#controlled chaos squad

[desert-fern]

A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Part 1 - The Seal in the Bar

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

*the GIF belongs to @unicornships , but I found it on Pinterest for some reason*

A/N: So here we are! I am absolutely blown away by the response that my teaser generated, holy shit! And because you all seem to love Bear as much as I do, and because you crazy people have brought me to over 100 followers in 2 days, I figured that I would release Part 1 sooner than I planned!

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death (kill count and maybe a few other things), Jake being a flirt (which is it’s own warning)

Word Count: 2.5k

Read on Wattpad or AO3

Teaser >> Part 2

===

It was a miserable day when Jake walked into the Hard Deck. Training had been canceled due to shit weather and no matter how much of a workout he had had earlier, he was still as nervous as a scared cat in a room full of rocking chairs. The weather wasn’t helping either. It had been raining nearly all day, letting up for maybe 20 minutes at a time before it came pouring down again. Climate change was a serious concept, but right now it was fucking with his plans and his job and Jake very much wanted it to stop. Taking a quick glance around, he saw that there were a few patrons in the bar, mostly older men just sitting and drinking in near silence, the jukebox playing some classic rock song just loud enough to be heard. He had promised to meet Coyote here around 5 and seeing as he was early, Jake went ahead to order a drink. “Hey Penny.”

“Hangman,” Penny replied with a smile. “Your usual?”

“Nah, not drinking tonight. Too antsy. Just a water and Javy’s usual, thanks.” The blond glanced around the room as Penny went to grab his drinks and his eyes fell on a woman sitting quietly in the corner of the room, silently watching each and every person in the bar with an almost clinical gaze. His curiosity got the better of him and Jake grabbed his order before making his way over to the corner table. “That seat taken?” He asked with his usual sly grin on his face.

The woman glanced up at him, eyes flicking over him quickly before quirking a brow. “And what if it was?” she replied coolly, a narrow gaze pinning him to the spot. She took a sip of the drink in front of her, eyes never leaving his face.

“Well I’d like to think that I’d be better company than your imaginary friend here,” Jake said, trying to regain his footing. The woman was intimidating; sharp eyes that seemed to never miss a thing and a face that he recognized as one he made when the weariness hit on occasion.

“Is that painful for you, Flyboy? The thinking?”

Jake was taken aback by her snark. Normally he’d respond, fire an insult of two back, but he kept his mouth shut for once, watching for even just a flicker of emotion on the woman’s face. But there wasn’t any. She just looked bored. So Jake did something that he would almost never do, he walked away, set his drinks down on a table near the door and waved Javy down when his friend walked in.

A few drinks later and the bar had begun to fill with people. Other Daggers had popped up, joining Jake and Coyote and Jake was relieved to fall back into his cocky pilot facade he used in public. It was only when he went back up to the bar some hours later to grab another round for the group that he saw her again. “Grab another round, Penny?”

“Give me just a minute, Hangman.” Penny gave him a nod and a smile before adding ice to a cup for someone else and handing it off.

“Hangman huh?” A voice near him spoke up. A quick turn and there stood the woman from earlier. This time however, she was standing up, and he admired the tone and definition of her arm under the tight black shirt she wore. “Must be military then.”

“What gave it away?” He asked, glancing over at his friends before looking back at her.

A sharp grin. “Maybe the fact that you hang out with guys named ‘Coyote’ and ‘Payback’. That, and you just have the look about you,” she finished, taking a swig of her drink.

“You got it right, sweetheart,” Jake flirted, leaning his forearms on the bar and turning to look at her. “One of the best in the room.”

Bear knew that there was a gleam in her eye. God, she loved shooting cocky men down and watching them run back to their friends, tails tucked between their legs. But something about this Hangman made her curious and she didn’t yet know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. “Is that so? So what makes a fly-boy like you better than most people in the room?” she asked, giving him a teasing look.

A grin crossed Jake’s face and he was so sure that he was in. “Attended Top Gun twice, two confirmed air-to-air kills, plus my good looks and endless amounts of good ole-fashioned Southern charm, sweetheart.”

“Wow. Two whole kills all by yourself? That’s pretty impressive,” Bear nodded, schooling her face so as to not burst out laughing. “Little ole me only has about 60 confirmed kills, but I’m sure it’s much more difficult in a plane.”

Jake, who had been grabbing the beer bottles from Penny, froze. “I’m sorry, 60?”

“Yup, all by myself too.” The mocking slipped free and the smirk on her face was wide and dangerous.

“Who are you?” He asked, concern flooding over his face. Jake knew that the look on his face was one of pure shock, and holy shit was he both terrified and turned on at the thought of this woman being far more dangerous than he was.

Bear grinned, finishing her drink and pulling her wallet out to pay. “Take a guess,” she replied.

“Well I was going to say one hell of a pilot, but I would have heard of you if you were a Navy pilot.”

“Maybe I’m Air Force,” she teased as she watched the conflicting emotions cross Hangman’s face.

“Nuh uh. No way.” Jake shook his head immediately in disgust. “There’s no way you’re Chair Force, not a chance.”

“Like you Navy boys don’t also sit in chairs,” came the retort. “But you are right, I’m not, as you put it, Chair Force.”

“So who are you?” He asked, ignoring the barb thrown his way and pausing to look at her. “You aren’t a pilot, that’s for damn sure, so who and what are you?”

“Bagman! What the hell is taking so long?” A shout came from over by the pool tables.

Rolling his eyes, Jake turned and yelled back “Jus’ wait a damn minute!” Looking back at the woman beside him, Jake nodded for her to tell him.

“Seals,” she replied. “Navy Seal Team Three.”

His green eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t know that there were women in the Seals.”

“Not many. Less than 3% to be exact.” There was pride in her voice and Bear knew that. She had worked incredibly hard to be taken seriously during training and even now as the Commander of Seal Team Three, working in the Middle East and Southwest Asia. Her skills were necessary for the survival of her team and herself. Plus putting damn near three years into the US Navy Sniper School made it very clear just how dangerous she was and could be.

“Okay…umm…wow. I jus’…wow.” Jake was in awe, right here in front of him was a woman who was both badass and hot as hell, and the best part? She didn’t back down and made him work for every step. “That’s seriously badass. Why haven’t I heard about you or any of the others?”

“Cause we’re usually kept secret. If enemy states know that there are women on the teams, then we have targets on our backs. But I can tell you, because no one will believe you,” Bear smirked before continuing, “And yeah, I know it’s pretty badass. I worked hard for it. Just like you did for your two kills.” And with a wink, she walked off, disappearing into the crowd near the bar, leaving Jake speechless.

He made his way back to the pool tables, beers in hand and a shocked look on his face. Once he set the bottles down, Jake looked up and began to glance around for any sign of the Seal he had been speaking to. “Who you lookin’ for?” Coyote asked, stepping up next to him.

“A Navy Seal.”

Coyote did a double take. Swallowing his drink, he asked “Did you just say a Navy Seal? Where the hell did you find one of those?”

“Up at the bar not even five minutes ago.”

“The fuck you doin’ chattin’ up a Navy Seal?” Coyote was looking at him like he was crazy. “Don’t they like have three dozen ways to murder you with a rusty spoon?”

“Probably. But she was hot. And seemed to be interested, so who knows if I’ll be a rusty spoon victim,” Jake replied. Not so deep down he was hoping that he’d get the chance to see her again, but stumbled over the sudden realization that he didn’t know her name. Well, that would be a problem for the next time. Turning back to the group, Jake found them watching him with curious looks. “What?”

“Next time that Seal comes back,” Phoenix told him, “Make sure she says hi. I want to know whose ass to protect when you wind up dead in a back alley.”

“Et tu, Nix?” Jake gaped at her, mimicking a pearl-clutching older woman before his face fell back into its usual cocky grin. “You’ll meet her, and you’ll regret saying that.”

Phoenix laughed. “I’ve got the power of being a woman on my side. Bet she doesn’t often get the chance to chat about her experience as a woman in the Navy with someone who understands,” she replied with a shrug. “Now are we playing or what?”

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’. Keep your shirt on,” Jake drawled, setting his drink down and grabbing the pool cue from her outstretched hand. “Ready?”

“Fuck yeah.” A sharp grin from Phoenix had him smirking and if he spent the night trying to beat her, that was no one’s business but his own.

===

Training the next day was brutal. Maverick was clearly playing catch up from missing a day of training and he was making everyone hurt. “Come on Hangman, you’ll have to do better than that!” Phoenix had teased over the headset. “Gotta improve your skills or the hot Seal lady won’t be impressed!”

Jake rolled his eyes, knowing that everyone on the ground listening would hear him if he replied. So he stayed quiet, pulling the throttle up allowing him to go up and over Phoenix and Bob to try and lock on, but failed when Phoenix rolled out of the way. She led them in a chase across the sky, neither plane being ‘hit’, but neither pilot lost.

“What the hell was that?” Bob asked when they landed. “Where did you guys find a Navy Seal?”

Phoenix chuckled, “Bagman found her at the bar last night. He’s smitten.” Having landed back on the airstrip and taxiing it back towards its storing bay with the other Dagger aircraft, she unclipped herself from the harness and jumped down only to be met by Hangman standing right behind her. “Jesus fuck!” She yelled, right as Bob shouted “What the shit man?”

“Nothin’. Jus’ creepin’. Wanted to freak you out a bit,” he said with a shrug and a mischievous grin crossing his face.

“Asshole.”

“That’s me Nix, that’s me.” And Jake wandered off in the direction of the classroom to hear what Mav had to say.

Bob hopped down and watched him walk off. “You think he’s aware that a Navy Seal has standards?”

Phoenix snorted. “Unlikely. But maybe that’s why he’s trying to sneak around here so he can impress her. I won’t tell him that sneaking up on a Seal is a death sentence.” She pulled her helmet off, tucking it under her arm. “C’mon Bobert, let's get ripped into by Mav.”

“If you’re not telling, I’m not telling,” Bob replied with his own grin. “And do we have to? I’d much rather stay here where it’s somewhat safe with my ego intact, thank you.”

“Right? I would too if Mav wouldn’t send out a search party to find us,” she quipped. “Come on, better late than never.”

“I think the Seal would disagree with you.” But he followed Natasha anyway, trying not to drag his heels to avoid what he was sure would be the telling off of his life.

===

Unsurprisingly, Bear was also on base. After all, this was the only Navy base on Coronado Island, so it made sense that all Navy personnel would be stationed together. What she wasn’t expecting was to run into a pair of Navy pilots as she walked back to her car. “Watch it,” she grumbled, shouldering her way past the man and woman.

“There are Seals on this base?”

“Might want to get your eyes checked there, cause I’m not in-fucking-visible,” she retorted.

“Hold up, sorry. Are you the Seal that Bagman spent half of last night talking about?” The man asked in a quiet voice.

Softening her approach just a smidge, Bear turned and nodded. “I am. Something you wanted to ask?”

“No, not at all. Just curious as to who got our precious Bagman all shook up,” the woman replied, before extending a hand to shake. “I’m Phoenix, this is Bob.”

“Good to meet you. I’m Bear.”

“Bear?” The woman known now as Phoenix asked, confusion crossing her face. “How’d you get that?”

Bear grinned. “Show me yours, I’ll show you mine?” She offered, eyes flicking to the tall quiet man who stood awkwardly off to the side. “I don’t bite, Bob. Not unless you want me to,” she added with a wink.

Bob flushed, and shook his head. “Pretty sure I’d get punched.”

Bear gave him a look. “We’ll revisit that later, but continuing on. You were saying Phoenix?”

With a reluctant sigh, Phoenix explained how she’d had to make an emergency landing when her engines caught fire, resulting in a fiery tail across the sky. “Bird on fire, Phoenix. Same difference.”

The other woman chuckled to herself. “That’s a good one. Bear is because I’m cranky as fuck when I get up in the morning,” she told them.

Bob grinned at her explanation. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, but that is great.”

“I should be heading off. Lots of meetings tomorrow and all, but it was good to meet you both. Maybe I’ll see you around.” With a wave, Bear headed back to her car. “Oh, and one last thing, if it ever gets out to Hangman you met me, don’t tell him my name. He has to work for that one,” she said loudly, turning to walk backwards.

“Sounds like a plan,” Phoenix called back, giving her a quick wave. Quietly to Bob, she whispered “Bagman is in for an uphill climb if he wants to even have a chance with her.”

“I know,” Bob whispered back. “It’s going to be great.”

===

A/N: So many thanks to @startrekfangirl2233, @dakotakazansky, and @sarahsmi13s for being the most incredible beta readers ever! I love you all so much!

And to all my beautiful readers: my inbox is open so come and scream at me in reblogs, comments, or DMs, I promise I will get to you all!

Taglist:

@startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @dakotakazansky @horseshoegirl @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @roosterforme @bobby-r2d2-floyd @bradleybeachbabe @fandomxpreferences @fighterpilothoe @dempy @gizmodear @chaoticassidy @eli2447 @javden @snubug @indigomaegrimm @twsssmlmaa @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @djs8891 @rhirhikingston @sisterslytherinog @waywardhunter95 @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @melss24 @heli991113 @thegoddessc @sgt-barnesveins Sorry if I missed anyone!

#a gun amonst daggers #jake hangman seresin x reader #Fern finally writes something! #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick x you #hangman fanfiction #hangman x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #controlled chaos squad #callsign bruiser

[valmare]

So I accidentally answered your ask with the rough, ROUGH draft of this, @bradleybeachbabe and had to delete it, so here's the updated one! So sorry about this, honey!

Come Back to Me

"Darlin’, would you just simmer down and talk to me?"

The question comes too little too late, a whirlwind of thought replacing any hope of reason that the thought of stepping outside for fresh air had originally promised. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not again, not so soon.

Instead of reasoning out the absolutely awful feeling swirling through your gut at the mention of yet another deployment,  your head is spinning with a thousand different thoughts, a hundred emotions—at least.  It’s hard to see straight in the fading light of the Texas evening, long shadows from the barn not comforting, but not unwelcoming. 

There’s a taste of rain in the air, even if it’s rare for July as you double over at the waist, trying to heave air into the inferno that’s become your lungs. 

“C’mon, baby, don’t do this—” 

Jake Seresin’s words behind you, somehow, manage to knock the wind from your chest while poking a hot iron of rage through the center of your gut. You’re angry, livid even, for a heartbeat before he slows off his jog to you, hand extended, looking like he’s trying not to be as sorry as he is. Or maybe it’s reversed, you’re not sure. 

“Don’t! You stop right there, Seresin,” you backstep a few inches, finger pointed firmly at him as you slip into the long shadow of the barn, “I’m angry at you, remember? I’m not ready to kiss and make up,” your jaw stitches firmly in place, “Yet.” 

He slows up, brow lifted as if this is progress. “Yet?” 

“Yet.” You pout, arms crossed in front of you. 

Bleeding silence seems to seep to the dust beneath your boots, and for a second you think maybe you’ve hit the proverbial artery of the situation and actually rendered the notorious Hangman, a man known for his silver tongue and quick wit, speechless. About to congratulate yourself for managing to say so upset with him and not melt into his hands like putty, he shoots you that smile—the one that levels your knees, leaves you breathless, and sends you into a reeling spiral. 

“Come on, Peach—you can’t stay mad at me forever. Not when I’m leavin’.” 

