks down at your pretty face, then lowers himself between your legs, pressing his chest into yours, kissing you dizzyingly hard.
“You want it?” Jake asks one last time.
“I want it.” You answer him, smiling softly back at him, squeezing your thighs around his hips.
You’re looking up at him with such trust in your eyes that Jake can barely stand it. His heart thuds in his chest as he guides the tip of his cock between your folds, hesitating just briefly. There’s already no coming back from this. There’s no way to make up for the things he has already done. You’re so special, and he wants this so bad.
Your mouth sucks softly at his throat, quiet, pleased sounds spilling from your lips as he grinds the tip of his cock against your sensitive clit. Jake kisses your shoulder softly, then lowers his head to rest there as he drags his cock down to your warm entrance. You gasp softly as he presses into you, pushing forwards until he’s buried and stretching you open completely.
“Oh,” You whimper against his earlobe, pressing your nails into the swell of his shoulder blade. “You feel really fucking big.”
“So fuckin tight.” Jake grunts, his throat thick with desire as he stills inside of you, thumbs bruising into your hips. “Sweet fucking girl. Feel like you’re made just for me.”
This makes you smile into the curve of his jaw, humming in soft agreement as he starts to slowly rock his hips. Lightning flashes outside of the window, and it doesn’t matter one bit. The rest of the world is a million miles away. In here, it’s just the two of you.
“Oh fuck,” Jake shivers, eclipsing your throat with his hand, pulling you in for a heavy kiss, licking into your mouth as he drags his hips back until it’s just the tip. You gasp sharply against him as he snaps his hips forwards until he’s buried into you completely once. “Fuck. You like that?”
“Yeah. I want it like that.” You whimper into his skin, hugging your legs tight around his hips. You moan eagerly against his lips, the sound catching in your throat as he squeezes at the sides of your neck and drives his hips forwards sharply, drawing an excited squeak from your parted lips.
Jake grunts, rocking himself into you hard and fast. He’s waited so long for this, and so have you. The way you’re clawing at his back makes him want to give it all to you. Leaving feverish kisses along your collarbones, he fills you over and over. You curl both legs tighter around his waist, leaning your head back as far as you can against the couch cushion to give his lips better access to your throat.
The living room is filled with the sounds of your sex. Your desperate moans, panting and hard. Jake’s pleasured grunts, muffled softly by the curve of your shoulder. His skin slapping yours. It smells like him, smoky and mature. Sweat beads along his back and his forehead as he keeps up that merciless pace, fucking you so hard that you couldn’t tell him your own name anymore.
Jake pulls back just enough to grab the backs of your thighs and pin them to your chest, hooking your knees over his shoulders, filling you even deeper than before, making you cry out.
“Jake!” You beg, babbling incoherently into the curve of his shoulder as he goes right back to the pace he set before. Fucking you hard and fast, scrambling your brain to the point that the only thing on your mind is the ravenous way he’s staring down at you.
Your walls are squeezing around him perfectly and the sounds you’re making are just driving him insane. It’s been a long time since Jake felt as crazy about someone as he feels about you. He pants into the crook of your neck as his fingers tug at your hair, making you moan out even louder.
“I’m gonna cum — fuck, honey,” Jake grunts out like he’s been punched, his eyes screwing shut as he reaches between your bodies and rubs uniformed circles around your clit. “Are you close? — Can you cum one more time for me?”
“Yeah,” You breathe out, already trembling as you squeeze your thighs tighter around him. “Just—“ You don’t have the words, so you just reach out and grab his hand. Jake swallows hard as you wrap his open hand around the column of your throat and look up at him with that big, trusting look in your eyes again.
He grits his teeth as he squeezes at the sides of your throat, watching your sweet face contort in pleasure. Your hand dips between your legs and replaces where Jake’s had been, rubbing feverish patterns on your clit. Your stomach tightens in knots, your breathing grows heavy and Jake’s cock drives into you at just about the perfect angle each time. You open his mouth to warn him, but it’s already too late. You couldn’t find the words if you tried.
All you can do is grab onto those thick shoulders and cry out his name against the salty skin of his neck. Jake slows just slightly, offering you some reprieve through your sensitivity. Trying to be a gentleman once again. The brain fog starts to clear, you lift your head and press your lips to your earlobe.
“Cum in me,” You pant out, grabbing his shoulder to steady yourself. Jake groans against your chest, nodding his head feverishly. “Just like that, Jake, please.”
He’s relentless, fucking your through the sensitivity of your post-orgasm haze hard enough that grabbing onto those broad shoulders is the only thing that keeps you down to earth with him. Jake groans desperately. He wraps an arm under your back and pulls you as tight against him as physics will allow. You gasp softly, taking your lip between your teeth as he fills you, his cock throbbing against your walls. He seeks out your lips and kisses you hard, somehow more desperate now.
“Fuck, honey…” Jake breathes out, pressing a lazy kiss to the curve of your jaw. He makes no effort to move at first. “You alright?”
“Better than alright.” You answer contentedly, a soft smile toying at your lips as lightning flashes outside once again. Jake chuckles tiredly, lifting his head and kissing your lips.
He sighs, moving slow as he slips out of you and looks down at his cum dripping from between your legs.
“Oh, shit!” You realize, sitting up quickly and trying to reach around Jake for something to clean it with. He hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you tight against him. Truthfully, from the moment that you had laid your head on Jake’s abs, you hadn’t thought once about the consequences of fucking him right here in this spot.
“Forget it, I’ll — I’ll fix this,” He tells you calmly, already regretting that he’s going to have to live with what he has done on this couch. “Come on, cutie. Let’s go take a shower.”
It’s clear that this is foreign territory for you. Not the sex, but what comes after. He didn’t get up and leave. He didn’t run away with regret for what he did. He ran soap across your body and found your pyjamas for you.
You swallow softly, walking to sit on the edge of your bed. Jake runs a hand along his stubbled jaw as he lingers in the doorway to you room. You can’t help but notice that he got dressed again. Including his shoes. He looks you over, sitting there in fresh pyjamas, staring at him with that worried little look on your face.
He hasn’t ever seen your room here. It’s probably the one room in the house he has never been in. He’s been wondering what it’s like.
But that isn’t why he’s standing there. He sighs softly and crosses his arms over his chest.
“I should go — I mean, Ace is over there by himself.” Jake says quietly. You nod at him. You should probably say something too, but truthfully, not all of your words seem to have come back into your mind yet. “Are you coming with me?”
“Huh?”
“Well, I don’t wanna leave you over here by yourself after that weird ass movie.” Jake answers you with a shrug of his shoulders. “I figured you could just spend the night. If you want.”
Your mouth twitches at the corners as you push yourself up from the edge of your bed, nodding eagerly at him. You’ve got eleven days until your parents get back in town, and Jake permitting, you’re planning on making the most of that.
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wildbornsiren · 1 year
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Kinktober Day 22: Bondage || Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader
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Bondage. 
Summary: Trust is earned, and rewarded. 
1412 words. Female/AFAB reader (established relationship)
Warnings: EXPLICIT MINORS DNI: use of restraints, spreader bars, blindfolds, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex. Established D/s relationship. 
Notes:  For #kinktober2022. Please follow @wbslibrary​ since tag lists are gone. (I appreciate ya’ll so much but it was stressing me out, and I was worried I’d miss someone). Comments and sharing let me know you love me, likes are appreciated. Thank you so very much for reading. It’s so appreciated and means the most.
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A quiet getaway, just the two of you. Jake had been overwhelmed with work, and finally caved taking some leave. The two of you had escaped to a hideaway in the mountains, surrounded by wilderness, the nearest point of civilization forty-five minutes away. The cabin overlooked a meandering river, evergreen forest stretching out for miles. The two of you had wrapped up in blankets, sharing a lounge chair on the porch as the sun set. Jake’s hands had worked their way under your hoodie, fingers brushing gently up and down your stomach. His chest is so warm and solid, his chin resting on your shoulder, the three days’ worth of scruff tickling your neck.