You guffaw in his face, expression an exaggerated shock that is purposely intended to knife between his ribs. “Oh, is that so? Really, Jake, you do have it all figured out, don’tchya? Well, let me tell you what you can do with all that cock and bullshit—” 

In three steps he’s rushing you, grabbing your wrist, and pulling you flush up against his chest in ways that send a lightning bolt down your spine. Mildly concerned you’re on fire but wholly aware that ice is tracking through your veins, you glance at his large hand gripping your wrist tightly, then where your chests are brushing before furrowing your brow solidly at him. 

“Easy, darlin',” his smug expression pulling the corner of his mouth up in a smirk, his sparkling eyes are full of a life you wish you could forgot but know you won’t when he’s gone. "Take it easy for Jake, would ya?"

Your mind spins back to the barn of the Seresin family homestead, where the foaling barn is teeming with new life and the warm, sharp scent of fresh hay. You’d been happy to check in on the newest foal, a stunning overo paint, when Jake had meandered his way into the barn to find you giving happy scratches to the baby’s nose. 

At first you’d hesitated taking Jake up on his offer to fly down to Austin and stay with his family for a few days, apprehensive what they would think of you, an Okies girl. If it promised anything short of the drama your initial meeting with Hangman had, it was sure to either go up in flames or become one for the books. 

You hadn’t been sure if the 50/50 split was worth the risk, knowing Jake was a family guy. Any rift between girlfriend and family would only mean bad things for you, the aforementioned squeeze. Addressing your concern about his Austin-rooted family receiving your Oklahoma Okies blood one night over drinks and darts, Jake had laughed off your concern as nothing but overthinking before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“They’re gonna love you, baby. An’ if they don’t, I’ll figure out a way to make ‘em love ya. The rivalry is football, darlin’—you could come from a cardboard box and I doubt Mama will care.” 

His kiss and soft eyes scouring yours had set your flaming nerves to somewhat of an ease, but the day you’d boarded a plane for Austin, your nerves had been flayed raw. The rivalry between colleges may have only been in football, sure—but if Jake’s family was anything like yours, football was next in line to God, family, and country. Next to the Navy, of course—perhaps Jake’s only saving grace when it would come to bring him home to OKC. 

When Jake had angled his truck into the driveway to park and unload your luggage, the hole in your middle had felt nearly visible. Fluttering with butterflies and clammy with nervous sweat, his mother had barreled out of the front door to greet you, arms opened wide and what seemed to be the exact smile from her son plastered on her face. She’d rocked you in her arms, greeting you with a big old Texas “Howdy, darlin’!” while laughing and giggling like you were her long lost kin. 

His bustling family had welcomed you into the house with food and an abundance of Texas hospitality. It became blindingly obvious that Jake had inherited his mother’s charm, and his father’s ego—for two hours you had listed to Mr. Seresin boast on Jake’s brother kicking for the Longhorns, the family’s home team. Being an Okie’s fan you had to keep your jaw welded closed with a plastered smile, but you couldn’t deny the pride nearly popping the man’s buttons. 

And Jake. Good god, his family never stopped talking about him and the Navy and all his accomplishments. If you hadn’t been dating him and hellbent on knowing everything about Hangman, it was enough to drive anyone nuts. 

If they weren’t asking about the Navy, they were speculating about all his adventures and missions. Hyperbole, since Jake hadn’t deployed to anything remotely dangerous since you’d started dating, but you’d nearly melted at how much they adored him. You doubted there was a prouder family this side of the border. 

It manifested not only in the smiles and jests and stories, but in the food. Mama, as you’d been instructed to call her, had brought out all the fixin’s for her baby home from the Navy—right down to peach pie, his favorite, and buttermilk biscuits. Tonight’s dinner promised his father’s fair-awarded-for-six-consecutive years chili with cornbread.

Any more talk of mouth-watering food and you were sure you’d have to shop for a new wardrobe before you flew home. 

Overwhelmed with the family’s fawning and dead on your feet with jet-lag, you’d made your way to the barn for some alone time. Quiet and familiar, being from Oklahoma with a daddy who worked cows for a living, nothing could quite compare to the nuzzle of a newborn filly or the bright eyes of a curious colt. Standing in the most magnificent barn you’d ever seen, the Seresin homestead felt like home, even if home was a thousand miles from here. 

Jake hadn’t told you that his father was in the business, or that his sister trained cutting horses. You’d told him that when he’d come up behind you, thick arms snug around your waist.

Resting his chin in your curls as you stared into one of the stalls, he’d simply shrugged and chuckled, joking how he wanted you all for himself—and that if he’d told you about the ranch, you’d be in for “all the wrong reasons.”  

Joking, the comment had made you both chuckle as you’d watched the mare nudge her foal with her soft nose, prodding him to walk around the freshly bedded stall.

The best kind of silence unfolded between the two of you, before Jake’s nose nuzzled behind your ear, a thick kiss pressing against your soft skin. 

“I gotta talk to you about somethin’,” he’d breathed against your pulse point, his other hand slowly skimming down your curves to land at your waist, “and you aren’t gonna like it, Peach.” 

Then he’d told you about the call from Pete. That he needed to get back to San Diego, that papers had come in for him last minute. You’d whirled around so fast in his arms that you’d knocked Jake off his orbit, sending him stumbling a few steps back as you braced against the stall, eyes wide and fearful at realization of what it meant. 

He’d be gone for seven weeks. Overseas, running flight simulations. Nothing terribly dangerous but he’d still be gone—and he wanted you to stay here, with his family. Pouting, you argued the point that your life was with him in San Diego, not in Texas. That you couldn’t just uproot your life for a month and a half to run to Austin and hang out at the Seresin ranch like this was some Hallmark movie. 

This was his third deployment since you’d started dating. Never mind that it meant good things for his career, that he was in with the right people and drawing the right attention—you were selfish, wanted him home. Slowly you were building a life together and Jake Seresin wasn’t in it nearly as much as you wanted him to be. 

Sure, he was one of the best. Cream of the crop, really. But he was yours. Telling him to his face had put a startled look of pleased and surprised on his face, one that had him smirking and trying to fight off a chuckle. 

He’d attempted to blow off your reaction. Tied to distract you with that seductive look of his, but that had only pissed you off. “I can’t believe you’re laughing about this!” had been what you’d boomed in his face before stalking out of the barn, hot tears brimming in your lashes. 

It wasn’t his fault. The reasonable side of you knew and understood that this was his life, his job, something he’d committed to before you came into his life. It didn’t make it any easier. You were proud of Jake for his career, for pursuing something he loved and mastering the shit out of it—but playing second fiddle to his sixty million dollar aircraft and Uncle Sam? 

It was exhausting. Demeaning. And, it was taking Jake from you. 

Eyes tracking yours, it’s more painful than you ever thought it could be. 

“It’s okay, sweet girl. I’m coming back,” he’s chortling in disbelief, shaking his head slowly while his hands come to hold your face gently, “It’s only seven weeks, Peach,” that sweet and ridiculous nickname rolls off his silver Austin tongue like you always dreamed it would. It should make you smile, but all it does is send a flare of painful heat into your chest. 

“Seven more weeks, Jake,” your eyes drop to his chest, tears sliding down your face freely, now, “I don’t know that I can let you go again,” his hands firm up around your face and he lowers his forehead to yours, his nose brushes the tip of yours lightly, affectionately. 

“You can,” his breath is hot, laced with cinnamon from what you can only guess is one of those flavored toothpicks, “I need you to. Gotta have someone to come back to, my girl.” 

Your sniffle is aggressive before you drop your head to his chest, clinging to the Longhorns t-shirt that has become a staple in any of Jake Seresin’s weekly outfits. Corded, thick arms wrapping around you, he holds you against his chest, chin in your hair, letting you sniffle and pout at the Navy, at the world, against him. 

Your anger at him begins to fade, slowly. Rationale hits, and you blink back the crocodile tears that seem more ridiculous than they had minutes ago. Lifting your head, Jake angles to consider your face, which is now certainly the most unattractive blotchy red you can imagine. The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smile as his big thumbs begin to brush away the bubbled tears beneath your lashes. 

Eyes tracking to his shirt, the Longhorns logo is dark with wet tears, and your paw at it with an embarrassed chuckle. Jake takes your wrist in your hand, chuckling, before taking your chin between his fingers lightly to tip your face up. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, closing your eyes as inability to stare into his face consumes you, “I’m selfish and don’t want you to leave.” A frosty little pout sets into the back of your words, and your toes curl in your sneakers, as if it’ll help hold onto the sentiment and give it purpose. 

He snorts. “You absolutely are selfish,” he’s laughing now, and you playfully sock his huge bicep, which hardly moves him at all. Protesting, he brushes your hand down and grabs the front of your jean shorts, fingers slipping through belt loops to shuffle you close against him. “But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t sexy as hell seeing you all selfish over me, sweet girl.” 

You smirk at him as he kisses the corner of your mouth. “When do you have to be back in California?” 

“Tonight,” he hasn’t stopped lightly kissing your jaw, his fingers skipping softly under the hem of your shirt. “I’ve gotta catch a plane here in a couple hours.” The thought sends a pang of sadness to your gut as he adds, “Mama wants you to stay here, like we planned. I told her I didn’t know if you’d come home with me or what.” 

Jake’s softly suckling at the juncture between your clavicle and neck, his tongue lathing thick, hot circles into your flesh. Biting the inside of your cheek, you can’t think of anything worse than being in San Diego alone, again, for seven weeks. But you also can’t imagine being that far from home either. Staying means getting to know Jake’s family in intimately embarrassing detail, but going means you’re home, in your own bed, waiting for him. 

“I’ll stay for a couple of days,” you decide, humming softly as his kisses grow in ferocity and you chuckle, “I’m not quite ready to give up your mother’s cobbler just yet. Haveta prepare for withdrawals on that one,” 

You feel his smile spread across your skin as he draws back, eyes scanning yours fully. “I love you,” his thick accent drops to what should be an illegal low, “and I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” your jaw sets a little, wanting him to be sorry but also understanding it isn’t fair, “just be quick, Jake.” It’s your turn to take his face in your hands, and you guide him down a little to brush your lips against his. “Come home to me quickly, flyboy.” 

He nods. “Yes’m,” before his arms pull you in for another tight hug, chest crushing against yours, “drive me to the airport so you can kiss me goodbye?” It’s a question, but the way he asks it, matched with the expression on his face, says it’s expected more than it is requested. 

Smiling softly, your eyes drop to his mouth. “Only if you ask nicely,” you draw up on your toes to kiss the corner of his mouth ever so lightly, “kiss me, Seresin. There’s a lot of days you won’t be able to the next seven weeks.” 

He hums his approval before kisses you hotly, fully, his mouth nearly devouring yours as his tongue skips across your bottom lip, nearly to the back of your throat. Jake is a Frencher, and he wastes no time thoroughly tasting the velvet warmth of your mouth, leaving you breathless for a moment when he breaks from you to draw in a thick, chest-swelling breath of air. 

His fingers are tugging through your hair pleasantly as he tips your head back to pepper kisses at the hollow of your throat. Nearly melting, Texas sunlight kissing your face with its pleasurable light, you feel the rumble in his chest as he brushes aside your bra and tank straps, pressing a searing kiss to the soft flesh of your shoulder. 

“Is that all you want, baby girl? Is for me to kiss ya?” 

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[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Photo Finish

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: I don't really have words for this. @desert-fern and I were chatting about Hangman thots. And this spilled out of my brain.

Warnings: This is just porn. Porn with Plot. Consume at your own risk.

Word Count: 6484

A/N: This is dedicated to @desert-fern, @dakotakazansky and @horseshoegirl! Read and enjoy the thots my darlings!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

It is an unforgiving job, working as a photographer. You'd been all over the world taking pictures for exposes, portraits of world leaders, and scenery. You could name a print material with a portrait on the cover and say you'd taken a picture of that kind. 

It's your first time in New York after six months of working on assignment after assignment for your agency when you're called into your boss’s office and ordered to get a studio ready. You're expecting a shot with supermodels or perfumes. Hell, you've even taken photos of cans of dog food. You're not expecting to hear that the client is the U.S. Navy. Not at all.

The U.S. Navy's recruitment numbers have fallen to an all-time low. They're looking for a propaganda vehicle or five to kickstart recruitment. They've ordered a squadron of pilots to fly to New York and have professional portraits taken. It had been decided it was too risky to have civilian photographers on base, so your company had rented a colossal hangar from the airport for one day. The squadron and their jets would land tonight, and the shoot would happen tomorrow. The information has you reeling and more than a little flustered. The U.S. Navy? As a client? That’s huge. This assignment could make or break your whole career. How do you even start? This shoot is on an awfully quick turnaround for something so big.

Your mind is spinning, thinking of how you could make these spreads work. To begin your prep work, you go to your office, collecting your assistant, stylists, makeup artist, and lighting coordinators. Once everyone is clustered around your office, you fire up your computer and display pictures of each aviator. The Navy has selected six aviators for this spread; they’re all gorgeous. And per the sanitized dossiers you hand out to your team to read, each has risked their lives to serve their country. Of the five men on the dossiers, one keeps catching your attention. His name is Jake, Jake Seresin, and his eyes pierce into you even through the low-quality picture you’ve been given.

“Alright. So how do we do this? The Navy asked for shots of each aviator and their plane in flight suits and uniforms. We’ll have all four jets in the hangar with us tomorrow. Additionally, I want to explore who they are as people. So I think we’ll also do shots of them in formal wear. As a last step, we’ll tie into their sex appeal and do shots of the boys in their flight jackets and dog tags with no shirts. For Lieutenant Trace, I thought we could explore the duality she naturally poses as a highly decorated female Naval Aviator. How does that sound? Any ideas for how we can accomplish that? Start pulling pieces on racks in the bullpen. I want to do a final review of all of the options at 4 o’clock.”

Your stylists, Adam and Lea, are already huddled up and discussing pieces to pull for the formal wear shoot. You can see an unholy gleam in Lea’s eyes as she finds pieces for Lieutenant Trace to wear for the sex appeal shot on her tablet. You grin at their enthusiasm before turning to your lighting techs.

“Seb, Kris. I want you both to head out to the hangar today. I don’t know what the lighting is going to look like. Feel free to start setting up the lighting for the shoot tomorrow. But don’t lock anything down. We’re going to have to share our space with the planes.”

You turn to your assistant, Amy. 

“Ames, go with them. Get an idea of the space we have to deal with. Measurements would be useful. Start visualizing areas where we could lay out a backdrop to do a set of pics without the planes in the background. Scope out everything — the facilities, where we could set up changing booths, a refreshments table, etc. We’ll also probably need to coordinate deliveries from the usual food platters and drinks places. Get an assortment of things that would apply to any dietary restrictions you can think of.”

With that, you turn to the last member of your team, your makeup artist. 

“Hey, Katie. We will want to keep the makeup for this shoot subtle and touch up any blemishes and under-eye circles. That should be it for the boys, but we’ll want to do something eye-catching for the formal wear portion for Lieutenant Trace. So pack accordingly. Go ahead if you want, and head to the hangar with Ames so you can coordinate placement for the makeup station.”

You call your team to attention by ringing the small gong on your desk.

“We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us today. Call me for anything you need. This shoot is important for the studio, and we will have many eyes on us. Here are the credentials for the hangar. Measurements for the aviators are included in the dossier packets. For the formal wear portion of the shoot, pick coordinating colors except for Lieutenant Trace. Good luck!”