“You want to fool around?” He asks softly. You can feel his smile as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck.
“It sounds like you’ve got something in mind.”
“That thing we talked about a few weeks ago.” Jake says. “Are you feeling comfortable with it tonight?”
His hand stills, giving you the chance to think. You nod, tipping your head to capture his mouth with your own. “I want to explore that with you.”
“Remember the safe word?” He kisses the corner of your mouth.
“Yes,” you say, chasing another kiss. “How do you want me, Jake?”
He groans softly. “Strip down for me. Wait seated on the bed. Eyes closed, lights off, curtains open.” You kiss his cheek before removing yourself from his lap and heading inside.
The bedroom is spacious, one wall floor to ceiling windows, the moonlight streaming in, providing gentle illumination. You pull your hoodie and t-shirt off, hands trembling a little bit when you shove your jeans down your hips, kicking them aside. It takes a few more moments of mentally calming yourself before you toss your bra and panties across the room and sit down on the edge of the bed. The blankets are soft, bed comfortable (the two of you hadn’t left it the day after you arrived). Taking another steady breath, you close your eyes when you hear the sliding glass door that led to the patio open.
“Look at you,” Jake says. “You’re beautiful.” His fingertips, gentle and sure, tip your chin up to kiss your mouth softly. You sigh, feeling the wide strip of satin brush your skin, Jake fastening the blindfold in place. His touch is always electric, but now it’s even more exhilarating, his mouth and fingers mapping the curves of your breasts, down to your stomach.  His hands slide over your knees, and he parts your legs, the scruff on his jaw so rough against your calf. Another kiss, this time to your ankle. The metallic click of the cuff closing sent shivers down your spine. It’s lined so it’s not uncomfortable, though the stretch when he extends the bar, keeping your legs open for him makes you groan.
“Color baby?” Kisses rain down the inside of your thigh, his tongue swiping a broad stroke against your exposed cunt before he’s still.
“Green.” You murmur.
“Good girl.” He climbs onto the bed with you, draping himself over your back. “Can you lift your hips, or do you need help?” You manage to lift yourself so he can work a pillow under your hips, giving you more support. His hands are so warm as they ease down your shoulders, fingers interlocking with yours. He kisses each of your knuckles, before he’s gently bringing your arms behind you. You breathe through the stretch in your chest, feeling the muscles loosen slightly. He ties your wrists together, the silk rope warming to your skin as he does so.
“I’m going to help you lay back. I’ve got you.” His lips are against the shell of your ear, teeth nipping slightly. You can hear him moving backward, gently easing you down onto your back. Your head hits another pillow, and you sigh, feeling any residual tension leaving your body.
“Feels good.” You murmur. His hands are on you again, blunt nails scraping your thighs. Goosebumps erupt on your arms and torso, body arching as much as you can. His mouth follows his fingers, tongue soothing over the scratches.
“Color?” He asks again, his teeth sinking into your thigh.
“Green, please Jake…” your voice breaks slightly. “I need.”
“I’ve got you, sweet girl.”
If he only knew how true that statement was. He had every part of you, every smile, thought, moan, sensation was his. You wanted to give him everything and let him hold onto it until time ceased to be. Jake whispers praise to you, the words melting into your body, igniting every nerve ending. His fingers ease into you effortlessly, thrusting two into you, curling them just right, finding that spongy spot that makes you shake.
“Oh fuck,” he nips at your hip. “You’re so wet baby, so perfect just for me.” He licks, tongue teasing where his fingers stretch your entrance. His lips close over your clit, sucking teasingly, continuing to work his index and middle finger into you. “Come for me when you can.” He’s relentless, taking you higher and higher, the pleasure building low in your belly. You nearly bite through you lower lip when you come, body arching off the bed, your hands clenching together, unable to touch him, anything.
“Jake, Jake…” His name falls from your lips, an unholy hymn of need. He kisses you, sloppy and panting against your mouth. You can taste him, yourself, his tongue sliding past your lips.
“You did so well for me.” He murmurs “Can you take a little bit more?”
You nod frantically, before finding your voice. “Yes, yes I can.”
“I’m going to release your legs.” He kisses your mouth again. “I need to have them over my shoulders.”
The bed shifts, and his hands are so gentle when he releases the cuff on the spreader bars. Nimble fingers massage any ache from your calves, his tongue dragging up your leg, tasting sweat and salt. The sound of his zipper lowering and the drop of his pants, paired with his low groan made you shiver. Jake settles between your legs, gently drawing them up, over his shoulders. The slow, steady slid of his cock makes your toes curl—he doesn’t stop until he’s bottomed out. His arms are on either side of you, you can feel the effort it takes him to hold his weight back.
“Still with me darlin’?” He whispers. He’s so deep, you can feel his chest moving against your as he breathes.
“Yes sir,” behind the blindfold your eyes flutter closed. It’s all too much, his weight, the press of his hips against yours, the steady pace he sets as he thrusts into you. You feel like you’re floating and he’s the only thing keeping you grounded. “Please kiss me.”
“Good girl, tell me what you need.” He moves, hips rocking harder into you, his mouth closing over yours. He swallows the sounds you make, losing himself in the kiss. “Just a little more sweetheart, I’m so close. You look so pretty like this, feel so goddamn good.” He’s babbling against your temple, his sweat dripping onto you. He’s all consuming, and yet you want more. Need him to take you completely, to belong to this man who is whimpering such delicious sounds into your ear.
Jake comes, spilling into you with another needy moan. He’s still for a few moments, breathing each other in. He’s so gentle when he pulls out. He kisses your temple, gently sliding his arm around your shoulders, lifting you easily from the bed. You slump against him, nuzzling into his warmth, mouthing at his jaw. He unties the knots, sliding the rope from your skin. You wiggle your fingers, rotating your shoulders the feeling not entirely unpleasant.
“You with me?”
“Right here, with you.”
A water bottle is pressed to your lips, and you gulp eagerly. “Slow down darlin’.” He takes it away, wiping an errant drop from your mouth. “Close your eyes, the blindfold is coming off.” The satin is damp with tears from overstimulation, the air in the room cool on heated skin. He kisses you again, fingers gently rubbing at your scalp.
When you open your eyes, you see the golden man, grinning shyly at you in the silver of the moonlight. He reaches for you, pulling you to him, falling onto the bed. He rubs your back gently, your ear pressed to Jake’s chest listening to his heartbeat.
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glenpowellsgf · 6 months
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my man 🤭🤭
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justfandomwritings · 2 years
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Who Did This To You? (Hangman)
Pairing: Hangman x Female!Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 10.2k because I have no self control
Summary: In your most vulnerable hour, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin is the one to find you, and the one to ask you the ultimate question. "Who did this to you?"
Warnings: Mentions of Abuse and DV (NOT committed by Jake), nongraphic description of resulting injuries, a very one-sided bar fight, mention that a character is going to therapy, insults and confrontation by a past abuser. (This story is a who did this to you trope. While it is only dealing with the 'who did this to you' aftermath of what was done, please keep that in mind.)
Notes: This is just an excuse to write the who did this to you trope. This is self indulgence at its finest.
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“Who did this to you?”
Your head shot up a little too quickly at the unexpected company, and the world began to spin all over again. With a groan, you laid your head back on the bartop, hoping the flat wood would help the world right itself faster.
You’d been lying there with your forehead pressed on the cool wood of the bar, sitting directly under an air vent, for the better part of thirty minutes. The Hard Deck’s AC was working overtime to keep the heat outside, and the rush of cold air blowing down the back of your shirt was doing wonders for your sore arms and back. 
“Hurricane, who did this to you?”
You hadn’t been expecting anyone to be there. Everyone else was down at the beach. You thought you’d have some time alone to lick your wounds and cover your bruises and emotionally recover from what had happened that morning. Penny was too busy watching Maverick. The aviators were too engrossed in a new game Maverick had invented called dogfight volleyball, and the bar was technically closed at this hour. You thought you could slip by and start your shift sight unseen. 
“Hurricane,” The voice was firm, but not demanding. Underwritten with a tone of concern that was very uncommon to that particular voice. “Hurricane,” it repeated. 
You opened your eyes and rolled your head to lay facing the voice’s direction and made eye contact with Hangman. 
You knew it was him before you turned, but for some reason you still did. 
Backlit by the sun’s rays bouncing off his perfect golden hair with an open button-up billowing in the sea breeze, he stood in sharp contrast to your current state. Like an angel stepping out of heaven and into hell. 
In some ways, this was your worst case scenario. Hangman was definitely not your favorite pilot and was very close to your least, and he was certainly not your friend. You were at best frenemies and even that was a stretch. The pair of you had been constantly bickering and making snide comments behind the other’s backs since practically the moment you made eye contact with each other. He intentionally made your life difficult behind the bar, and you rang the bell on him on multiple occasions. 
He was responsible for everyone calling you Hurricane. You’d come crashing through the doors on your first day working at the Hard Deck with a torrential downpour following you in from outside. A drowned cat would’ve looked less soaked through and pathetic than you, and the moment Penny introduced you to the squad, he’d made a snide remark about the Hurricane you brought with you. The rest was history. It became like a callsign to them; your name long forgotten by most. The only pilot who didn’t call you Hurricane now was Bob, and it ground your gears just a little bit more every time you heard it. 
On the other hand, this might’ve been the best case scenario. Hangman wasn’t someone who was going to make a big show of this. He wouldn’t rush down to the beach and ask for help. He wouldn’t fawn over you or ask you if you were okay a million times. He wouldn’t expect you to cry on his shoulder and incessantly pick at you until you broke down. 
“Who did this to you?” Hangman took a step in from where he’d frozen in the door out to the patio.
His expression was like his voice, hard and firm with undertones of the worry that anyone would be feeling in this situation. Hangman wasn’t the nicest guy you knew, but you knew from the other pilots stories of the many times he’d saved their lives that he wasn’t evil, and you didn’t doubt for a moment that he’d at least be somewhat concerned even if he didn’t care particularly for you. 
“You already know who.”
It was true. Devin had been in the bar about once a week for the last six months that you’d been dating. He’d made the rounds through the aviators, none of whom particularly liked him but all of whom had been polite enough not to say anything… except Hangman. 
The second Devin left after his first introductions, Hangman had made his distaste known. ‘Something’s off about that guy,’ he’d said before the door even closed. Phoenix had teased him about being jealous that his snarky banter was no longer the center of your world, but you’d seen it for what it was. A combination of being angry he wasn’t the center of attention and looking to defy you at every turn that was a uniquely Hangman blend. 
Hangman approached you slowly, taking one deliberate step at a time. Every step with such obvious forethought that it gave you the time and the option to back away. A detail you wouldn’t have expected from such an ego-centric man. 
You didn’t back away. Hangman was a lot of things, most of them negative, but you could say with absolute certainty that you weren’t afraid of him. For all the times you’d yelled at him, you’d never been scared of his physicality, and for all the times he'd yelled at you, his hand had never so much as twitched. 
Standing beside you, under the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights that threw your skin into sharp relief, Hangman had a full view of the damage. 
“That fucker,” his voice was a harsh, raspy whisper, “I’m gonna kill him.” His hand seemed to lift of its own accord. Flat, open palmed and always within your line of sight, he reached up and stroked his fingers along your cheekbone with a feather-light touch. 
“I already dumped him.” You don’t know why you felt like explaining yourself to Hangman of all people, but maybe it was the determination in his eyes. The way he stared down at your cheek like his eyes could will the twing of pain away. 
Hangman gave a half-hearted, inattentive nod. “That’s certainly a start.” He looked like gears were turning in his head, like he hadn’t given up on his first idea. 
A flood of memories came back to you. 
‘The only active duty pilot with a confirmed air-to-air kill.’ Coyote, introducing Hangman.
‘We call him Bagman, cause he’ll kill anyone and get anyone killed. He doesn’t seem to mind.’ Omaha commenting on Hangman’s aim at the dartboard. 
‘That’s his second air-to-air kill.’ Bob, telling you what he could about the mission they’d just come back from. 
‘Hangman’s deadly in the sky. I wouldn’t wanna cross him.’ Rooster, finally being honest about what he thought of Hangman, after the blonde saved his life. 
Hangman had killed before, and in his line of work, with his level of skill, likely would again. He definitely didn’t mean what he said, certainly not literally. He wasn’t about to rush out to his truck and go hunting Devin in the streets, but it wasn’t something he of all people would say entirely jokingly either. 
You slowly sat up in your chair. The world was spinning less now. Whether that was because the nausea was finally passing or because Hangman’s hand stayed on your cheek, grounding you in the moment, it was unclear. “I appreciate your concern,” you hedged, “but really, I’m fine. I can handle myself.”
Hangman snorted and let his hand fall away. “Obviously you can; you already kicked his ass to the curb on your own. Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna kill him for good measure.” Hangman hopped up on the bar and swung his legs over. 
You probably should’ve objected to his comfort level invading your workspace. Penny was very explicit that no one was allowed behind the bar who didn’t work there and even more explicit that that applied to all naval aviators. Somehow, though, you doubted Hangman would rat you out, at least not today. 
“Are you going to tell Penny?” Hangman mozied around behind the bar, picking up a rag and tossing it over his shoulder. He was looking for something, but he didn’t seem inclined to ask. You weren’t any more inclined to offer. 
It would’ve broken whatever moment was passing between you. Caring? Camaraderie? You weren’t sure, but there was certainly some level of understanding that remained largely unspoken. 
Hangman found what he was looking for in short order anyway. He flipped open the ice cooler and pulled the rag off his shoulder, filling it with a scoop of ice and tying the ends. 
“Not now,” you were disinclined to bring it up to Penny. 
The Hard Deck was a Navy bar, and Penny had made a lot of powerful friends. Hell, you had a lot of powerful friends if you were willing to use them; one of them, or at least a powerful person who was willing to help you, was standing right in front of you. You could only imagine what would happen to Devin if you told anyone. All of it would be deserved of course, but you doubted most of it would be legal. And that really wasn’t what you needed right now, and you weren’t ready to have that conversation anyway. 
“Hold this to your cheek. You wanna get the swelling down,” In a reversal of roles, he leaned against the bar in the place that was normally yours and offered you his makeshift ice pack. 
You took it with a quiet, “Thank you.”
Hangman nodded with a thoughtful expression, watching your hand raise it to your cheek, “I’ll let you tell them in your own time, but you’re going to go to someone to help you through this until then… professionally.” 
It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t leaving room for debate. It was an order as plain as any he got in the Navy. 
You nodded wordlessly against the ice pressed to your face. It was a reasonable expectation, a reasonable request. You weren’t sure if you needed it or not, but you supposed that was the point. You weren’t sure. Better to go too soon than too late. 
“Good,” Hangman sighed, seeming relieved, and pushed off the bar. His muscles flexed with the motion, bulging against the short sleeves of his open button-up shirt. They remained tense as he crossed his arms over his chest. His teeth gritted behind his closed lips. “I’ll keep him out of the bar.”
“Hangman, you really don’t have to-” 
“He hurt you.” Hangman cut you off with a dismissive wave of his hand. He looked serious, deadly serious. “That’s all I need to know. He’s not welcome here anymore.”