The rest of your morning is spent coordinating with the Navy Liasion. During your lunch break, you head to the hangar and help your team as they work there. You pick up sandwiches and drinks for everyone and drop some off for Adam and Lea. You reach the hangar at 1:30 and use your credentials to let yourself in. Unsurprisingly, the hangar is a hive of activity. Amy’s marking down placement points near the bathrooms with a measuring tape, and Katie’s getting a vanity plugged in and organizing her equipment.

Meanwhile, Seb and Kris are testing the lighting. A large swath of the Hangar floor is as yet empty. A clear path has been left from the hangar doors to the open area. The open area is where four F/A-18A Super Hornets are going to sit. You call your team to grab their lunches and catch up with Amy on her progress. It’s your first time delegating so much of the admin work to Amy since she’s the newest on the team, and you’re ecstatic with her progress.

She’s gotten everything organized, including the food and beverage deliveries. When a pair of workmen back in a truck containing the backdrop and the changing rooms, you supervise as they build them and place them where you want them. They’ve just started assembling the backdrop when your phone rings. You step into the afternoon sunshine to take the call. It’s the Navy Liasion. He’s calling to inform you that the squadron will be landing shortly. Sure enough, you can just hear the engines as you hang up and bolt indoors. Amy’s just sending the workmen on their way as you help your team clear the open areas of the hangar and stand near the open hangar door. 

You can feel the thrum of the engines as Four F/A-18As fly in formation and finally land in all their glory. They’re beautiful machines. You can smell the stink of the jet fuel and feel the heat from the engines as they roll into the hangar. The next moments are full of frantic activity as the flight crews help ensure the jets are safely landed. Once all the furor has died down, you finally reach where the aviators have descended from their jets. They’re examining your team's work with eagle eyes that dart to your person as you step closer, your heels echoing as you make your way to the jets. 

They’re even more gorgeous than their pictures indicated, even sweaty with helmet hair as they are. As one, they line up in front of you and salute, introducing themselves with their rank, full name, and callsign. You can hear Amy and Katie’s giggles from behind you as you introduce yourself and your team. The entire time you lay out the plan for the following day, you can feel a set of eyes boring into the side of your face. All the aviators are staring right at you, but Lieutenant Seresin makes you feel like squirming. His green eyes stay on you as you show them the different areas in the hangar and explain the order of the day. Thankfully, they leave the hangar shortly after you tell them their call time for the next morning. 

A couple of hours later, everything is ready to go, thanks to Amy, Seb, Kris, and Katie. The corner near the bathroom has two changing rooms set up. Nearby are spaces for the racks of clothing and the makeup station. It will be perfect for the photoshoot you have in mind. The concrete floors are a little chilly, so you text Lea and ask her to add some of the rugs from storage to the truck. You send her a snap of the current layout so she and Adam know what they’re walking into the following morning. You know she and Adam will pick something that complements the gunmetal gray of the planes and the clothing they’re selecting. Before long, you and your team are packed into the back of two Ubers and heading back to the studio for the final part of your day, evaluating the clothing Adam and Lea have picked.

You’re satisfied as you head home that night. Your team has done an amazing job, and the only thing you have to do is pack your cameras and lenses. You carefully wipe and pack each lens and each camera, working as quickly as possible since you have to be at the hangar with an early 6 AM call time. Amy’s picking up the coffee and breakfast deliveries at 7, and the Squadron will show up at 8 AM sharp.

When your alarm goes off at half past four the next morning, you feel barely rested. Your hair is a bird’s nest atop your head, and your eye bags could put a raccoon to shame.  But you’ve got a busy day ahead of you, so you gulp a scalding cup of coffee and walk zombie-like into your shower. Forty-five minutes later, you’re dressed in a smart blouse and pencil skirt with heels on your feet and bleary but ready to face the day. You’ve thrown your hair into a French braid snaking down your back and left your makeup and jewelry simple to avoid causing unforeseen sparkles and shadows when Kris and Seb turn the lights on.

Your team has just reached the hangar when you step in. All the lights are on in the early morning haze, and you’re immediately swept up in the preparations. It’s like you’re needed everywhere. You only get fifteen minutes to lay out your camera equipment and hook up the cameras to your laptop before you’re pulled into last-minute adjustment after last-minute adjustment. It feels like barely any time has passed when the aviators swagger through the open hangar door. They’re dressed in khaki uniforms, each holding a hanger with a leather flight jacket.

Adam and Lea direct them to leave their garment bags on an open rack, and you’re off to the races. You start with individual shots of each aviator with their plane and then against the backdrop. You’ve cued up a playlist of Top-40 hits, and you can’t help humming along as you snap away. As expected, it takes a bit for the aviators to warm up to being photographed. Two, Lieutenants Bradshaw and Seresin, take to posing for the camera like a fish out of water. Lieutenant Fitch follows shortly after them. Then all you needed to get Fanboy to cut loose was get him talking about his favorite tv show. You don’t mind the onslaught of Star Trek facts and figures because Lieutenant Mickey Garcia is adorable once you get him smiling and dancing to the songs playing. 

That leaves you with Lieutenants Trace and Floyd. Lieutenant Floyd goes next, and the first thing he does when he sees you holding the camera is blush. The bashful look on his face makes a soft squeal slip out of Amy’s mouth, and you side-eye your assistant with your fiercest glare to get her to chill out. Thankfully, Lea drags her away to help with some of the clothing. There’s no need to make the sweetheart even more uncomfortable. Much like Lieutenant Garcia, you try to get him talking. And it works, at least until Lieutenant Seresin opens his mouth and says,

“C’mon, Baby On Board. A pretty girl’s taking your picture, and you can’t even smile? This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, at least for you. You should enjoy it while it lasts.”

You can feel your blood pressure rising at how rude he is and are about to open your mouth to tell him to get out of your field of vision when Lieutenant Floyd does it himself.

“Why, Bagman? Are you afraid that if I start posing for real, all the girls will dump you as fast as possible for me instead?”

You have to stifle your giggles as Lieutenant Seresin blinks wide-eyed at Lieutenant Floyd before walking away. 

“That’s a great idea, Bob!” Lieutenant Trace is never one to leave an opportunity to cheer on her WSO.

That’s what breaks the ice between you and Lieutenant Floyd. You feel his solo plane shots have turned out better than the others. The final aviator in uniform to photograph is Lieutenant Trace. But no matter what you do, you can’t get her to loosen up. 

“Alright, everyone. Let’s take fifteen. Adam and Lea, can you get the Lieutenants in their formal wear while I finish up with Lieutenant Trace?” 

That clears the gentlemen away and leaves you and Lieutenant Trace by the planes. That’s when you finally see a fraction of the tension she holds in her shoulders drain away. She’s still standing stiffly but no longer in full parade rest. You turn the music up, put on ABBA, and pray that the music finally gets her to unwind. It takes a bit, and Lieutenant Bradshaw, now wearing a navy blue tuxedo, wiggling his hips to the beat but unwind she does. He gives you a wink before shimmying away. You can see the rest of your team laughing as the aviators pull out their silliest dance moves. 

After finishing up Lieutenant Trace’s final uniform pictures, you leave her in Lea and Katie’s capable hands and start taking the solo shots of the men. They’re all dressed in navy blue tuxedos with white shirts and shiny black dress shoes. There isn’t a tie in sight, and the jackets are perfectly tailored to their figures. You can’t help the impressed looks you give them and mentally note to compliment Lea and Adam later. Everything is going well until you start to see slack-jawed looks where the lieutenants had been smoldering into the camera. You turn and grin satisfactorily as Lieutenant Trace steps forward. Lea had selected a gorgeous crimson and burgundy gown, and Katie had chosen to leave her hair in loose curls. You’re not surprised at the boys’ awe. She looks breathtaking and like her callsign in all its fiery glory. The contrasting color combinations as she joins the boys look fantastic in the pictures. 

The final set of pictures happens after a lunch break. The gentlemen are only too eager to slip off their shirts, though you can hear Bob pleading with Lea to spare him. You wish him luck, as you know from experience that Lea’s not one to give in easily. The only other aviator who looks discomfited is Lieutenant Trace. You pull her aside.

"Lt. Trace. How would you feel about doing a shot wearing just one of the men's jackets, some heels, and jewelry? You don’t have to wear one that one of the guys has worn today. Lea and Adam brought plenty of spares."

"Please, call me Natasha. And no. I'm not doing that."

"Natasha, I have a feeling I know why, but would you tell me?" Her shoulders surround her ears as you try to reason with her.

"I'm not going to wear that just to act as the sole piece of eye candy in this group. I got here by working just as hard, if not harder, than all of them. I won't negate all my hard work with a pin-up pose on Navy propaganda."

"Thank you for telling me that. I'm not going to pressure you into doing this. But, I would like to bring one item to your consideration. You think taking a picture like this will negate your hard work. Doesn't that negate your inherent sense of femininity? You're a fighter pilot. Yes. One of the best of the best. But you're also a woman. And to me, that's one of your biggest strengths. Girls walking into Navy recruitment offices deserve to know they can be kick-ass officers and beautiful too.”

You take a breath, cataloging the emotions flitting across her face.

“I'm not asking you to do this shot because you're beautiful. As we both know, you are. I'm asking you to do this shot to show the world that you can be one of the best and still be feminine. Be strong and delicate. Sweet and savage. I want you to show the world that serving your country doesn't mean you have to only act like men. Women can serve and do everything that a man can without compromising anything. Be it their looks, their career, or their femininity."

Your words have resonated with her. You can see the figurative light bulb go off in her head as she resolutely nods, gathers up the skirts of her gown, and walks right towards Lea like a woman possessed. You grin and proceed with taking shots of the others. But this time, it’s Lieutenant Seresin that you’re having problems with. He’s stiff like his charm has melted away. You switch to the others and finish their shots easily. Even Natasha stuns in just the oversized blazer. You take a break and review the pictures on your laptop. They’re all perfect. You’ll need a day or so to clean up any small defects, but other than that, they’re exactly what you were looking for. The Navy will be pleased with the results, you hope.

You just need this one set of pictures from Lieutenant Jake Seresin, callsign Hangman, and you can finally go home and take off your heels and bra. Your irritation grows as you attempt to take the pictures you need five times. Your groan of exhaustion and irritation is far longer and louder than it should be. That’s when you start dismissing your team and the Daggers.

“Head on out, all of you. We have to clean up the hangar by the day after tomorrow when the Daggers leave. I will finish up these photos with Lieutenant Seresin, and we should be following you shortly.”

The Daggers all scramble to change, and it's less than half an hour later when you say farewell as the Daggers and your team file out the Hangar door and close it behind them. That’s when you’re left alone with the one man who’s been driving you crazy all day. You try, futilely, to get him to pose how you want, but no matter what you say and how you move him, the pictures don't turn out like you want them to. 

Partway through the latter half of the photo shoot, you'd switched to having all of the Daggers standing against the backdrop. You're regretting that decision now. 

You're done, and the blonde idiot is just standing there and smirking at you. In the studio light, you can see every ridge of his abs and the downy hair dotting his torso. You kick your heels off and let your hair out of its braid. After so long in the tight braid, it feels great to let your scalp relax.

You stalk up to Lieutenant Seresin and grab hold of his arm.

"Right. Let's make this easy on both of us. I will position you how I want you, and you won't move. Okay?"

"Darlin', just tell me to jump, and I'll ask you how high."

And now he's trying to flirt with you. Great. You roll your eyes and position his head and arms as you want him. This close, you can smell his cologne, the cedar and plum scent wafting from his skin. It's an expensive scent that is ever so inconsistent with his personality. Thankfully he doesn't fight you as you position him. 

You could cry. You're so relieved. You are finally getting the needed pictures, and Lieutenant Seresin is cooperating. His eyes still track you as you stalk barefoot back and forth from the laptop to the lights, all with your camera in tow as you make small adjustments. But you don't feel their weight as self-consciously anymore. 

In the final pose, you press on his stomach to get him to straighten his back, and your entire world seems to freeze. His abs are taut, the light dusting of hair soft against your fingers as you glance up at his face. His lips are bitten red as his eyes peer into you. It's electric being this close to him. Something is yearning in his eyes when you step away and take the final pictures. 

Your face is hot as you walk back to the table with your laptop and examine the pictures. You're exhausted, but you've finally done it. Of all the pictures, Lieutenant Seresin's looks the best. His photos exhibit strength, passion, and raw sexuality, exposing a stripe of his taut torso and dog tags. 

"Damn, darlin'. I knew you were a good photographer when I looked up your work before we flew to New York for this, but I had no idea how good you were. These pictures. They're something else."

You startle at his voice, emanating from near your ear, and jolt out of your seat. You nearly fall, but he catches you, steadying you with an arm wrapped around your waist. You gulp as you’re pressed against his chest. He's so close that you can count the flecks of gold swimming in his green eyes. You can't keep your gaze from trailing over his face, from his eyes down to his lips, and back up again. 

"Sweetheart, tell me if I'm reading you wrong, but it looks like you want to kiss me. And I know I want to kiss you. I have since I saw you for the first time yesterday."

You can't keep yourself from nodding at his words. But he's watching you like a hawk and catches your movements. So it's hardly a surprise when he trails his other hand up your side and pinches your chin before slanting his mouth over yours. 

He kisses as he flies, you think. Precise and pointed, each brush of his tongue against your calculated to make your cunt clench and throb with need. You're wet, embarrassingly so. He doesn't pull away until your lips are swollen from the rough kiss. 

Your chest heaves as he traces his finger across your lips. He's got a smug smirk on his face. You pull away from him, carefully selecting your video camera from all your camera equipment, and return to his plane. You turn on the lights, dimming them until there is just enough light to throw the area in the jet's shadow in relief in your camera, hit record, and beckon him to come to you.

"Lieutenant, it's been a bit since I've had some fun. What would you say if I suggest we make a movie?"

His grin is salacious as he lets the leather jacket fall to the ground and tugs you back into his arms.

"Baby, it'd be my pleasure."

Your answering laugh transforms into a moan as he kisses roughly down your throat, paying special attention to your pulse point. His talented hands trail up and down your waist, nimble hands rucking your blouse up from your skirt until he can finally touch your bare skin. Your moans as he traces patterns across your ribs are muffled in his kiss.

"Jake."

Your voice is breathy and high as you try to get his mouth back on yours. But when you look at his face, something is commanding in his gaze.

"Take your shirt off, baby. Let me see what you're wearing."

You tug your shirt off, thankful there aren't any buttons or ties to impede your progress. Jake’s groan at the sight of the lace covering your breasts sends goose bumps over your skin.

His voice is reverent as he walks around you.

"God, baby. You killed me this morning. Wearing that pretty little skirt and those high heels. I wanted to bend you over and fuck you until you were leaking my cum."

He stops before you, pressing his thumb between your parted lips. He dips it in until it's wet with your pooling saliva and drags it down your throat. His finger drags over the soft flesh of your breasts, leaving a cool, damp trail as he pays special attention to the peaks of your nipples. 

He continues walking, stopping at your back and dragging you in until your back is flush against his chest. He positions you with both hands until you're centered with the camera. He keeps up a filthy litany of praise as he carefully uses his thumbs to drag your bra cups down, sending your tits spilling free. His hands immediately find their way to fondle and caress them, calloused fingers kneading and squeezing until your hips are canting unconsciously, searching for additional stimulation. 

His smile is filthy when he finally pulls you away, intertwining your fingers with his and leading you to his plane.