Before you had the chance to respond, not that you were entirely sure how you would, Hangman’s eyes left yours, staring at something over your shoulder out towards the beach.
“Do you have any makeup for that cheek?”
Your head turned, and you saw the outlines of Penny and Mav, arm in arm, making their way back to the bar. “Yeah,” you replied, “But my shoulder is a different story. I need to go find…”
Hangman jerked his button up off his shoulders and balled it up, tossing it across the bar to you. “Go quick. Put this on.”
“Hangman, I-”
“Go.” Hangman urged, and you ran off before Penny could see the two of you.
—------------------------------------------------
Your phone kept buzzing in your pocket, but you didn’t have time to check it.
You thought you knew what it was. Phoenix demanding to know why one of Jake Seresin’s shirts was wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman’s weren’t as distinctive as Bradley’s, usually solid colors with a barely-there logo on the pocket. None of the guys had noticed you were wearing it, but you knew Phoenix had the moment she came back in from the beach. She’d shot you a disappointed, skeptical look and immediately begun whispering to Bob as they walked away with their drinks. 
Penny hadn’t been much better. She hadn’t identified which pilots’ shirt it was like Phoenix clearly had, but she was two steps away from asking when the evening rush began to pour in without any sign of slowing down. 
The Hard Deck was slam-packed, and none of the bartenders had a second to spare. The newest class of TopGun recruits were graduating within a week, and it seemed that everyone had turned out for the upcoming occasion.
The bar was crowded with faces new and old. All of the graduating pilots were scattered around, and most of their instructors had made their way in at some point. Some of the pilots had families, wives and girlfriends, who had flown in and accompanied them to the bar that night. There were more than a few old friends in town to visit or siblings using the graduation as an excuse to get away. 
Even most of Mav’s squadron was there. Penny’s old flame had claimed a spot by one of the dart boards, and his lieutenants were all taking turns trying to dethrone Hangman as the king of darts. Normally, they would have migrated to the pool tables by now, but the bar was too crowded for even TopGun’s finest to leverage their way into skipping the line to have a game. 
One of the soon-to-be graduates hunkered down at the bar, some asshole who was billing himself as the new and improved Hangman, kept snapping his fingers at you to try to get your attention from behind the bar. You were dangerously close to ringing the bell on him the next time he did it, and Penny’s fingers were clearly itching to do the same. Tragically, neither of you thought that was a very good idea. Tonight might’ve been the one night where it was simply too busy to ring the bell.
There were so many people you couldn’t see past the sea of bodies pressing in around you, and it was a miracle that you didn’t bolt from the claustrophobia.
Marg after marg. Old fashioned after old fashioned. Beer after beer. The line never seemed to stop, and it was taking its toll on you. Tonight was simply not your night.
“Go,” Penny’s hand touched your shoulder and made you jump, spilling some of the tequila shot you were trying to hand off. “I’ll clean that. You look like you need a break. Take five.”
Normally on a busy night, you would’ve protested, insisted you could hold down the fort and done your best to help Penny push through the rush, but not that night.
Your shoulders slumped in relief, and you ducked under the gap in the bar without much of a second thought, pushing your way through the people towards the door to the kitchen. There was a ‘broken’ stool by the door to the kitchen that was in fact not broken at all but had a sign taped to it that said it was specifically so it was open for when workers were on break. The seat provided some much needed relief for your aching feet and even more aching shoulders.
Shaking cocktails was really aggravating the bruises just beneath the button up wrapped around your shoulders, and you found yourself hurting almost twice as much as normal this shift. That might’ve been why you felt like you were moving in slow motion the whole time. That or the sheer number of people had simply made the task seem insurmountable.
You were just closing your eyes and leaning back against the wall when your phone in your pocket buzzed again.
It wasn’t really a conscious decision to check it, more habit than anything else. And really, you hadn’t expected it to be anything that bad. You hadn’t heard from him all day. 
But there it was. His name. His name a half a dozen times over the course of your shift. Each text progressively more urgent and pressing than the last.
‘I’m  still coming to pick you up from work.’
Bile rose up in your throat, and you suppressed the overwhelming urge to bolt. The room was suddenly too hot and too crowded, and there were too many faces. Faces you recognized and faces you didn’t. A wash of faces that was the perfect place for him to hide, to wait, to lurk around for the opportune moment to reveal himself.
You couldn’t do this, couldn’t deal with this. Not here. Not now. Not in front of all these people. Not alone. 
You did the first thing that came to mind. 
It was stupid really. You couldn’t explain why it occurred to you, why you acted on it so immediately, why you thought it was a good idea at all. It probably wasn’t; it could just as easily have backfired in your face as anything else. But your gut told you it was what you should do. Really, your gut didn’t so much tell you as wrench you in that direction with an undeniable force. 
“Hey can I talk to you for a sec?” 
Hangman was an easy man to find, even despite the crowd, strutting around the dart boards like he owned the place, which he very nearly did, rubbing the other pilots noses in his shots that were somehow better blindfolded than theirs were with sight.
You interrupted him boasting loudly to Fanboy and Payback about how he didn’t even need to practice. Perfect marksmanship just came naturally to him. The rest of the pilots were all gathered at the high tops near the darts boards, mostly rolling their eyes. They were having some kind of tournament, or rather a competition to see if anyone could take Hangman down. 
Payback seemed almost too happy for the interruption, but Fanboy was a bit more perceptive, at least at the moment. Fanboy’s eyes darted away to Phoenix’s table, and you saw the jerk of his head when he caught her eye. Funneling the female aviator’s attention in the direction of what was unfolding. 
You, wearing Hangman’s shirt since he disappeared for half an hour earlier that day, asking to talk to him alone near the end of your shift. You knew exactly what it looked like. 
“Sure.” Hangman’s tone was completely casual, not giving anything away, but when his back turned on his companions, his eyes were burning. You quickly looked away from his gaze and led him from the group.
“I wasn’t checking my phone.” The words were tumbling out of your mouth the moment he was out of the others’ earshot. You didn’t even bite your tongue long enough to turn around. “He’s been texting me my entire shift. He was supposed to be my ride home tonight, and I think he might show up soon.”
When you faced Hangman, you knew the panic in your voice and in your eyes was painfully obvious. Now that you were semi-alone with him, with someone who knew, there was no hiding how much it jarred you. Your hands fumbled with your phone trying to show him the flood of texts you’d gotten, unnoticed, over the last two hours. 
Hangman didn’t look down even as you turned the phone to show him. His jaw was already clenched; his expression was agitated, visibly angry. His eyes weren’t looking at you or the phone. They were searching the faces in the crowd similar to the way yours had only moments before though far more thorough. The honed, trained eye of a military fighter pilot meticulously picked through the crowd for its target, finding nothing. 
“Could you…” You hesitated to ask. It was such a ridiculous request. Just yesterday, Hangman would’ve been your absolute last choice to be in this position with; you would’ve risked handling it alone before asking for his help. But here he was. The only one who knew. The first one you asked. “I’ll give you a round on the house for it. I just… Would you mind giving me a ride home? I don’t want to stumble on him alone.”
Hangman didn’t hesitate or pull his eyes from where they continuously scanned the crowd, as if his gaze alone was enough to keep a threat at bay. “No beers required, Hurricane.” The words seemed to be coming out of his mouth even as you offered. Like he’d already decided what he was going to do the minute you told him the problem. “Wait here a sec? I’ll handle it.”
Hangman walked the short distance over to the bar, glancing back over his shoulder at you every few steps like he was making sure you hadn’t disappeared, and flagged down Penny. Something on his face must’ve told her it was urgent because she forwent several regulars and big tippers demanding drinks to beeline towards him. He leaned over the bar and whispered something in her ear, gesturing back in your direction. 
Penny looked concerned, and she nodded along with what Hangman was saying until he turned to leave. 