"Put your hands on my plane, baby. And whatever you do, don't take them off."

You can't resist your soft moan as you do exactly what he says after unfastening your bra. You can't see his face, but you can feel his lips in the hollow behind your ear as he grinds his stiff cock against your ass. 

"Stay there, baby. Gonna take these trousers off so you don't get in trouble if we make a mess."

Your nipples are pebbled in the cool air as you wait for Jake to return to you. You can hear the clink of the belt buckle and the rustle of fabric as he drags the garment off before padding back to you. His hands trail teasingly over your sensitive skin as he brackets your waist. His thumbs rub soothingly at your waist as he peppers kisses across your bare shoulders. Jake then carefully drags the zip at the back of your skirt down and eases it off your hips.

It pools to the ground at your feet, and you shudder at the feeling of his hand on your ass as he collects it and sets it on a chair in your line of sight. He's gorgeous. You can see every line of his muscles and the bulge of his erect cock in his boxers. The only thing you're wearing now is your thong. He slides the flimsy lace off, and that's when you feel his breath across your hole.

"Oh, baby. You're so wet. Wet for your Lieutenant, huh?"

He blows a stream of air over you, and you can feel your hole clench at the sensations. 

"What do you want me to do to you, baby? How do you want to cum? On my tongue? On my fingers? On my cock? You gotta tell me, sweetheart."

Your voice is breathy as you babble, "All of them, Jake! I want your tongue, your fingers, and your cock. It's been so long since I came. Please!"

He kisses your shoulder before kneeling and burying his tongue between your thighs. Each brush has you practically sobbing with pleasure. It's been so long since you came that it's only a few minutes before his tongue brings you to the brink of your orgasm. You're already chanting his name, your moans echoing through the hangar.

"Cum," he growls, his mouth still sealed to your cunt, and you're only too happy to comply, your hands scrabbling for something to squeeze on as you ride out the waves of your orgasm on his tongue.

He pulls away after a few minutes and turns you around. His mouth is on you instantly, nipping at your breasts before he kisses you hard. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh as you sink to your knees and free him from the constricting fabric.

It's only fair that you return the favor. So you start with kitten licks flicking across the head of his cock. Each tender pass of your tongue has him moaning. It's not long before his hands find their way into your hair, holding the loose strands in a ponytail at the back of your head. You use the extra leverage to begin deep-throating him in earnest. You use as much suction and saliva as possible, moaning wantonly as he fucks your mouth. His pants and grunts send heat pooling into your cunt as he approaches his orgasm. But before you can convince him to come on your tongue, he jerks himself off over your tits, spurting his release over your skin in hot thick ribbons.

There is a feral look in his eyes at the sight of you like that on your knees, and Jake lopes over to your cameras, carefully grabbing one. He drapes his dog tags around your neck and carefully snaps pictures of the pearl necklace he'd given you. He lays the camera onto the chair before coming back to you.

"Do you still want me to fuck you?"

"Yes." Your consent is less words and more a cock-drunk mewl, but Jake interprets it correctly.

"Can you get on all fours for me?"

You're only too eager to comply, positioning yourself under his eager hands as he takes his spot against your ass.

"I don't have any condoms, baby. How do you want to do this?"

"I'm on the pill, Jake. Please, fuck me. Fuck me raw."

He groans before pressing himself inside you. The slow drag of his big cock as it presses into you has your pulse racing. Jake keeps the pace purposefully slow, using his hands at your hips to hold you still as he deliberately fucks into you. It's so good that each press has you screaming, and you've long since reached the cliff of your orgasm. But what Jake's giving you just isn't enough. That's when you start wiggling your hips to meet his thrusts.

The first heavy smack of his palm against your ass has you freezing completely, caught in the pain-pleasure-pain sensation his hand is wringing out of you. The second has you moaning, your pussy fluttering around his length. His groan is near musical as he continues to smack your ass. Each smack brings you closer to your orgasm, and you're practically begging for it now. You wail when he begins to fuck you again in earnest. His balls smack against the hot skin of your ass as you finally let yourself cum. 

Your orgasm is so strong and intense that you black out. When you come to, you're cradled against Jake's chest, his hand tracing lazily over your back. You're both still under his jet. You prop yourself up on his chest with shaking arms and groan at the sensation of cum dripping out of you. It’s several long moments before you rise carefully on wobbly legs. But the sight you see when standing has your cunt clenching in need again. Jake’s torso is now covered in droplets of the mixture of both of your cum. You grab your camera and take a picture of that too.

Jake grins as he collects the bundle of your clothes and follows behind you to the bathroom. You can’t help the gasp leaving your lips as you see yourself in the mirror. He’s marked up your decolletage, and now is when you can feel the painful sting in your ass. 

“God, baby. Let me take a picture of your ass? It looks beautiful. You can see my whole hand on it.”

You groan as he presses a kiss against the sore cheek before positioning you and taking the pic. All you can see is the globe of your ass, the handprint, and the cascade of your hair down your back.

“Are you sure you didn’t pick the wrong calling, Jake?  You could’ve been a fantastic photographer if you’d chosen to.”

“Oh, I’m sure, darlin’. I love flying too much to regret my decision. And flying brought me to you.”

You grin before beginning to clean yourself up. Jake can’t resist kissing you, and you can’t resist kissing him back, either. Before long, you’re all clean and dressed in your underwear, blouse, and skirt again. Jake even has your shoes and chivalrously kneels to slide them onto your feet. He’s back in his trousers, this time sans the leather jacket. You can’t resist trailing your fingers across his skin and wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him. But you have to break away from him. You only add to his current look by slinging his dog tags around his neck.

Back in the hangar, you’re packing up your cameras after ensuring your home movie is saved when the door to the hangar opens. It’s a security guard, and you’re glad he didn’t pop in earlier.

“Hello, miss. I just wanted to check in and make sure everything is alright.”

“Yes, everything is fine, officer. I just finished a photo shoot with my last client, and we’ll leave shortly.”

"Alright, miss. We have to restrict access to the hangar at 11 pm. It's about 9:30 now, so finish up and head on your way."

You can hear Jake opening the curtain to the changing room behind you and can see the Officer's position stiffen as he catches sight of the medals on his breast.

"Sir, apologies, I wasn't aware that the client she mentioned was military."

He's falling over himself, and you can see the smug smirk on Jake's face as he grins and walks the officer out. You can't help grinning as you finish packing your lenses and begin unplugging your laptop after saving all the footage you’d captured today. You know Jake is back when you feel an arm wrap around your waist. You lean easily back into his expensive-smelling embrace and can't resist sagging against him for a few moments.

"It's been a long day, huh, darlin'?" He presses a kiss against your jaw. "Let's get you packed up and home."

You smile at the new, softer side of him and kiss his jaw.

"I'm all packed up. Walk me to my car?"

"'Course, sugar. Give me your camera bag. D'you need to check on anything else before we head out?"

You pad over to all the electrical outlets, hitting the switches on power strips to ensure nothing is still on. The final place you check via phone flashlight is the area under Jake's jet. You're wearing all of your clothing. You just want to make sure you haven't made a mess with your extracurricular activities.

"I cleaned it all up already, baby. It was when you were knocked out after your orgasm." 

You startle, having grown used to his presence over the past few hours.

"Then let's head out?" 

You relinquish your camera bag to him, keeping your oversized tote on your shoulder as the two of you stride out of the hangar. You lead him to the small parking lot to the side and pop the trunk for your car, thankful you'd decided to drive to the airfield. 

"Let me give you a ride to your hotel. It's the least I can do after keeping you so late."

"Darlin', I should be thanking you. I haven't cum like that in a long time."

You've seen the man completely naked and writhed in pleasure at his touch. You shouldn't be so flustered in his presence. But you can't explain the catch in your breath as he opens the driver's side door for you before loping around to the passenger side and settling in. Everything between you and Jake doesn't feel like the aftermath of a hot frantic sexual encounter. It feels like a date.  You feel light and easy as you cruise back into the city. The silence between the two of you is comfortable. It’s not long before you drop him off in front of his hotel. He presses a kiss against your lips before swaggering in. And you head home to your small New York apartment, feeling the ghost of his presence as you go.

The next morning, you’re glad you chose to work from home because the first pictures you edit are the ones you’d taken of Jake and the ones he’d taken of you as well as your home movie. You can’t resist fingering yourself as your moans and his grunts spill out of your computer speakers. You don't have to do much editing there, but you carefully load the incriminating footage onto two flash drives — one for you and one for him. The photos for the Navy, too, are edited in no time flat. 

It's in the afternoon when you head into the studio. When you get in, you're surprised to see all the Daggers, your boss, your team, and two Admirals waiting for you. Your boss runs the show, introducing and greeting them before the floor is ceded to you. You show the assembled guests the pictures you'd taken for the Navy. 

The pictures are well received, especially the photos of Lieutenant Trace. You wink cheekily at her as Admirals Simpson and Mitchell praise the juxtaposition of those shots. As you show the last picture, you can finally breathe. Your boss is proud, especially as the Admirals turn to her and approve the pictures. But you have one final set of pictures to deliver.

"Lieutenant Seresin, apologies. I found this in my bag this morning. It was lying in the changing room when I looked through it to ensure everyone had taken their things. It must've fallen out of the pocket of your flight jacket."

His smirk is salacious as he accepts the flash drive from your hand, apologizing for leaving it there. You hand him a note, too, and leave the room. You would pay to see the look on his face when he sees what you’ve written on it.

Jake -  Thanks for last night. Call me the next time you're in New York. I'd love to do it again. It certainly was a photo finish. XXX - XXX - XXXX

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@desert-fern 🎥 @dakotakazansky 🎥 @bobby-r2d2-floyd 🎥 @roosters-girl 🎥 @sarahsmi13s 🎥 @bradleybeachbabe 🎥 @lovinglyeternal 🎥 @roosterforme 🎥 @horseshoegirl 🎥

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #photographer reader #pwp #top gun imagine #top gun smut #jake hangman imagine #hangman smut #hangman fanfiction #hangman seresin #controlled chaos squad

[sarahsmi13s]

Friday Night Moonlight

for @roosterforme 's rocktober event!!

pairing: robert 'bob' floyd x reader (slight high school au)

characters: bob floyd, reader (nickname dolly), beckett fletcher, misc high school kids

warnings: language, cheating, high school drama, pining, best friends to sorta lovers, the ending may be rushed, there's a kiss, fighting, toxic boyfriend, please let me know if i missed anything

word count: ~4.5k

a/n: the song that inspired this is the nitty gritty dirt band's fishin' in the dark, and taylor swift's you belong with me music video (she was born in the 80's 😅) em, i want to apologize for getting this up so late! i got bogged down with whumptober, but i'm here!

summary: having been best friends since childhood, bob knows just what you need to feel better after a nasty break up

You and Bob had been neighbors your entire life. Your bedroom window had been right across from his since you were both toddlers and you played in your backyards while your parents drank coffee or watched the football games on Saturdays.

Also, you and Bob both had cousins that participated in Friday night events so you often played in the grass, completely ignoring the game and just enjoying getting to stay up past your bedtime. You even wrote notes in sketchbooks and talked through your windows when you were supposed to be in bed.

And even now, in your senior year of high school, you still did that.

Talking through your windows like you were passing notes in class, which you also did and you never once got caught.

You also got to see parts of each other you never let your parents see, and never spoke about outside of your sketchbooks.

The sad parts, the angry parts, all of it stayed on pieces of paper, hidden between two pieces of cardboard and bound together with flimsy metal spirals.

Until tonight…

Bob glanced up from his homework, looking towards your window to check on you and your AP Calculus homework. 

But all he found was you on your feet, pacing around your room as you heatedly spoke into your phone, unoccupied arm flailing about as you argued with whoever was on the other end. It was no doubt your boyfriend.

Ah yes…  Your boyfriend, the star running back on the football team — Beckett Fletcher.

Bob and Beckett weren’t the fondest of each other. Bob knew you deserved better and Beckett was threatened by your childhood best friend. But they tried their best to not let you catch on, sending one another looks when you weren’t paying attention.

But Bob wanted to tell you to leave, tell you that Beckett is no good for you. Because if Bob ever saw you on your phone and you were either crying or angry… chances were it was Beckett on the other end of the line.

And Bob despised it.

Ever since you were children, Bob never liked to see you sad. He always found a way to cheer you up, whether it was getting you to laugh or just simply distracting you with a cartoon and cuddles on the couch.

He found a way to take your pain away.

Watching you intensely as you talked, Bob was already reaching for his sketchbook.

Once you threw the phone on your bed and you sat at your desk by the window, you looked up and saw that Bob had a note ready. The letter’s scribbled across reading, “what’s wrong?” rather than what they usually read which was “are you okay?”

Man… you really needed to shut your curtain when you’re on the phone with Beckett.

You didn’t like Bob seeing the faults in your relationship, seeing that the foundation was cracked just so he could tell you it was a bad investment because of the unstable ground. 

You were trying so hard to keep this relationship standing, it was the only way to get over your feelings for your best friend, to forget the piece of paper you tucked away in your night stand 6 years ago… but Beckett was making it really hard.

And now you were really debating if staying with him was worth it… and Bob could see it.

Sighing, you picked up your own sketchbook and thick Sharpie, writing your message down before flipping it to show him. 

“drama, i’m just sick of it”

You were lucky that Bob couldn’t see your tears through the glass and you tried your best to keep it hidden from him by not letting your shoulders move as you silently cried. 

Bob frowned, he wasn’t aware of any drama at the school. And being the fly on the wall he tends to be, he knows a lot of the drama. So this was clearly a sign that this was internal in your relationship and exclusive to locker room and cheer practice talk, which he was not privy to as he was in band – a percussionist no less, they had their own things going on.

But even still, you liked to share your drama with him, sitting in the backyard while your parents watched the Sooners play on Saturday night. It was y’all’s thing, but over the past few weeks you never shared cheer drama with him and you both just chatted about what you both knew and then changed the subject completely to something else.

He knew something was wrong but… this wasn’t something you talk about over notes through a window, and you looked… tired.

So he gave you a sympathetic look and apologized, not happy that you just shrugged it off and gave him a less than convincing smile. But you were quick to throw up a ‘goodnight’ note, closing your curtain when you saw his note.

Bob frowned and looked at his drawer, pondering about the note left in there… a note he wrote a while back that he was too scared to show you.

Meanwhile, you turned your lamp off and collapsed into your bed, holding a stuffed bunny to your chest as you sobbed into your pillow.

Tomorrow wasn’t gonna be fun.

The next morning, you woke up looking like death hit you with a fighter jet.

You had fierce under eye bags and your cheeks were blotchy and red. Your upper lip and nose were raw from both your hand rubbing it and the tissues that were never as gentle as they claimed. 

Groaning, you did your best to cover it up, using the proper techniques your mother taught you to use with her estheticians license. You had to look put together for tonight because it was Friday and you had a home football game against one of your biggest rivals.

After your makeup was done and your hair was in dutch braids, a bow securing them together at the base of your neck with your ends curled in tight waves, you put your long sleeve uniform on. It was going to cool off once the sun went down so you needed to be prepared.

And after all that was said and done, you bid your parents a goodbye before walking out to meet Beckett at the curb so he can take you to school.

You had your license, but you didn’t have a car just yet so Bob had offered to take you to school and he did until you started dating Beckett and then you rode with him instead.

Except, you didn’t walk out with a smile on your face or that “cheerleader pep” in your step this time. No, because after your argument with him, you truly weren’t sure if he was even going to be outside this time or not.

And to your disappointment but not disbelief… your boyfriend wasn’t there.

But Bob was… your best friend was there, he was always there.

“Hey, Y/N! Do you need a lift? I’ve got plenty of room.” 

Hearing his voice in person was a bigger relief than you thought it was going to be. It was soothing for you, and you felt a gentle smile form on your face.

Instead of answering right away you walked over to him, prompting him to walk and meet you halfway.

“How are you doing? That conversation looked pretty heated…”

While his tone was gentle, Bob’s words were straight to the point. He knew that whatever was said had a great effect on you and a simple night’s sleep wouldn’t magically fix it all. 

“I’m okay. Just a dumb fight. It’s probably just his nerves, tonight is a big game and he’s got a lot riding on his shoulders,” you said, acceptance in your voice as you didn’t meet your best friend’s eyes.

Bob hated that. Hated the excuse you made for Beckett. Hated that you kept giving him the benefit of the doubt instead of just accepting that he was a shitty boyfriend.

You had been getting into more fights lately and you were either blaming yourself or excusing Beckett’s faults for the fact he was stressed out. 

Even if he was stressed, Bob wouldn’t ever make you feel like this. He would never make you feel like this, period, he loved you too much.

“Are you sure? You seem to be having a lot of fights the past few weeks, does it have to do with the drama you told me about?”

The way you sucked in a breath and played with the bottom of your uniform skirt told him all he needed to know.

“Dolly…”

Your head whipped up at the mention of your childhood nickname. Bob had given it to you because you carried around your bunny doll everywhere when you were little. He rarely used it anymore, so when he did – he was being serious.

“Bobby look I-”

Suddenly a car pulled up, “Hey babe, sorry I’m late.”

You looked over, seeing Beckett, “It’s alright Beck.” You looked at Bob, “I’ll see you later. Bye.” Bob waved, “See you later, Y/N.” 

Beckett sent Bob a glare as you got in the passenger seat before driving off as soon as your door was closed. Bob just rolled his eyes and huffed before getting in his car.

“So, what were you and Bob talking about before I pulled up?” Beckett asked as he drove away. You shrugged and buckled your seat belt, “It was nothing Beck.” He huffed a little, “Sure it was.” 

You scoffed but just shook your head and rested your hand on your fist. 

Beckett had really been bugging you about Bob lately. Asking you questions all the time. Accusing you of being with Bob when you missed a call. 

You knew him and Bob didn’t get along. But he had rarely ever accused you of having feelings towards him until recently. It was completely random because it came out of nowhere. It was causing so many fights and the stress was blowing small things way out of proportion.

It was killing your relationship.

The school day went by fairly quickly. It usually did on Fridays because a pep-rally in the middle of the day usually made the second half go by faster.

Most students went home to get ready for the game, maybe changing an outfit or doing makeup touch ups before coming back to the stadium. But not everyone did. The kids participating in the night’s activities, the football players, cheerleaders, and band members, stayed on campus or close to it so they weren’t late. Usually just going to grab a bite to eat or just hang out until it was time.

Bob usually went with you to go eat and hangout before you got with Beckett. But now he just chilled in the percussion room and practiced until he needed to get ready.

He tried to tune out the color guard next door, not real keen on listening in to their drama. But this time, something piqued his interest. 

“Oh my gosh, you’re kidding! There’s no way!” Mariah yelled, her voice going through the thin walls.

“Apparently so, it’s sad honestly. And Tamara knows that he’s still with Y/N!” Paige exclaimed.

That. That statement was what really got Bob’s attention.

Tamara was on the dance team, going there after not making it on the cheer squad. She had never been mean to you per say but it was pretty clear that she wasn’t your biggest fan.

And now it seems like she went straight for the throat and was keen on making your life hell your final year of high school.

“I know, and Y/N doesn’t even know… I hope she finds out soon or Beckett actually breaks up with her first. She’s clearly taking it hard.”

“They fight all the damn time, of course she’s not okay, Mariah.”

Bob clenched his fist, he was seething. 

This, this was the drama you were talking about and this was the reason Beckett kept picking fights with you.

He shook his head and pulled out his phone, he needed to talk to you.

You sat in the field house, smiling at Beckett as he drummed on your thigh. 

You both managed to make up before the game. Apologies on both sides and spending time together to really talk it out. So, now you both could focus on the game and not worry about your relationship.

“Fletch, c’mon, we gotta go get dressed,” Taylor, Beckett’s best friend said, not looking at you as he pointed to the locker room. Beckett nodded and kissed your cheek where his number was temporarily tattooed on your cheek, “I gotta go baby.” You nodded and kissed his lips, “Good luck, Beck.”

You smiled at Taylor and walked over to the cheerleaders.

“Dude, you have to tell her. Or I’ll tell her,” you overheard Taylor whispering. “Taylor, chill out. Everything’s fine.” 

You feel your heart drop, thoughts filling your mind before you shake them away. 

“Yeah Tamara told me-” Megan started before Jayme cut her off. “Girl, shut up.” “Why? I thought you wanted to talk about her and B-”

“Hey, Y/N, I see that you and Beckett are getting along again,” Kaitlyn said, once again cutting Megan off. 

You nodded, “Yeah, we had a decent conversation, talked a lot of things out. Still not smooth, but less rough than before.” Alicia nodded with a smile, “That’s good.” 

You nodded again and then your phone went off with a text. 

Meet me in the band room parking lot by my car. There’s something I need to tell you.

You sucked in a breath, “Hey, guys, I’ll um, I’ll be right back.” “Okay, practice can’t start without you. Don’t keep us waiting,” JJ said with a teasing smile. You rolled your eyes playfully, “I shouldn’t be too long.” 

You jogged out of the fieldhouse and down to the parking lot where Bob’s car was. 

Bob was leaning on the hood when you got to him.

“Hey, what did you-”

“Beckett’s cheating on you.” 

You stopped dead in your tracks. Your heart was practically pounding in your ears now. 

“W-what?”

He stepped towards you and gently grabbed your arms as he looked down. “Beckett’s cheating on you with Tamara. Mariah and Paige were talking about it in the band room… I’m so sorry Y/N…”

You blinked at him before shaking your head and pushing him off of you, “No… No, you’re wrong. You’re lying.” You backed away from him, still shaking your head. “You’re supposed to be my friend. Why are you lying to me? Beckett wouldn’t–” Bob stepped forward desperately trying to get you to listen to him but you stepped back with your arms outstretched, “Don’t touch me.”

Bob's face fell, “Dolly… please. You have to believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you about this.”

You shook your head, “He wouldn’t do that!” “I’m not lying! I heard them talking about it!” Bob defended, honestly feeling hurt that you thought he would do that to you.

You throw your arms up, the words you overheard in the fieldhouse flooding your mind and the things Beckett had said about Bob before.

“Look, Robert,” you hissed and began to talk with your hands. “I get that you might be jealous of Beckett, but lying to me and saying shit like this won’t help you.”

Your stomach churned nauseously as the venom slipped back down your own throat as Bob’s anger shifted into hurt and betrayal behind his lenses. You had never believed the words you just spat at him. Never once did you think that Bob would lie to you because he was jealous. He had never done it before, so why would he do it now?

But you were conflicted and you were hurt. You felt embarrassed that it seemed everyone knew what was going on in your relationship and you didn’t. You felt used and gullible. 

You knew you were misplacing your hurt and anger. Bob was just trying to help. But you had made up with Beckett and it all felt right again, Bob just happened to be the one that took off your rose tinted glasses. 

But before you could rectify yourself, Bob clicked his tongue and hung his head as he rested his hands on his hips. 

“You wanna be like that? Fine. Be like that, don’t believe me,” he shook his head and dropped his hands to his side. “You know where to find me when it crashes down on top of you.”

All you could do was cross your arms and look down at your white cheer shoes, which only made him scoff before he shook his head again. His shoulder collided with yours as he walked past, knocking you off your footing a little before going back inside the bad room.

You could only sniffle before shaking your head and walking up to the field house.

The game was finally over.

Your team won with, you guessed it, Beckett scoring the winning touchdown. 

You and Bob had just been thrumming with nerves the whole game. Bob was worried about you and he felt bad for just leaving you like he had instead of giving you a minute to process. But he guesses you were both acting off emotions.

You were anxious because you knew that other shoe had to drop. You just wanted to catch it before it landed on your heart. 

And even though they won, you still were anxious as you ran out onto the football field. 

“Beck! Beck! Beckett!” Taylor tried to fast walk by you as you tried to find your boyfriend. “Hey, Taylor,” you caught his arm. “Where’s Beckett?” Taylor looked down at you sympathetically before you watched his eyes flicker back the direction he came, “Y/N… I’m so sorry…” 

You furrowed your brow and he sighed before gently turning you.

And the other shoe dropped…

It dropped and sent 15 cleat studs into your heart.

There in the endzone was none other than Beckett Fletcher and Tamara Wilson making out like they had been dating for a year.

“I tried Y/N… I’m so sorry…” 

You sniffled and looked down at your grass stained cheer shoes, “Yeah because sorry is gonna fix the fact your sister is making out with my boyfriend…” Tears finally slipped down your face. “You know what, you can break up with him for me… I need to leave.”

Pulling your arm from his grip, you turned to go to the track and get your bag.

“Y/N wait–”

“Taylor, I-I can’t right now okay? I just… I need to go be with someone I wholeheartedly trust right now.”

You sniffled before wiping at your nose and running back towards the track.

Bob sighed and walked out of the band room and towards his car. He was ready to go home and just shower off the day and sleep.

Taking a deep breath, he unlocked his car and opened the door.

And he saw the last thing he expected to see.

You.

You were curled up in the front seat of his car, with a mirror in hand scrubbing at your cheek with a McDonald’s napkin as you sobbed. He could see you practically shivering still being in your uniform that provided no warmth at all.

He knew why you were there and he wasn’t gonna say a damn thing. He knew better than to say I told you so or anything because that was shitty of him. 

You needed a friend, you needed him.

So, he got in and shut his door. “I have sweatpants in the backseat,” he said lowly as he started the car. “And a hoodie.” 

You sniffled and hiccuped a little, “Please…” He nodded and turned in his seat to get them from under his backpack. “Here ya go Dolly,” he said softly as he handed the items to you.

You put your mirror down and wiped at your raw, damp cheek to wipe away both tears and any remainder of that tattoo. You had taken your shoes off when you got in, so you just slipped the sweats on before wiggling your skirt down your legs. 

Wadding it up, you threw it in the backseat before practically ripping your bow out and doing the same. 

Bob just watched, patiently waiting on you and letting you collect yourself. 

“Robby I…” You started before a new wave of tears hit and you started sobbing into your hands. 

He frowned, hating the sound of you crying. But he didn’t want to attempt to coax anything out of you just yet, wanting you to just let it out. 

Gently, Bob turned you around so your back faced him. He carefully untied your ponytail before using his dexterous fingers to undo your braids. He gently massaged your head, knowing that it was a good way to calm you down.

Your sobs lessened to smaller whimpers and sniffles as he massaged the areas where you were sensitive, soothing you slowly. 

He smiled a little as you turned to face him.

“Robby, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things to you. You were just trying to help… I didn’t believe what I said about you being jealous. I’m sorry I said it.”

You wrapped your arms around him and he immediately reciprocated. “I’m sorry for how I reacted. I should have been more patient, and maybe I should have been more gentle with it.” You sniffled into his shoulder, “I deserved it… I shouldn’t have–”

“No, no, Dolly, we’re not doing that. We’ve both acknowledged what we shouldn’t have done. We can work past it, because that’s what we do. We work together.” You nodded, “You’re right, you’re right.”

You pulled back and wiped your eyes, giggling a little when he held the hoodie out to you. You took it, trying to ignore the butterflies as your fingers brushed his and the scent of his body spray surrounding you as slipped the hoodie on. “Thank you, Robby.” 

He smiled at you, “Of course. Now let’s go, I’m sure we can hang out in the living room and watch your comfort movies.” You giggled, “You always know how to cheer me up.”

“I’ve known you for 13 years, I’d hope so,” he chuckled as he started driving out of the parking lot. You smiled over at him before resting your head against the window and closing your eyes as he turned the radio up a little more.

Bob nodded his head as he turned down your road, drumming the steering wheel as he listened to the radio. 

“You and me go fishin' in the dark. Lyin' on our backs and countin' the stars. Where the cool grass grows,” he sang quietly to himself. “Down by the river in the full moonlight. We'll be fallin' in love in the middle of the night. Just movin' slow. Stayin' the whole night through. It feels so good to be with you.”

He glanced over at you where you dozed off against the window. 

This was one of your favorite songs and normally you’d be banging his dashboard in a slightly off beat rhythm but he’d let it slide because you were so excited to hear the song.

He hummed along as he got close to your homes. But as he began to slow down he got an idea. 

So, instead of stopping, Bob drove past your houses and headed towards one of your favorite spots to go to clear your head.

Bob pulled up to and parked his car before getting out and going over to your side of the car.

He carefully opens the door and you jerk awake. 

“Ah! What the– Bobby, what’s going on?” You asked groggily as you rubbed your eyes.

“I took a detour. I figured you could use a late night trip to our spot,” he said with a playful smile. You gave him a tired smile, “Oh Bobby… thank you.” “Course, now c’mon.”

You giggled, “I can’t wear my cheer shoes, they’ll get dirty.” He grinned and opened the backdoor. “Well, it just so happens that last time we were here, you left your Converses back here.” 

Your jaw dropped, “I have been looking for these! And you mean to tell me that you’ve been keeping my shoes hostage!” He chuckled and knelt down to put them on your feet. 

Heat rose to your cheeks as he did, the action reminding you of when you were both little and you dressed up as a princess all the time and he happily played your knight. “How could you Bobby Floyd?”

“Oh hush,” he laughed as he tied them before helping you up. “Okay, let’s go.” You giggled as you closed the door and followed him to the river side.

You smiled at him as you both laid down. “C,mere Dolly,” he said as he pulled you into his side.

Smiling wider, you laid your head on his chest and sighed a little bit. “Thank you Robby, this really is what I needed.” He gently scratched your back, “I’m glad I could help.” You looked up at him, “My knight…” You trailed off as his moonlit baby blue eyes made eye contact with yours. 

Almost as if you were both on autopilot, you propped yourself up on your elbow and he cupped your cheek. Before either of you realized what was happening, your lips met.

This kiss was sweet and gentle, but it sucked the breath out of your lungs all the same.

It felt like you were connected forever, but when you pulled away it didn’t feel long enough.

Bob had turned bright pink and immediately began to apologize, “I-I– oh my goodness, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have–”

“Robby, Robby!” You cut him off by covering his mouth. “Hey, it’s okay. I kissed you back… I liked it… a lot.” 

He relaxed under your hand at your words and you think he’s gonna say something but he licks your hand. “Oh gross! I was trying to be sweet and you licked me!” You wiped your hand on the hoodie he was wearing. 

Bob chuckled, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He held your wrist gently as he sobered up, “I liked it too. But… I think we should wait, just because I want to make sure you’re ready…” You nodded, “I know, thank you.” You smiled and pecked his cheek. 

Laying beside him, you laced your fingers with his and rested your other hand on your stomach as you looked at the sky.