“If Penny asks,” Hangman put a hand on your shoulder, a firm grip holding you to his side as he led you through the throng of people towards the exit, “a guy was bothering you, and I drove you home cause you were scared of him.”
“Not entirely a lie,” You mumbled, shifting closer into Hangman’s side.
No one tried to stop you. No hands reached out for you. No one called out your name. You made it through entirely unscathed. You could feel eyes on you, but they didn’t raise the hairs on the back of your neck. You doubted, highly, that they were Devin’s. More likely, Hangman’s squadron were watching him retreat from the bar with you under his arm without so much as a goodbye. More likely, they were plotting and planning the questions they were going to hound the two of you with the next time they saw you. More likely, Phoenix was pointing out to everyone that you were wearing Hangman’s shirt.
—------
“Does he have a key?” Hangman didn’t break the silence until he’d turned onto your block, until he’d brought his truck to a slow crawl, looking for your tiny, inconsequential cookie cutter house in a row of tiny, inconsequential cookie cutter houses. 
Yours was pretty much the only house without a Navy flag or Navy paraphernalia of some description sitting in the yard or stuck to a car in the driveway. The neighborhood was not far from the Hard Deck which was not far from the base, and the tiny houses geared towards first-time-buyers were crawling with Navy pilots and newlywed military couples who wanted to live offbase.
You were on the second sidestreet, the third house on the left. Hangman already knew the way without instruction. Penny had conned every Top Gun pilot with a car into driving you home at least a couple times. And while Hangman was usually the pilot she was least willing to ask, he was also the only one who was guaranteed to always be sober. 
His question came out very sober. His usual lilting, teasing tone had dropped off somewhere today and never fully returned. 
“He did. He… he told me he lost it, but…” You both knew better than to believe that.
Hangman pulled into your driveway and flicked the truck into park and turned it off. “Tomorrow I’ll drive you to the hardware store, and we’ll change the locks.”
“You don’t have to…”
“Do you feel safe with him having a key?” Hangman cut you off. He was looking down at you with just a touch of condescension, so classically Hangman. Like he knew the answer already, like he knew you knew the answer already, and that you were silly if you pretended not to or refused him. 
You knew where this was going, and you thought about lying, just to relieve Hangman of whatever false sense of duty or obligation he had imposed on himself by being the one to find you at the Hard Deck. But it was way too late. Hangman wasn’t stupid, but he was incredibly, irritatingly stubborn. And he’d already set his mind to helping you through this. “No.”
“Then tomorrow morning I’ll change the locks.” Hangman threw his door open and hopped out of the truck. It slammed closed behind him as he circled around to your side. You made to open your door, but Hangman beat you to it. “Alarm services are expensive,” He continued, offering you a hand, “but they make door jammers that have sound alarms on them at least, and my sister bought some cheap window versions a while back that I could help install.” 
You took Hangman’s hand and dumbly followed him up to your door as he rambled on about extra door locks and doorbell cameras. All options that you could pick up tomorrow for him to put in. 
“That’s too much effort,” You halfheartedly protested as you spun your keys around trying to find the one to your front door. 
There really weren’t that many keys. There were a couple to the Hard Deck, one to the shed where Penny kept beach supplies, and one to Devin’s place that you hadn’t returned. They were all distinct shapes and colors, but you couldn’t seem to focus long enough to find the plain silver key to your own door. Maybe because you knew there was another one, exactly like it, somewhere across town at that moment.   
“Not if it makes you feel safe.” Hangman leaned back against your door frame, his eyes skimming up and down your block as if he was still on alert in the crowded bar, still looking for signs of trouble, signs of him. 
“Would you…” Your words trailed off as you watched his darting eyes. The question came bubbling up before you could stop it, before you even really thought of it. It was less a question and more a response to his vigilance, to the thought that his vigilance might be warranted and necessary. 
“Would I…?” Hangman didn’t let it go. His eyes turned to look at you.
You chewed at your bottom lip, debating if it was worth asking, debating if it was necessary. 
He probably thought it was, if his mannerisms were any indication, if his talk about alarms was any indication, if walking you to your door and watching your back were any indication. 
“Would you come in?”
Hangman raised a doubtful eyebrow, sure you didn’t mean what those words usually meant.
“Not like that, it’s just… You’re right. He probably still has a key, and if we can’t fix it till the morning…”
Understanding seemed to wash over his face, and Hangman kicked himself up off the door jam. “If it’ll help,” he immediately conceded. “I’ll sleep on your couch.”
“It…” You hesitated, but only for a moment. “I think it would.”
The silence inside your home was almost palpable. It was late enough that going to bed wouldn’t have been awkward for either of you, but neither of you were tired. And neither of you seemed up to faking being tired just to get away. 
Hangman sat on one end of the couch, and you sat on the other. At some point, you mustered the effort to turn on the tv. The local news was a quiet, bland drone of background noise cutting through the still air around the two of you.
You felt like you should say something. Maybe ‘should’ wasn’t the right word; maybe you wanted to say something. But either way you didn’t know where to begin.
You had only ever been alone with Hangman when he was dropping you off as a favor to Penny, times that were filled with snarky jokes and constant nagging from both of you, and earlier that day in the bar. You weren’t close. You weren’t friends. You were barely acquaintances. He was only here because he was in the right (or wrong, depending how you looked at it) place at the right time.
“Thank you,” That seemed like a good place to start. “For today, thank you.”
“You have nothing to thank me for.” Hangman countered quickly. His eyes stayed on the tv, though they were clearly out of focus staring at the screen. 
“I do though. You could’ve told everyone.”
“You weren’t ready for that.” He added it under his breath, countering without cutting you off.
“You could’ve left me to finish out my shift.”
“Not with him coming to the bar.”
“You could’ve left after you dropped me off.”
“He has a key.”
“You could’ve turned and walked out the door when you first saw me at the bar.”
Hangman let out a heavy sigh, not of annoyance or exasperation but a sigh weighed down with duty and concern. “No, I couldn’t.” 
Your eyes met his over the center of the couch, and a breath rushed out of your lungs under the intensity in his gaze.
—-------------------------------------
You woke up in your bed, mouth open, with more than a little drool pooling on your pillow. 
You had no memory of falling asleep there, of getting into bed, of going to your room at all. 
You remember being on the couch, talking to Hangman. You remembered the way his eyes, intense, open, and honest, compelled you to speak. The way you couldn’t bite back the story pouring from your lips. The story of Devin asking you out, of falling for him in those early weeks, of how he changed after you committed to him. The story of what he did that night, of his buddies who sat back and did nothing, of the jokes you heard the three of them cracking as you ran from the room.
You remembered Hangman crossing the space between you and putting a hand on your arm, how cautious he was touching you, how much time he left you to pull away, how gentle his touch was against your skin. You remembered throwing yourself into his lap, sobbing into his shoulder as he held you against his chest and rubbed soothingly up and down your back, whispering promises that that asshole would never hurt you again. 
You didn’t remember anything after that. You must’ve fallen asleep in his lap.
Sitting up, you found the answer to your unasked question.
A folded piece of notebook paper sitting on the pillow next to you:
‘Thought the bed would be preferable to sharing the couch with me. If I’m wrong and you wake up in the middle of the night and don’t want to be alone, you can always wake me up. If not, I’ll have coffee ready for you in the morning. - Jake.’
As you read, his words the night before echoed in your head to the beat of a nonexistent drum as you read the note once, then twice, then a third time.
‘No, I couldn’t.’
You carefully folded the paper up and tucked it in the top drawer of your bedside table. 
True to his word, Hangman was wide awake, standing in your kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee when you walked out of your room. 
“H-Hi,” you stuttered.
Last night, in the comfort of darkness, with exhaustion clouding over your mind and his arms holding you close, it had seemed the most logical thing in the world to open up to Hangman. And with the light of day glinting through the windows, with him dressed in the button up he’d wrapped around you the day before, with him lounging back against your counter as he sipped from your favorite mug, with an overconfident air that was too comfortable for any normal person’s first time in your home… It was odd to think that feeling hadn’t changed, that you still felt able to bare your soul to him, that you didn’t feel a need to run back into your room and get changed or freshen up, that you were perfectly comfortable being seen by him like this, a tired quaking  mess with puffy red eyes.
Part of you expected to walk out into your kitchen to an epiphany that you’d made a horrible mistake, that Hangman was exactly as much of a cocky asshole as you thought he was two days ago. But the epiphany never came.
“Morning,” Hangman took a sip of coffee and set the mug aside. He looked casual, at peace, like this was just another day, like he’d done this a million times. “I’m ready to go whenever you are. I found the toolbox in the bottom of your coat closet. Hope you don’t mind. We’ll probably need a few things if we’re gonna do anything more than replace the locks.”
“Y-Yeah,” You grabbed a mug off the drying rack and crossed the room to pour yourself a cup of coffee from the pot beside him, your shoulder brushing passed his as you poured. “Sounds good.”
“Hey.” Hangman seemed to immediately pick up that something was plaguing your mind. He didn’t reach out for you like last night, quite the opposite. He took a step away and turned to face you, crossin his arms over his chest, “If you want to be alone, I’ll head out. I’ll go to the store, pick up the locks, and change them myself. You can have time to yourself if you need it.” 
“No,” You immediately countered his obvious misinterpretation of your mood. “I-I don’t think I want to be alone. I’m just… antsy I guess.” 
He didn’t seem to fully buy it, but he let your excuse hang. “Okay then, we’ll head out when you’re ready.”
—----------------------
All day, as Hangman worked around your house first changing the locks then installing alarms then fixing a window that wouldn’t lock and then righting a wobbly chair leg that had absolutely nothing to do with your safety, neither of you mentioned the note he left or you crying in his arms or falling asleep on his lap or his quiet ‘No, I couldn’t’.
—--------------------------
You made a vow to yourself when Hangman finally left your house late Saturday afternoon. You were never going to ring up his card at the Hard Deck again. It couldn’t really repay what he’d done for you, the feeling of safety he’d brought to you in what was probably your most vulnerable moment so far on this earth, but you knew he wouldn’t want anything more showy. Hangman loved being the center of attention, but somehow you knew he wouldn’t want attention for this. 
True to your vow, the next Saturday evening, Hangman was on his third beer and had, unwittingly on his part, not paid a dime.
The Hard Deck was far less crowded that night. The graduating Top Gun candidates had all flown away, and only those currently stationed at the base, mostly Maverick’s squad, and some locals remained. A few dozen patrons milled around a room far larger than they needed with maybe a dozen pressed up to the bar. Most of the dozen fell under your responsibilities at the moment. Penny had, unintentionally, abandoned you not long before when Maverick had wandered in and taken up his usual stool. 
Omaha and Halo, the first aviators to arrive, had claimed one of the pool tables early in the night, and the rest of the squad had started rotating through matchups. It appeared Fritz was on a hot streak, one that was no doubt about to end as his next opponent in line was Hangman. 
All seemed right with the world. The constant buzz of voices, the crooning of the Goo Goo Dolls song that Bob had selected on the jukebox, the ready flow of beer to your usual patrons. Everything was fine.
Until the door opened one last time. Not that places of business ever ‘expected’ anyone because they hardly sent out invitations to come buy beer, but you really weren’t expecting anyone else that night. All the regulars were already inside.
The door banging against the wall as it was flung open was enough to draw your surprised eyes up to the entryway. 
Face lit by the sun setting over the beach through the windows on the opposite wall, he was unmistakable as he marched into view flanked by his two buddies. They immediately began scanning the room. 
Your breath rushed out of your lungs, exhaling in a gust that you couldn’t hold back any more than the wind. 
No, no, no. He wasn’t here. He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t confront you here. He couldn’t corner you alone.
There was no time to think, no time to check with Penny if it was ok to leave your station, no time to get to the door or bolt out the back. 
‘I’ll keep him out of the bar.���
It was your first instinct when you saw the text the weekend before, and it was your first instinct when you saw him that night.
“Hurricane?” Penny called after you as, without so much as a word in her direction, you ducked under the gap in the bar and made a beeline for the pool tables. 
You barely heard her, and if you did, it didn’t register. 
“Jake,” his real name leaving your lips was enough to draw most of his coworkers’ attention, all those in earshot at least. You grabbed his arm the second he was within reach, inadvertently clawing his skin with your nails as you pulled him up from where he was hunched over the pool table lining up a shot. 
Jake laughed and shrugged off your arm before he even turned around and saw who it was. “Hey,” he rubbed at the red marks in his skin, “I was just…” 
The words died on his lips when he turned and saw the panic in your eyes. It was brimming up inside you, overflowing and choking you off from every other sensation except the desperation for Jake to understand.
He knew better than anyone that there was only one thing that could make you look like that, feel like that. His head jerked up immediately in the direction of the door, as if he could sense the direction of the impending doom.
You watched the lighthearted smirk that constantly plagued his lips fall away. You watched the light in his eyes cloud over in darkness. As his gaze went up over your shoulder to the door, where one of the three men with angry expressions and dark eyes spotted your back amongst the khaki uniforms and began moving. 
Jake’s arm twisted in your grip and grabbed you by the elbow, jerking you unceremoniously behind his back. There was no time for pleasantries, no time to be nice about whatever he was about to do.
“Fanboy, stay with her.” Jake ordered over his shoulder to the nearest aviator. His gaze didn’t waiver from the three men approaching, even as he issued commands.  
Most of the aviators in Mav’s squad were scattered around the room. Mav was at the bar talking with Penny and Halo. Fanboy and Coyote had been watching Hangman school Fritz, who was being hyped up by Payback. Rooster was at a table not far from the pool game talking to a pretty girl. And Phoenix and Bob were half spectating from their perch by the jukebox discussing something that had gone wrong in a training run that afternoon. 
Fanboy caught you and held you up as Jake pushed you in his direction. “What’s going on?”
Jake didn’t answer. He side-stepped in front of you, half blocking you from view, and walked to the edge of the pool area. There was a buffer zone between himself and you. He was the first line of defense, and he was giving the second, Fanboy, room to react. 
“You fucking bitch!” If Fanboy didn’t know what was going on before, he instantly caught on. 
Fanboy’s arms tensed around yours. His back went rigged, as if a commanding officer had just called him to attention, and he curled away, pulling you back behind him and putting his body in front of you as a shield. Even with Fanboy hovering in the way, his body didn’t hide Devin’s eyes. They sought you out around Jake’s frame and over Fanboy’s shoulder; they found you huddled up behind the Navy uniforms and the fancy stars pinned to the pilots chests. No number of medals pinned to Jake’s chest could stop the chill that ran down your spine in response to the venom in Devin’s tone. You wanted to look away, but the daggers in his gaze skewered you in place, held you hostage. 
You wanted to curl up and hide, preferably behind Jake... Well, preferably in a home far away from there wrapped in heavy blankets with many deadbolts between you and Devin with Jake vigilantly standing guard at the door. 
Devin tried to walk straight past Jake, like he didn’t even see him. Jake wasn’t having any of it. 
A thick, muscular arm stuck out across the length of Devin’s shoulders as he tried to pass, holding him back.
Devin wasn’t a very big guy. He was well toned, but he was no naval aviator. He was no Jake Seresin. Jake had about an inch on Devin, but his well built frame made up for their near identical height. Devin had never been one to hit the gym hard while Jake certainly was, and it showed. It showed in the way a single arm without so much as a brace didn’t move even as Devin walked straight into it. 