He smiled at you and watched your smile widened as you pointed to the clear night sky, counting the stars and pointing out constellations. 

The sight made Bob think back to the note in his desk drawer and a smile split his features. 

The note has waited 6 years, it can wait a little while longer.

hi, hello, thank you all for reading and making it to the end! i hope you enjoyed! and i'm so sorry this is late

top gun taglist <33: @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @sebsxphia @nobody7102 @djs8891 @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @horseshoegirl @hangmansgbaby @mamachasesmayhem @roosterforme @kmc1989 @lovinglyeternal @callsign-mongoose

sorry if i missed anyone on the taglist, my list in an absolute mess right now 😂

#top gun rocktober #bob floyd x reader #fishin in the dark #top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun bob #robert floyd #top gun #controlled chaos squad #bob x reader #bob fic #bob angst #lewis pullman #hurt/comfort #tgm fic #sarahsmi13s

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 23 - Sleep Deprivation

📜So... I really don't know what to say right now. As a writer, we are supposed to be able to form words into sentences that create worlds, characters... emotions... but I cannot bring myself to form the correct words to describe how grateful I am that you guys took a chance on me, writing this piece of fan fiction after an 8-year hiatus, wondering if I still had it, if I was enough. DTDT is the first piece of Fan Fiction I've ever finished, the first story I have ever finished. And along with you all, I've cried, I've laughed, I've wept, I've smiled over Sadie being herself and Liz standing up for what is right. Jake being who he is, and Bradley... well, he speaks for himself 😅 It's one thing to say you write fan fiction, but it's another thing to say that you want to write fan fiction for people who make you feel supported in what you do. This is my THANK YOU to you all. For your kind words and lengthy reblogs, for the comments, likes and support. DTDT only exists because of you guys. And I love every one of you from the bottom of my heart.

So... with a bittersweet mention, here is the final Part of DTDT. Part 23, Sleep Deprivation 😭

❗18+. Strong Language, Pure fluff, Original Female Character, Original Child Character, PDA, Just in case letters, and maybe a few tears...

#6K words

Part 22 | Masterlist

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday, Dear Sadie Bug, Happy Birthday to you!" 

Cheers erupted throughout the Hard Deck as Sadie smiled at her family, all gathered and singing to her around the piano. Uncle Roo was playing, lightly swaying into her side, making her laugh. Alyssa had her hand on Uncle Roo's shoulder, and the rest of the Dagger Squad was scattered about, singing along with the crowd.

She turned eleven today, and while she loved the fact everyone was here, with her celebrating, she found that the best gift she ever could have received was in how she saw you smile, here and now, with Uncle Jake holding you close. You were smiling like you used to, long before you had left to live in this small town she now called home.

Uncle Jake had lived up to his promise. He reminded you that you were worth it. He made you happy. And he tried.

She didn't need anything else.

"Sadie," a hesitant voice called from behind her. She spun on the piano stool, only to find a single yellow tulip attached to a slightly shaky hand in front of her face.

"Happy Birthday." Will smiled crookedly.

You felt Jake tense up against your back, his chest puffing out and his grip on your waist near the point of pain. Bradley even twisted at the sound of Will's voice, staring him down above the rim of his father's Raybans.

While Bradley might be dating his mother and, albeit, starting to bond with Will, he knew a wooing attempt when he saw one. Sadie's heart was another matter entirely.

You and Alyssa giggled softly at Sadie, blushing as she took the flower and at Jake and Bradley for shooting each other, what you could only describe as an "overprotective dad vibe."

Sadie delicately grasped the tulip, her eyes lighting up as she glanced at Will. "Thank you," she managed to say, her voice a mix of appreciation and surprise.

A silent exchange passed between Jake and Bradley. It was as if they had reached an unspoken agreement, a united front. Will had no idea what he was up against, two grown men ready to go to comedic if not slightly absurd, lengths to stir hardship to any boy that dared to approach Sadie.

Will shot his mom a look, who nodded at him encouragingly.

"Do you wanna.. go play on that old arcade machine in the back?"

Sadie went to open her mouth, an eager yes about to escape her lips, until she thought she heard a growl coming from behind her. She turned back, seeing her Uncle Roo first, his jaw tight. Her Uncle Jake wasn't that far off either, his nose flaring with each breath he took, glaring down at her best friend.

She shot you a pleading, panicked look, hoping you could see the desperation on her face.

Jake and Bradley opened their mouths, Jake's voice overtaking Bradley's as he went, "Over my dead..."

But they were cut short. You had taken your arm resting on top of the piano and jabbed Jake in the gut with your elbow. Alyssa had caught on, grabbing a lock of Bradley's hair at the back of his head and tugging once hard.

"Of course, sweetheart," you replied, jutting your head urgently towards the back. You silently mouthed, 'Go. Now!' and Sadie giggled, scrambling off the bench with her flower in hand, running off with Will towards the back.

Alyssa let go of Bradley's hair, prompting him to shout out, "What the Hell!" as you turned to face Jake.

"Relax, both of you. She's eleven!"

Jake pouted, clutching his stomach. "That little shit stole my idea. Only I get to give her a yellow tulip... it's a tradition at this point, and here he comes, swooping in with his tulip-like he's Mr. Original. It's my thing with her."

"Hey, that's my son you're talking about, Seresin!"

You tapped the back of his head with your hand, biting your lip to stiff your giggle. "He's a kid, Jake! It's just a tulip, not a wedding ring."

That was definitely the wrong thing to say.

Jake gulped hard, and you swore you saw a flash of pure terror cross his face. "No, Nope. No. I just got to call her mine. I need to do the things with her before she properly grows up," he sputtered. "A wedding ring? Liz, she's eleven! Don't put that mental image in my head. She's our girl, don't do that!"

Jake wasn't kidding about Sadie being his, not really.

Once the two of you brought Sadie home from Camp, you sat her down and asked if she was okay with Jake moving in. Of course, Sadie was ecstatic, nodding her head and asking 'when' or 'how soon', which prompted the two of you to start to plan things seriously. But it also posed the question Ridley had to consider the second Sadie was born.

Who would look after her if something happened to you?

It was nothing formal. You merely had to change your Will, stipulating that Jake would be the one to get her should anything happen. But Jake treated it as if it actually was, boasting to anyone he could about his niece. The words practically rolled off his tongue with ease and that sheer cocky confidence he was known for. It also didn't surprise you when you found information packets lumped on top of his computer in your office about the process for formally adopting.

It just further proved to you how much Jake wanted to be in your life.

"She has a good head on her shoulders, Jake. And she adores you," you remarked, looping your arms around his neck. Jake's chest rumbled against yours as he huffed. "Besides, I think you set a good example. She clearly expects high standards."

He let out a grumble, and you could only laugh and stand on your toes to plant a kiss on his lips. "You'll always be the reigning champion in this house, Hangman."

"I agree with Jake, Liz. We need to lock her in a tower."

You dropped your head to Jake's chest before you turned to roll your eyes at Bradley. You caught sight of Sadie in the distance, and she met your eyes and gave you a thumbs up, the tulip still in her other hand. The message was clear; she was okay, she was happy. That's all that mattered to you.

"Want another?" you asked the two of them, gathering their empty bottles. The both of them nodded, and you shook your head as Jake stepped into the space you vacated, leaning over the side of the piano to scheme with Bradley. You rolled your eyes at Alyssa, who shooed you on your way.

You smiled at Penny as you approached the bar, holding the empty bottles out to the air, signalling for two more. It's not as if you couldn't have gotten them and added them to a tab yourself, but Penny was adamant you didn't work tonight.

Your phone rang out and vibrated within the pocket of your dress. You pulled it out, wondering who could be calling you. Everyone who possibly could be was here at the Hard Deck, celebrating Sadie's Birthday.

Then, you saw the caller ID.

The bottles slipped from your fingers, shattering upon impact with the floor.

Not that you noticed, but everyone's heads lifted and turned towards the sound of breaking glass. Jake was the first to reach you, mindful of the broken glass at your feet. Then Bradley, Alyssa, Nat, and all of the Daggers swarmed you, knowing your history with phone calls and wondering what else might be thrown at you this time.

You pressed accept on the tiny device, bringing your phone to your ear, eyes wide as you stared at Jake, panting hard.

"Hello?"

Penny had yelled for someone to turn off the jukebox and for everyone to shut up. It was dead quiet, but for the sound of your voice and the tiny speaker of your phone, the entire bar invested in the outcome of your call.

Jake wanted to reach for you, but he didn't know if he should, wanting to leave you to have your space to deal with whoever was on the other end of that call. You turned your back to face him as the other person started speaking, you pressing a knuckle to your lips and biting down hard.

Everyone watched you nod and heard the question, 'What does that mean for us?' cross your lips.

"What..?" Rooster started to say, breaking the silence. Jake shot his arm out, shaking his head.

But the second he saw you grip your forearm and your skin turning red, he stepped forward, uncaring as glass crunched under his boots, to stop you from hurting yourself.

"Yes, thank you. I'll call if I have any more questions."

You squeezed Jake's hand once he gripped yours, and you hung up the phone. Turning to face the group, you looked at them with a shocked look on your face.

"Liz? Darlin?" Jake asked. "What happened?"

You swallowed, hardly believing what you heard yourself. "Uh...Tyler got thirty years to life."

A few collective gasps went around the room.

"They got him on attempted kidnapping, two counts of physical assault, and.. and murder."

Jake reached for your face and cradled your cheek. "Murder?"

You nodded, silent tears falling from the corners of your eyes. "There was a traffic camera... that fucking white car... the spoiler on the back... they caught him chasing her..."

Your words were fractured sentences as Jake combed your hair back from your face, you trying to sort between your thoughts and the information you had been given.

"That was the district attorney. I didn't even know he had a court date," you sniffed. "His whole family is going down for this... and there was a jury too. Apparently, they didn't take kindly to him attacking an active and decorated Naval Aviator."

Jake huffed, a soft smile on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. You could tell he was stuck somewhere between relief and discomfort.

You raised your eyebrow at him. "Are you okay?"

He was. Tyler was truly well and out of your lives, and that was a good thing. But somewhere deep down, Jake felt as if the universe had twisted things to make him the hero in a story where the true victims were you and Sadie. It didn't sit right with him.

"I don't wanna sound like an ass, but my career shouldn't have had any bearing that decision."

You shook your head, touched by his reaction. "It doesn't matter, Jake. Not to me. He's going away."

You pressed your forehead to his, a happy sob escaping your lips at the realization suddenly washing over you. "He won't be able to get near Sadie ever again. And Ridley finally has justice for what happened to her. We're free."

Jake pressed a quick kiss to your lips, smiling as you gasped another deep breath. The second he pulled away, letting his nose rest beside yours, you chanted out happily, "We're free!"

Cheers went up around the Hard Deck, and Penny rang the bell, singling a free round on the house. The rest of the Daggers sighed with relief, lamenting about needing a drink, while Rooster whooped, running back to the piano and sliding along the bench as he ran his fingers across the keys.

Yet Jake and you stayed where you were, staring at each other with echoing smiles.

A well-known piano riff sounded off the walls of the Hard Deck, and Jake and you fought the urge to roll your eyes, using the distraction to slip out onto the hard deck patio and over to a grassy part of the beach. You could hear Rooster's playing at a distance, but it was enough not to be a bother.

You went to step forward, but Jake pulled you back by the grip he had on your hand, spinning you under his arm. You giggled, your head tilted back as you went, only to find Jake's hand resting flat on the curve of your back, urging the two of you to slow dance.

Bright orange rays hit the side of Jake's face. Hues of gold, pinks, and soft yellows, all sculpting his jawline, shining tiny flecks into his eyes, and casting a glow into his hair. They highlighted the small, affectionate small that was tugging at the corner of his lips. Jake's Mona Lisa smile was one thing, but this was one that was only reserved for you.

"Is this going to be our thing?" you asked him. "Watching sunsets?"

Jake smirked. "We could do a sunrise to switch things up?"

You let Jake spin you under his arm again, a smile on your face. He pulled you back to him, hooking both his arms around your waist while yours wrapped themselves around his neck.

"No," you smiled, swaying with him across the grass, thinking of when you went to visit Ridley. "I think sunsets are reserved just for us."

---

Despite having a party at the Hard Deck, Sadie's birthday did happen to fall on a Saturday night. So it was only natural one of her birthday wishes ended up being that she wanted these fun-filled nights to continue.

Who were you to deny her that request?

It was just the team that came back to your place afterwards for cake, your backyard lit up by your string lights and the glowing flames of your bonfire pit, music blasting from your speakers. Sadie had just finished opening her gifts from the squad, and Jake and you had saved yours for last.

Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, flicking the stand back on the case and propping it on the edge of the pit. It let out a shrill tone, and Sadie squinted her eyes at the tiny screen, wondering who Jake had decided to call, now of all times.

Suddenly, a woman who looked just like him appeared on the screen.

"Is this Sadie?!"

Sadie squinted her eyes. "Yes...."

Janet's face beamed with excitement. "It's so nice to meet you finally, my brother can't shut up about you. Happy Birthday, Sweetie."

"That's nice of him," she answered, though you knew what she was doing, challenging Janet to earn her affection.

"Which one are you?" Sadie pressed. Jake bit his tongue, fighting a grin.

Janet didn't hesitate when she replied, "Not the twit and not the one that needs a pitchfork shoved up his as... butt."

Sadie giggled, and Janet shamefully called out, "Sorry, Liz."

You shrugged. "She's heard worse."

You met Nat's eyes on the other side of the fire, noticing how she was watching Sadie contently.

"Uhhh," Janet remarked. "You actually kind of look like my brother."

"Do you have any embarrassing stories about him?" Sadie's high-pitched voice made you turn back toward the camera.

Janet glanced over towards you within the frame. "She really is your niece, isn't she?"

You laughed, and Sadie broke into a full smile, her guard dropping a bit. "I like her," she declared, glancing at you and Jake for your reactions.

"If you two are done squaring off.." Jake said, rolling his eyes. "Janet had a hand in your gift and wanted to watch you open it."

He placed a box in Sadie's lap, holding the edge so it wouldn't fall as she tore into it.

"Go on, open it," Jake encouraged with a little bounce in his voice.

Sadie tore at the wrapping paper, lifted the lid and gasped. "Cowboy boots!" she squealed, pulling them out to admire the intricately stitched patterns and the shine of the leather.

"Thought you might need a pair if you're gonna be an honorary Texan," Jake said, grinning from ear to ear.

Sadie lunged forward, giving him a huge hug. "Thank you, Uncle Jake!"

He laughed, hugging her back. "Thank Janet, too. She picked them out."

Sadie squealed out her thanks as she kicked her slip-ons off, quickly trying them on. Except she shrieked when her foot met something within the sole, and she pulled the boot off only to reach down and grasp a few hard pieces of paper.

With a dramatic flair, she pulled out three plane tickets, holding them up for everyone to see. Her eyes widened, and a squeal escaped her lips as she put two and two together. "Are these... are we going to Texas?!"

You took one from her hand, reading the front. "Jake, you didn't."

He shrugged. "She needs to see where her family is from."

Bradley audibly gagged from his spot on one of the chairs, and you barked out, "Can it, Bradley! Don't ruin the moment!"

"We'll see you soon, Aunt Janet," Sadie said, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet with newfound enthusiasm.

"Counting the days, sweetheart," Janet said, waving goodbye as Jake ended the call.