If the rest of the bar weren’t looking when Devin shouted that you were a bitch, they certainly were when he glared up at Jake. “Out of the way you fucker!” 
Jake getting out of the way was about the last thing you wanted to happen, and Jake seemed disinclined to oblige either. His arm didn’t move from where it blocked Devin’s path, even as Devin glowered up at him.
The staring match lasted only a moment before Devin, impatient as always, gave up and turned back to glaring at you. He shouted, unnecessarily loudly, across the minimal distance between the two of you, “You changed the locks on me?” 
There was shuffling behind you and the sound of something clanging onto the pool table. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to turn your head away from Devin, couldn’t look away, couldn’t let him out of your sight. But there was the sound of footsteps as first Coyote, then Fritz, then Payback came into range in your peripheral vision. 
None of them knew what this was about, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where this was going. And any idiot could tell whose side they would be on in a fight between Jake and Devin. 
“She didn’t. I did.” Jake declared at a similarly loud volume, pulling Devin’s attention back on him, demanding Devin shift his focus off of you. “You got a problem with that, you take it up with me.”
Devin took a step back, finally abandoning his futile attempt to confront you in favor of squaring up to Jake. 
As Devin stepped back, the trio of pilots stepped forward. Fritz approached first, joining Fanboy in front of you. Payback followed after Fritz, lingering halfway between him and Jake, a bystander ready to step in if things got out of hand.
Coyote, however, had no questions about how any altercation would go down. His hand came down as he walked up behind Jake, slapping down reassuringly on Jake's shoulder to let him know he wasn’t alone. Coyote flanked Jake at such a close distance that it made it impossibly clear that, if this turned into a fight, it would not be three on one. 
It wouldn’t even be three on two for that matter. Devin’s buddies, who had crossed the bar with him had hung back a few feet, giving Devin the space he wanted to scream at you or confront you or whatever else he had been planning before Jake intercepted. The duo found themselves with two bar tables between them and Devin. One of which was, ever so unfortunately for them, occupied by none other than Bradley Bradshaw and his drinking companion. 
Devin’s friends would be forgiven for not realizing that they were offering up the chance to divide the group in half. Bradley, per usual, wasn’t in his Navy uniform, and a guy in a faded Hawaiian shirt didn’t exactly look intimidating. At least not while he was sitting down chatting up a pretty girl.
Seeing the escalation Coyote invited, and flashing his eyes to where you cowered behind his squadmates, Rooster got to his feet with a slow, lithe push off the table in front of him and turned his back on Devin. Not even bothering to give the belligerent asshole, currently one on two against Hangman and Coyote, the time of day, he turned his entire attention to the backup Devin brought with him. 
Never in your life had you been scared of any of the naval aviators, but there was something especially intimidating about the incredibly casual way Bradley put himself alone in a fight against two men. His relaxed stance, completely unbothered by the numbers game he was playing. His head, cocking to one side to crack his neck, and then the other. 
“You the latest pilot she’s spreading her legs for?” Devin snarled up at Jake, completely oblivious to what was going on behind him and unconcerned by Coyote’s presence. 
Jake was entirely unphased. His voice was calm and steady even as Devin’s got more and more red with each passing moment. “No, but I am a friend. And if you have a problem with her you’re gonna have to go through me…” Jake added as an afterthought, “And him,” jerking his head to Coyote.
“You think she’ll fuck you if you play hero?” Devin spat out the word fuck as if the thought of you and sex in the same sentence disgusted him. “You don’t gotta try that hard to get her to spread.”
Jake shrugged and casually dismissed the comment. “That’s really not my business or yours.” 
“She is my business; that’s my girl.” 
Devin jabbed a finger over Jake’s shoulder in your direction without looking away from Jake, and you instinctively shrunk further back behind Fanboy. Until you felt the material between your fingers, you didn’t even realize that your hand had reached up to fist the back of Fanboy’s uniform. 
You didn’t know, logically, why you were afraid. Whatever Jake was doing, he was doing a marvelous job of keeping Devin’s eyes off of you. You were absolutely certain that Devin would have to knock Jake out to get to you, not that he could even manage that. You were also absolutely certain that even if he did, he’d still have to make it through Rooster, Fanboy, Fritz, Payback, and Coyote, not to mention the dozen Navy guys from other squads currently spectating who would jump in to assist, or Penny or Mav. There was just something about his finger pointing at you, accusing you, that made that feeling of helplessness bubble up inside you again, that made you feel pinned, trapped under his hand.
“I’ll do whatever I want with her.”
It was like Jake knew or could sense your growing bubble of fear. He leaned ever so slightly to one side, like he was simply shifting his weight from foot to foot, before standing back up straight in between Devin’s finger and you.  
“Not anymore.” Jake declared firmly. “You’re already about a mile closer to her than I want you to be.”
That declaration made Devin’s lips twist up into something akin to a smirk. “I’ve been a lot closer to her than this.”
Jake’s shoulders tensed, and for the first time it seemed like Devin got to him. “I know exactly how close you got.” His voice darkened, and you could practically picture the look in his eyes, practically knew it by heart from the night you told him what Devin had done. “Where I’m from, we don’t treat women like that.”
Devin laughed humorously, heading tilting back to let the single tone ring out in the air. “Well we aren’t where you’re from. That’s my girl, and I’ll do what I want with her.”
You shivered involuntarily, like someone had dropped an ice cube down the back of your shirt. It sent a chill through you to think of Devin alone with you, doing what he wanted with you. You remembered what he did the last time he had that power over you. You couldn’t let it happen again.
“No,” It took a moment to register that Jake was the one snarling, not Devin, not even you. The word came out in a hiss between his teeth. “You’ll do what she wants. And right now she doesn’t want you here.” 
For whatever reason, Devin was getting to Jake. The unshakeable, unflappable Jake Seresin was rising to a rolling boil under the surface of his skin, and there was nothing he could do to hide it. From the tone of his voice to the tension in his shoulders, to the way his fingers twitched in and out of a fist, Devin and what he was saying was under Jake’s skin.
Devin saw it; you could tell. You couldn’t see his eyes around the bodies between the two of you, but you saw his posture change, his stance open up and his chest puff out. He leaned in and sneered, “She needed to be put in her place. She looks better roughed up anyway.”
You felt their eyes on you. The squad. The whole bar. None of them were actually looking at you. None of their heads turned, but you knew every one of them was staring at an image of you in their minds. Maybe they all figured it out before. Maybe they knew when Devin walked in or when Jake escorted you home. Or maybe they didn’t know anything at all, but either way Devin just gave them confirmation.
Payback was no longer content to play the bystander. His shoes clicked on the floor, echoing in the silence that existed throughout the bar as Jake and Devin sparred. He flanked Jake’s other side, shoulder to shoulder with him as Coyote had been since the confrontation began. 
Coyote didn’t move an inch except for the hand at his side that clenched into a fist. 
Jake took a step closer. But for the inch of height difference, he stood nose to nose with Devin as he said, “Where I’m from, a man lays his hands on a woman, and you take him out back and put one between his eyes.”
Devin pushed up, must’ve stood on his tiptoes to do it, to close the gap with Jake, to put himself on the same level as the pilot. “She’s mine, you fucker.” Flecks of spit, visible even at your distance, splattered against Jake’s cheek. “Get the fuck out of the way.” 
Devin’s hands came up and shoved Jake in both shoulders, hard.
Jake’s shoulders didn’t give an inch. His feet didn’t budge. His posture didn’t change. 
Jake’s voice dropped low, so low you barely heard it. If a single soul in the bar had been focused on anything other than the confrontation at hand, if the jukebox hadn’t run to the end of its queue of songs and left the bar in silence, if any more distance had been between the two of you, you wouldn’t have heard the rough, guttural retort from somewhere deep inside Jake’s chest, “You’re really, really gonna have to make me.”