As Sadie tried on her new boots, you reached down beside the bench to grab what would be Sadie's final gift of the night. You carefully slid it into her lap, placing a hand on her back.

"This one is from me... and your mom."

Sadie peered up at you with wide eyes before tearing into the box, practically tossing the lid off in haste. Her tiny hands tore at the tissue paper, and Jake was laughing at her eagerness as the tuffs flew up into the air.

She gasped when caught sight of the dark blue denim folded neatly into the box.

You found that Jean Jacket amongst Ridley's things in the storage unit, finding the courage to go through it finally and see what you could salvage or donate as you undertook the task of redoing Sadie's room. You knew as soon as you saw it that Ridley had been intending to give it to her as a gift, a twin butterfly and ladybug patches having been already sown into the material on the back.

That's what Sadie was seeing now, the jacket folded in such a way in the box only those two patches would be on display.

She wiggled her cowboy boot-clad feet back and forth in excitement as she grabbed the shoulders of the jacket, lifting it up out of the box to hold it in front of her. Jake grabbed the box and added it to the rest of the discarded wrapping paper.

Except as she held it up to inspect the back, the front was on display to everyone else sitting around the fire pit. Collective gasps and shouts of "What?!" sounded off, and you had to bite back your laugh.

"What the hell are those?!"

Sadie lowered the Jacket, peering over to see her Uncle Bob, ready to rat him out for swearing, when she saw his mouth was open like a fish. Twisting her brow, she flipped it over, a high-pitched gasp escaping her lips as she saw the two patches on the front.

The Dagger patch had been the most damaged one, but it was all too easy to grab the one plastered to one of the walls of the Hard Deck for reference. When Mr Murray asked why you wanted to use the busted one and not the one still intact, you had simply replied with, 'This one is special.'

It sat just next to the left breast pocket, perhaps standing out the most. But you, Sadie, and Jake hadn't been staring at that one. There was a second patch adorning the right breast pocket - a patch with a slight modification.

Sadie ran her finger across the gold-threaded wings before tracing the tiny words wedged in tight on either side below it. The tiny words that stood on top of the reason why this particular patch was now so special to her.

Proud niece of Hangman

To your surprise, it wasn't Bradley, but Nat, who yelled out first, "Hey! What about the rest of us?!"

Her shout set off a chain reaction around the group.

"It's not fair he gets to be on there first!"

"Why didn't you ask us too, Liz!?"

"There's a Dagger patch on there. All of us should be on there!"

But you weren't paying attention to any of them. You were looking at Jake, who had reached out to trace the patch as the jacket rested in Sadie's lap.

She looked up at him, hugging his side. "It's true, you know," she said a matter of factly. "I am proud of you, Uncle Jake. I always will be."

Jake snaked an arm around her back, hugging her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, eyeing you with a smile. You would never stop surprising him—the both of you.

The Daggers were still arguing amongst themselves when Sadie scowled at them.

"Hey, guys!" She shouted, giving everyone pointed looks across your deck. "It's my birthday, shove it! He counts! And If I say he goes first, he goes on first, okay!?"

Everyone else, save Bradley, backed off.

"Guess I'm just chopped liver then."

Sadie narrowed her eyes, pushing herself to stand.

"You listen here, you big fat glorified chicken..."

You couldn't contain your laughter as Sadie marched over to Bradley, her finger pointed out in front of her as she started laying into him. Rooster looked scared, and you shook your head, wondering why he didn't realize Sadie would jump to Jake's defence the second she could.

Jake startled you as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"Meet you in the kitchen?" he spoke into your ear, squeezing his hand once before walking off, collecting the tray of dirty dishes on the table.

You stayed with Sadie for a few more minutes, making sure the rest of your crazy family didn't kill each other over who could have one of their patches on Sadie's jacket next. Though you'd never let on that Mav secretly slipped you one of his as he joined Sadie when she came back to sit with you.

As you sat there, watching the people who had come to mean so much to you, you felt an odd sense of what you could only describe as 'home' wash over you. It wasn't tied to a place but to your extraordinary found family. Because as much as they were there for Sadie, they were there for you too.

It was the peculiar kind of warmth they brought you, whether Nat was trying to get you to come out of your shell, Penny for acting like the defacto mother you didn't quite have most of your life, or Bob willing to be himself around you. It was in the way Mav cared for both you and Sadie as he did for each of his Daggers and how Coyote was always there when you needed him. How Payback and Fanboy made sure everyone was having fun, and how Rooster was the troubled brother you never had, a little broken, a little worse for wear, but genuinely kind-hearted.

Every family a bad egg after all, albeit bad wasn't the word you'd use to describe him at all.

They helped to fill the gaps left by your grief and sorrow, and you vowed to hold each of them a little closer. Because your life had been a pile of good things and also bad. The good didn't always soften the bad things you had to go through, but the bad never spoiled the good or made them unimportant in your life. Your life was messy and unpredictable but beautiful with its imperfections.

And you, somewhere along the way, were living with people who had chosen to stand by you in your darkest moments.

And Jake. Your Jake.

You turned to Sadie. "Think you can manage these guys while I help Uncle Jake?"

She smiled up at you, nodding, before looping her arm through Mav's, resting her head against his shoulder, tenderly glancing between some of her favourite people in the world.

Walking away, you paused at the back door, leaning up against the glass with your arms crossed as you found Jake humming, swaying along to the song currently playing outside as he worked, hands covered in suds as he diligently cleaned the dishes.

You faked a cough, startling Jake as the sponge slipped from his hands back into the dishwater.

"Anything I can help you with, Lieutenant?" you tease, playfulness in your tone and a grin gracing your lips. Jake narrowed his eyes at you, a cocky smirk on his face, then jerked his head to the empty space beside him.

"I wash. You dry?"

You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, feeling him pause to place his hands over yours. You closed your eyes, pressing your cheek to his back and letting out a deep sigh.

A wave of profound gratitude washed over you. This man had chosen to love not just you but Sadie as well. He had stepped into your lives, filling spaces you hadn't even known were empty at a time when you weren't at your best. When you were fighting with yourself tooth and nail not to start a relationship, when you were missing your sister so much, the thought of her not being here was too great to bear. When you were scared to let anyone that close to you without Sadie's approval and yet, Jake somehow found his way.

You loved him. And there would never be a day in your life when you would let him forget it.

The two of you did the dishes, the odd comment or two passing by. The both of you knew a few of them would be sleeping over, you having already made up the pull-out in your office and Jake having gathered the spare pillows and blankets from your hall closet.

The two of you might have bumped your hips, teased one another, and shared a kiss or two. You might have blown bubbles in Jake's face, and he might have tapped you with the dish rag.

But when everything was said and done, and Jake was working to drain the sink, your eyes tracked to the top of the refrigerator, where that white envelope called out to you. It was wedged between your cookbooks, and you saw nothing else as you pushed yourself off the counter with both hands.

Reaching up, you worked the thick piece of paper out from between the books, only to hold it, staring at the front and absentmindedly tracing the writing on the surface.

Without looking up, you spun towards Jake, feeling a complex mix of emotions. Love, apprehension, vulnerability. But underpinning it all was an entwinement of a slight sadness, but more so serenity and acceptance.

"Hey, Jake," you said softly. Jake turned around, the smile on his face fading when he noticed you were holding a white envelope in your hands. A gentle smile was on your face as you looked down, closing your eyes once before lifting your head.

"I have something for you."

Taking the few steps needed to close the distance between you and Jake, you held out the envelope.

"Another letter?" he teased, slinging the dishtowel onto his shoulder and wiping his hands dry before taking it from your hands. He flipped it over, eyes searching the front until he spotted the fancy handwriting.

Jake's eyes shot to yours, utterly shocked. Yet, you didn't do anything except squeeze his wrist once and lean up to kiss his cheek. "I'll be out in the back with the others if you need me."

Jake remained frozen on your kitchen floor, watching as you walked out the back door. Sadie immediately ran to you, and you held out your arms, a cheerful laugh racking your chest as she hugged you tight.

Jake smiled at the sight, his girls laughing with one another as the music changed, and you wrapped your arms around her, waddling back and forth as the two of you started to dance. But then he felt the weight of the envelope you had given him, and he was drawn back down at the handwriting gracing the surface.

To him

Despite not having seen her handwriting, he knew who this letter was from. You had told him you had opened the shoebox about the letters Ridley had left for various points in either your or Sadie's lives.

He'd never expected Ridley to have written one for him... or at least, the idea of him.

Sitting at your kitchen table, he carefully opened the envelope, tilting it upside down to pull at the folded-up pieces of paper nestled inside. But as he pulled, several polaroids fell onto the table and a few to the floor.

Placing the letter off to the side, he reached down to scoop up the ones that had fallen, drawing in a sharp breath as he flipped one over.

The resemblance between Ridley and you was uncanny.

He didn't know what to expect, seeing a photo of her for the first time. Her eyes twinkled the same way yours did when you were happy, and the two of you shared the same dimples when you smiled. She had the same nose as you, the same hair colour, and the same face shape.

But there were also differences.

He smiled when he noticed the line of freckles spreading across her cheeks, the same type he knew scattered across your back. She had a scar running through her eyebrow and another matching just above her forehead.

But above all else, her smile echoed Sadie's, wide and happy.

He picked up another one, seeing you, as a teenager, laying in a hammock with a notebook and a feathered pen. Ridley had written along the white frame, an author in the making.

There was also one of Sadie as a baby, wrapped in a pink blanket, blue eyes wide as she stared up at the camera. And another of you holding her to your chest in a rocking chair, the two of you asleep. There were a few of you as a kid, another of you holding up a key with your tongue sticking out, and another at your graduation, Sadie on your shoulders stealing your cap.

Jake realized almost all the ones of you were strategically taken by your sister without your knowledge. It's so reminiscent of when Sadie sent that first Polaroid, the same circumstances - like mother like daughter.

Jake laid each out in front of him, lining them up to what he assumed was their chronological order, only to stare down at the story Ridley had left him. He felt his throat tighten as he looked at all of them. Even in the face of something as heartwarming as leaving him photographs of the three of you, the lingering weight of Ridley's absence was inescapable, and it hit him square in the chest.

Though he never had met her, the space she had left was undeniable. Seeing her now, he realized maybe he did know her. In Sadie's smile, in your will to take care of others, in the music she had shared with you and in both of your abilities to put somebody in their place rightly. It caused Jake to smile down at the only photo of her, resting on the table.

"It's nice to meet you, Ridley."

So finally, after the last photo, after the last word had been seen, and the last memory had been touched, Jake unfolded those pieces of paper and began to read.

To the person my sister loves,

Well, shit, she finally did it. My little sister finally found her, Mr. Darcy.

Sorry. As you probably have already discovered, the Beck sisters have a little Pride & Prejudice obsession. Totally my fault for naming my sister after a character in a book I fell in love with in school, but I took my chance when I saw it. But if you have the tendency sometimes to be a pompous asshole with an ego problem, then hey, at least she wasn't that far off the mark.

I'm sorry I'm not there to meet you. Whatever circumstances have prevented me from doing so. I'm sorry I can't have you over to a family dinner, ask about your life, and get to know you. For you to win me over, or for us to bat heads.

Just kidding... I'm more bummed about not being able to give you a shovel talk in person. But I know my daughter, and something is telling me Sadie would have already beaten me to it long before I had an actual chance. She has a thing about Lady Bugs, so run if you see her with an empty water bottle and she... Well, if you don't already know now, chances are you will eventually.

One way or another.

So I think this is my only chance to do it, sad as that is. Sad for you - you probably thought you were getting off scot-free. Nope, sir, I'm still going to kick your ass from my grave. So you better heed the wishes of a dead woman.

Now, she wouldn't have given you this letter if she didn't truly love you... if she didn't want to spend the rest of her life with you. She also must have made you promise to put Sadie first, and the fact you're holding this letter means you have. By her giving this to you, it means you are entirely worthy of her love.

(I don't write this as a means to scare you or warn you about what you're getting into. Cause no takebacks, sir, it's a done fucking deal now. I will so totally haunt your ass if otherwise. Sadie gets her wrath from me.)

There is so much more I want to tell you than I can fit into the pages of this letter. There will always be more, more things left unsaid, more things I never told them, or in what I'm telling you - God, the pressure to write something for someone you may never meet is hard…I hope you have a sense of humour cause I really don't stop rambling.

So, I guess I'll stick with three. Three things I want you to know…

One: Music does not solve all your problems.

Liz might try to tell you otherwise, that music can heal, and while I won't entirely disagree, you need to know the reason why. When we were kids, I'd play music to drown out the arguments, the slamming doors, the not-so-quiet sobs. The ability to guess a tune in just a few notes? That came from needing to know which song would best mask the sounds we didn't want to hear. The playlist wasn't just music; it was emotional armour. So when you listen to music with her, know that there's more beneath the surface. Beneath that lighthearted game is a history that's no game at all. When the playlist ends, and the distractions fade away, be the man who's there for her, not one that hides away when things get rough.

Two: A memory is no longer beautiful just because it fades.

People always used to ask me why I chose a Polaroid over a digital camera. With a Polaroid, each shot counts. You have a limited number of exposures, and each film cartridge is precious. There's no delete button, no do-over, just like in life. And when that photo develops in front of you, you have to wait for it to mean something. Once it does, it's permanent. You can hold it, you can touch it, you can pin it on a wall. But polaroids also fade.

Memories fade. But their value isn't in how long they last but in the ones you choose to capture in the first place. My sister and my daughter have been through a lot, so when you're building this life with them, be mindful of the moments you're capturing. Make those moments count. Make them worthy of being looked back on so there is no room for anyone to doubt the three of you didn't live a life that was not full of love.

Three: Grief is constant, unchanging, and complex - it is the most certain thing, next to death, we are guaranteed.

I have a very, very sneaky suspicion you are a pilot in the navy - hell, she works as a bartender in a navy bar; it was bound to happen with one of you lot (You just better not be the one Penny had called her about, rumoured to be sleeping with all the female bartenders... if you are... aha, good luck sir.. you're so in trouble - That's what Liz gets from me) so you know exactly what I mean. It's ingrained into your soul that each time you go up there, you might not come back down.

Liz struggles with grief and the knowledge that life is precious and fleeting. Don't add to it. Be the person who acknowledges it, who understands it, and chooses every day to make the time you have with them count. Life is fleeting; It can be gone in an instant. It's nothing we should ever take for granted, so please, please, from this dead woman pleading to the man my sister loves, please never take your life with her, with Sadie, as such.

They're both yours now, god help you. Liz, my dear sister, who cares too much. Sadie, my ladybug, who is too honest and sassy for a kid.

I've always put the two of them before myself. Liz has probably told you our story, so I won't rehash the nasty details in what's supposed to be a touching letter - I'm brutally honest, so when I say truly believe it was my sole purpose to be on this earth to 1) take care of my sister and 2) to create what happens to be, next to Liz, one of the most precious things in my life, I fucking mean it.

That being said, we need to make a slight amendment to the Sadie promise. Between the two of us, we need to add Liz to it too.

Lizzie needs to be reminded, given a list of all the reasons she's still here breathing, that she is doing right by what I want for the two of them. Because I know my sister, and she overthinks everything. She will be hanging on by a thread to every decision she will ever make with our Bug, wondering if she has done enough or if she is doing enough.

She already is. She already was.

And she doesn't owe me more than that.

You, however, do.