Without warning, Devin swung.
He was standing too close to Jake, almost chest to chest with the taller aviator. There was no good angle from which to strike, and his arm took a wide arc away from his body to get the necessary momentum and distance to hit at Jake with any force.
It was like it moved in slow motion, Jake’s head turned, his eyes following the direction of the swing as it approached his face.
You gasped and clung tighter to Fanboy, who blindly reached back to clutch your arm, pulling you in closer to him.
The fear, entirely for Jake, was also entirely unnecessary.
Jake’s head leaned to one side and effortlessly avoided the blow. Devin stumbled a couple steps to the side as his momentum carried him past Jake.
It gave Jake the space he needed to counter, not with a wide, slow hook around to the side of Devin’s face, but with a swift, firm uppercut to his jaw.
The connection sent a crack echoing through the bar, and Devin’s entire body went slack before he even hit the floor.
Coyote caught his arm before he could collapse, not that it did Devin any good to be under Coyote’s care instead of Jake’s. Coyote’s grip was so tight on Devin’s upper arm that you were sure it would bruise not just the skin but the muscles underneath.
Jake bent down over the other man and bent a finger up under his jaw. Devin’s head tipped up into Jake’s face without any protest and fell back to bob loosely to one side the moment Jake wasn’t supporting him any more.
“He’ll be out cold for a while.” Jake declared, glancing up to give Coyote a nod.
Coyote dropped his grip on Devin and let him crumple unceremoniously to the floor.
“Now,” Jake left Coyote to deal with Devin, stepping over the unconscious body on the floor as one might step over a puddle in the street. He ambled over to Rooster, whose presence had been more than enough to hold off Devin’s two buddies for the brief ten seconds of fighting, if it could even be categorized as a fight.
“Are you two,” Jake wagged a finger between Devin’s two friends as he came shoulder to shoulder with Rooster, “the ones she told me helped him out last week? Cause I gotta bone to pick with them too?”
“No, we didn’t!” The shorter of the two declared loudly. “Look, we don’t want any trouble.”
Jake’s head turned to glance back over his shoulder, and for the first time since Devin confronted you, you made eye contact with Jake.
His eyes were hard, cold, unfeeling. He wasn’t angry anymore. He wasn’t upset or worried or fearful or any of the other emotions you felt warring inside of you. The mask was back on, the unflappable exterior that only you had seen beneath before tonight. He wasn’t waiting for them; he was waiting for you. A good soldier, waiting for his orders.
Imperceptibly to everyone but Jake who was watching you like a hawk, you shook your head. This had gone on long enough already tonight. You just wanted it to be over.
“Well then,” Jake turned back to the two friends in tow. “Why don’t you take your buddy and get out of here?” Jake stepped close, towering over the shorter one as he added, “Tell him if he comes back round here to bother her again; I will spend the rest of my life making sure he’s too afraid to even look at another woman.”
Beside Jake, Rooster began casually cracking the knuckles of his fist one by one, presumably for emphasis.
There was a dull thud that drew the quad of men’s attention back towards Devin.
Payback was squatting over the unconscious man. He’d seemingly been rooting through the other man’s pockets. The sound of his wallet dropping back onto Devin’s back was the noise that drew the men’s eyes and everyone else’s watching as a result.
Payback was waving a credit card in the air in Jake’s general direction.
“Good idea,” Jake wandered over and snatched up the card. “Call it payback for disturbing the bar tonight.” Jake’s teasing smirk was back as he used Payback’s callsign. He abandoned the group to amble back towards Penny at the bar, and his absence seemed to break the tension.
The patrons, scattered around, all began slowly turning back to their tables. The conversation was quieter, hushed whispers that were no doubt mostly about the fight they’d just watched ensue, but their eyes seemed to have drank in their fill of the scene.
Under the watchful eye of Rooster, with Coyote and Payback standing by, Devin’s two friends draped their friend unceremoniously across their shoulders. Despite the struggle they were clearly having, not a soul offered to help as they stumbled under his weight out of the bar.
“I hope they have to drag him to the car.”
You jumped and turned your head to find that at some point in the chaos Phoenix and Bob had come up on the other side of the pool table as a last line of defense.
“Please, I hope they faceplant in the gravel.”
You let out a humorous laugh at Phoenix’s comment as your body finally slumped under the weight of the evening, resting back against the pool table with a huff of air.
“Are you…”
“Fritz, if you ask me if I’m okay, I will walk out of this bar right now.” You held up a finger to silence him.
You were not okay. You would be okay, one day; you knew that much. But that day was not today.
In the distance, like you were hearing an echo from the other end of a long tunnel, you registered the bell ringing for a free round. Your vision was tunneling too, but you could make out Jake was leaning across the bar, ringing the bell himself as he slammed Devin’s card on the bar in front of Penny.
Maverick, always present in front of Penny’s bar, slapped him on the back and whispered something in his ear, but Jake seemed, for once, thoroughly uninterested in his commanding officer.
His eyes, you thought, appeared to be focused on you. He left the bar before he even got his own free drink and headed straight back towards the pool tables.
Coyote and Rooster tried to talk to him, but he brushed him off. By the time he reached Fanboy, still awkwardly hovering in front of you, his destination was clear, and Fanboy slid right out of his way.
“Come on,” Jake held out a hand to you. “Penny won’t mind if you don’t finish out your shift.”
It wasn’t a tunnel you were looking through now so much as a camera, the lens zooming in and zooming out, narrowing and expanding your field of vision around Jake.
Jake, the only thing in the world right now that felt safe, that felt ok.
You numbly, clumsily, flung your hand out to grasp his, and as his fingers laced through yours you thought you might have a different answer to Fritz’s question, not that you’d ever voice it.
—————————————
“Thank you.”
It was about an hour after you and Jake had left the bar.
He’d walked you out the back door of the Hard Deck and down the beach for the better part of half an hour before the two of you wordlessly agreed to find a comfortable spot to sit down in the sand.
The silence had been more comfortable than you ever thought silence with Jake could be. Every time he’d driven you home from the Hard Deck, he’d felt the need to fill every available moment with some kind of noise, compulsively turning up the volume on the radio or making snarky, sarcastic commentary about anything that passed by the window. Silence was not Jake Seresin’s forte.
Yet the silence between the two of you had felt like a comforting blanket, wrapping you in understanding. He already knew what happened between you and Devin; the hard part of that explanation was over. He already knew why Devin was there that night, what must have prompted him to show up, what he was hinting at in front of the whole bar. He knew nothing else about you, but he knew this, knew every detail of the most painful moment of your life, and he accepted it without question, gave you what you needed without question, helped you without question.
“You don’t have to thank me for doing the right thing for once in my life, Hurricane.” Jake murmured. “It’s a nice change of pace.”
You wished you could deny that, say that Jake was a great guy, say that he always did the right thing or that he was a good man. But the truth was he often wasn’t. He was flawed, deeply so, rude when it was uncalled for, inappropriate when the moment was serious, lewd when he should have been respectful, confrontational when he should have been kind. He was as flawed as any other human being, maybe more so.
But when you needed him he was there. When no one else was there, he was there. And that, to you, forgave any multitude of sins.
“What did Mav say to you when you left?”
“What?” Jake did a quick double take, looking down at you beside him. “Oh,” He chuckled to himself. “He said, ‘Good man, no push-ups tomorrow when I shoot you down.’”
“Well,” you smiled, “I owe you a lot more than a few push ups.”
“You owe me nothing.”
You squeezed his hand, his fingers which had been laced in yours since he led you out of the Hard Deck, “How about a second chance? If I remember correctly we didn’t get off to the best start.”
Jake smirked, “Not a chance am I starting over. You’re still my Hurricane.”
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