I need you to remind her of that - that she owes me nothing. I need you to take photos. Take as many as fucking possible. Go on hikes and look for the tiniest bugs. Make memories to hold on to and be the person who scares away Sadie's first date or holds her while she cries. To walk her down the aisle if she chooses and help her if she decides to have kids of her own.

Tell Elizabeth you love her. Every single day. Because you know as well as I do, you don't know the last time you'll be able to. Crawl into the bathtub with her when things get too much and hold her. All she needs is to be held, to know someone is there, standing by her. Thats it.

Stay up listening to vinyl with her, dance across a kitchen floor and make her laugh. Communicate with her. Please, for the love of fucking god, communicate with her about your feelings and your thoughts. She is such a good listener, and she cares so much for the people she loves. That's just who she is, so never forget it.

And promise me this one last favour...

There are more letters like this one in the red box I know she's probably only just opened, probably a long time after I'm gone. Mostly for Sadie, but there are some for Liz... maybe a couple more for you. I'm not sure yet, I'm honestly just making this up as I go.

Can you please make sure they open them? Go through the pile of memories I've left in there every so often?

I'm not being egotistical when I say I know I'm going to be missed. Grief does that to people. It's really just love, wanting to be given but with no place to go. I know those two will always love me in life and in death.

But remind them I know. Remind them I love them too - even if I'm not physically there to tell them myself.

This ended up being not as much of a shovel talk as I thought it was going to be, mostly cause I don't have anything to threaten you with truly.

But how about this, instead?

It's probably weird that I want to say thank you, right? Thank you for falling in love with my sister. Thank you for being there for her, for Sadie. For loving them when I cannot.

But I want to anyway. Because they mean everything to me, and it is my only hope they mean everything to you.

So wherever I am, whether it's in the clouds or in a fucking ray of sunshine, or if I'm a freaking bug, I can only hope I get to see the three of you be with each other in every way that matters.

Even if I can't, I know you're there.

And that's more than enough for me.

Love always,

Ridley Beck

~Fin~

🥲

Tag list:

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233

@mayhemmanaged @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink @ohgodnotagainn

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern @lynnestra44 @memoriesat30 @penwieldingdreamer @mxlanciia

@bradleybeachbabe @bobby-r2d2-floyd @lavenderbradshaw @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars

@keyrani @craftytrashprincess @hisredheadedgoddess28 @abzidabzy @memeorydotcom @vicsnook @taestrwbrry

@its-the-pilot @dizzybee03 @cassiemitchell

Wickett 🥲

(Sadie, Liz and Jake will be around for blurbs and one-shots if that is something you all are interested in 🥰 )

----

Forever After All - The next series after DTDT

#horseshoegirlwrites #damnthosedogtags #damn those dog tags #hangman x oc #controlled chaos squad #jake seresin #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun x reader #top gun fanfic #hangman top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic #top gun hangman #top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake x reader #jake hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #dtdt

[bobby-r2d2-floyd]

the nanny part 4 | hangman x reader [saturn]

note: after what feels like ever (it was a month) i'm finally back! between my organic chemistry class, life stuff, generally feeling like ass with the weather transition from winter to spring to summer back to winter and then summer again here in michigan... i've been suffering from some pretty bad headaches and migraines from the change in pressure. but i'm pretty okay right now

warnings: none? not angst, angst.

word count: 2.4k

not beta'd. we die like goose

inspired by: @roosterforme

previous | next

------------

Over the next few weeks turned months, you and Jake had developed a sort-of routine. Some nights you would be sleeping over in his guest bedroom while he was out late with the rest of the squad, and some nights you were out the door after making dinner for an exhausted pilot so you could help Penny at the bar and he could spend quality daddy-daughter time with Avery. 

You had been working for Jake for around four months, Avery was already 8 months old, the holiday season was right around the corner and, unfortunately, that meant that there was no chance for you to be able to make it back home to see your girlfriend or her family. Jake wasn’t given any leave time for the holiday season to go back home, and he was fairly certain he was going to be on a boat in the middle of the Pacific for Christmas. 

Jake rolled out of bed after checking the time, he laid in bed long enough to not be able to get coffee on his way into base and with a groan he wandered into the bathroom for a shower. He was hoping to be in and out before Avery started to wake up, but when he heard your faint voice over the sound of the shower, he knew he could afford a few extra minutes in the steam while you got Avery awake and fed. 

He was expecting you to be standing in his kitchen, but what he wasn’t expecting was the twinge in his chest at the sight of you holding Avery and bouncing her softly as you work on smashing some avocado for her. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as if you could see his heart racing, and he watches as you dance around the kitchen while Avery giggles away. 

She’s the first of the two of you to spot him, you only notice from the shift of her weight as she stretches her little arms out towards Jake with a “Da-!” He laughs and pushes off from the wall and lifts her into the air before bringing her down and peppering her face and neck with kisses, causing her to giggle harder.

“Well, good morning sailor.” you tease as you scoop the avo into the silicone mat on her high chair. He laughs at your teasing and puts the little girl in her seat. 

“Good morning.”

“There’s a coffee for you on the counter from that place that you took me to-”

“Clifford’s?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Saturn you are a godsend,” he practically moans as he takes a sip and you roll your eyes at his antics. “I’m serious. Thank you so much. I didn’t think I would have time to go on my way into base.” 

You watch him take alternating sips between his coffee and feeding Avery. You take in his still shower damp hair and how his white undershirt is tucked into his dress khakis even though the second he gets onto base he’s going to be changing into his flight suit. 

“Yeah I left Penny’s early today, couldn’t sleep so I made the extra drive to the coffee house.” 

“Well, I appreciate it. There’s some cash in my wallet you can take-”

“Oh no,” you wave him off as you turn to the sink to get started on the few dishes you had dirtied. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind treating my favorite boss to coffee here and there.”

“Favorite boss? I’m your only boss.” he says and you throw him a look.

“You’re not my only boss, dad-man. Now go get your bag, you're going to be late.” 

“Yes ma’am.” he gives you a mock salute and you roll your eyes as you take over his spot feeding Avery. He has a foot out the door when he doubles back, “are you going to be out the door as soon as I get home later or can you stay for a bit for a chat?”

“I can stay, is everything okay?”

“Okay cool. I’ll see you later, Sat!” 

A few hours have passed since Jake left this morning and Avery is getting restless, she’s just starting to stand and you can tell she’s itching to start running. It was perfect timing as you also had received a text from your other boss. You pack a small bag for her, some snacks and a few diapers, before grabbing the space themed fanny pack Jake had gotten you for your birthday in October. “Let’s go see if we can surprise daddy while we make a pit stop for the admiral.” 

Jake is confused when he hears your voice followed by Avery’s giggles and babbles echoing throughout the halls of Top Gun. When he finally finds the two of you, Avery lights up, just like she had that morning too. 

“Hey… what are you two doing here?” he asks as he takes Avery from you and you hold out a bag to him.

“Figured I would bring you some lunch. Plus I have a meeting with Beau.”

“Beau? Simpson?” he lets out a small laugh and looks at you as if you grew extra limbs. “How… Why do you have a meeting with Cyclone?” 

“Because, Lieutenant Seresin, I asked her to come here.” Cyclone says as he walks up to the two of you. 

“Sir I-” 

“This must be Avery.” Cyclone says smiling down at the little girl in Jake’s arms before shaking her little hand, “it is very nice to meet you again.” 

Avery smiles and babbles back to him and reaches for the usually stone faced admiral and with a smile he takes her into his arms, not bothered when she starts to poke and pull at all the ribbons on his dress shirt. Jake is shocked, mouth hanging open a little and you just smile knowing that Cyclone is nothing like the admiral that Jake knows.

“Why don’t you and the rest of the Dagger’s take a long lunch.” Cyclone says and from his tone Jake knows it’s not a suggestion and Jake takes Avery’s diaper bag and the bag of food from you before leaving with a “Sir.” 

You followed Cyclone back to his office and took a seat across from him. “How’s Addison doing?” 

“She’s good, excited to start kindergarten and she loves having a baby sister.” he says with a smile and you laugh before pulling out your tablet from its case.. 

“So, I was working on a curriculum for her…” you start and go over the program you drafted for him and his wife to go over with their eldest daughter. 

By the time you and Cyclone walk into the room that the rest of the Dagger’s have taken up residence in, the admiral is reduced to a fit of laughter as he regales you with the story of what his daughter did a few weeks ago. The rest of the squad is wide eyed at their laughing admiral, but Jake is the only one who has already seen the man with his usual grimace. 

Cyclone gives a smile to the rest of the Dagger’s before squeezing your shoulder gently as he leaves back to his office. 

“So, you’re a nanny, a bartender, a teacher, and you can make the admiral laugh? Man, Jake bagged a good one.” an aviator says and you give him a weird look.

“Excuse me?” 

“Harvard, shut the fuck up.” Bradley says and this Harvard character you just met laughs.

“Well, on that note… Jake, Avery and I will see you later?” you say and Jake nods before passing Avery back to you. 

“I might be a little late, but I can pick something up for dinner?” he asks and you nod with a smile.

“Of course, dealer’s choice.” you say with a smile before heading out. You make a quick pit stop at Target for some new clothes for Avery since she’s already starting to outgrow some of the clothes that she had. You pick up a few things for yourself before grabbing Jake some new undershirts since they’ve started to disappear. 

By the time you make it back to Jake’s, you have a few hours before he’s supposed to be home. Avery goes down easy for a nap, groceries are put away, his new shirts and the rest of his laundry is in the washer.

The second you pop open a red bull your phone is ringing, the picture of you and your girlfriend when she surprised you with a trip down the Vermont Byways last fall during peak color season.

“Hey Ry.. Perfect timing.” you say with a smile and she laughs on the other end of the line.

“Yeah? The baby down?” 

“Yeah, she just fell asleep and then Jake isn’t due home for another few hours yet.” you take a sip of your drink.

“Well that’s good news! How’s the other job going?” she asks and you let out a sigh.

“It’s good. I have a few parents I’m writing programs and curriculums for but other than that, I’m spending most of my time with Avery.” 

“You know… you can always come home. Do the exact same thing here with our family and friends.” she presses and you can hear it in her voice that she’s hating the distance.

“Ryanne… you know that I can’t, I outgrew Vermont. I’m happy in San Diego, but I do miss you. A lot.” you say and she sighs.

“Are you at least coming back for Christmas? Mom and dad have been asking about you. They think we’ve broken up.” she tells you and you bite your lip before sighing. 

“I’m sorry. I wish that I could get back but I can’t. Jake thinks that he might be getting deployed right around that time but he isn’t sure. So I’m going to stay here on the chance he does.” you tell her and you can almost hear her roll her eyes. “Why don’t you come here? Spend Christmas under the sun?” 

“Does he think or does he know that gets getting deployed?” she bites out and then sighs, “I’ll see what I can do. I make no promises though with the weather.” she tells you and you nod even though she can’t see you.

“Well, either way I’m sorry I can’t make it home and I do love you a lot and I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too.” she says before hanging up and you sigh, tossing your phone on the table in front of you before kicking your feet up and digging the heels of your palms into your eyes and you will yourself to not start crying. 

Jake ends up getting out earlier than he expected so he stops by your favorite Chinese place on the way home before stopping and grabbing your favorite beer to try and butter you up, so when he walked into the house and heard your gentle sobs coming from the couch, he stops mid-sentence and rushes over. 

“Hey! So I grabbed Chinese from that place you like and I was thinking-hey what’s wrong?” he sets the bags down on the table in front of you and pulls you against him.

“Just,” you sniff and rest your head on his shoulder, “stupid stuff. Ryanne called me today… and I thought that it was going to be an ‘I miss you, how have you been’ conversation but instead it was a ‘when are you coming home? Why are you watching this guy's baby over his parents?’ conversation.” 

“I’m sorry.. I can call my mom-” he starts and you cut him off.

“No Jake. You don’t have to do that. I want to be here with you and Avery. I left Vermont because I felt like there was nothing there for me anymore. Just because I can’t leave, doesn’t mean she can’t either.. And she hasn’t really made an effort to even try and come out here either.” 

“I can talk to Cyclone. See if he can give me a week off or something so you can go back or-or bring Ryanne out here? Spend a week with her here in the sunshine.” he tries again and you look over at him, eyes glassy and red-rimmed and he wants nothing more than to just tug you into his lap and hold you close and kiss every single tear away but he knows that he can’t. 

You sit up and pull away from him, downing the rest of your redbull and slapping a hand down on his leg, “so... my favorite food?” you pump into his shoulder and he laughs.

“Yes, only the best for my favorite nanny.” 

“Favorite? I’m your only nanny!” you laugh as you stand and grab the bags before heading to the kitchen to plate the food. “Do you want to go grab Av? She should be waking up any moment and I’m sure she would rather see your face than mine.” 

Almost on cue, Avery starts stirring over the baby monitor that was placed on the counter. You can hear Jake talking to Avery briefly before he disappears from the vicinity of the monitor in her room, you figure he headed to his room to change. By the time he’s back downstairs, he’s changed into an old Texas Longhorns shirt and sweatpants and Avery is as smiley as ever with her little bit of bed head sticking up on the side.

You can feel your eyes lingering for longer than needed, but seeing Jake with his daughter always made your heart soar. 

Fatherhood suited him. 

You set the plates on the table, even giving a few noodles to Avery on her mat when Jake gets her settled in the highchair. “You said that you wanted to talk about something, before you left this morning?” 

“Yeah uh.. I wanted to ask if you wanted to move in with me?” he says, almost tentatively. “I know that you’re settled at Penny’s but with the impending leave in the next few weeks and the fact that you’re always here early in the morning and usually late at night.. I just figured it would be easier for you? Less commute time and Avery gets pretty upset when you leave at night.” 

“Avery gets upset or you do?” you tease and you swear you see him flush a bit as he shovels sesame chicken into his mouth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full you pig. You’re teaching Avery bad habits.” you pause for a bit, pushing some food around your plate as you watch Avery taste the noodles you had given her and her eyes go wide and you both laugh. 

“I’ll move in with you.”

------------

@mandylove1000 @zbeez-outlet @emma8895eb @sinners-98-world @buxkybarnez @classyunknownlover @caidi-paris @classycolorpeach @eugene-emt-roe @missemrose @fighterpilothoe @crystal-lily-101 @pookie-cleary @max-dalton @elijahmikaelsonbitch @thegoddessc @yourfaveaquarius92 @blueoorchid @archaeologydigit @dempy @missathlete31 @hangmandruigandmav @hisredheadedgoddess28 @pono-pura-vida @ilovewhalesharks444 @genius2050 @harrysgothicbitch @hangmandruigandmav

chaos squad tags:

@dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @desert-fern @disturbedbeautywrites @that-one-random-writer @horseshoegirl @mayhemmanaged @lavenderbradshaw @cassiemitchell @bradleybeachbabe @lovinglyeternal @sarahsmi13s @roosters-girl @twsssmlmaa @footprintsinthesxnd

#glen powell imatine #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #jake seresin #hangman seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #hangman seresin imagine #hangman seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin imagine #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #dagger squad #no beta we die like men #controlled chaos squad #callsign fireball

[dakotakazansky]

Best Stitch Day Ever!

Just a little drabble I wrote up for Stitch Day today(6/26).

Description: Sunshine's favorite movie is Lilo and Stitch, and she's got a little surprise for Jake when he gets home.

Pairings: Jake x F!Reader - No Y/N, goes by Sunshine or Angel(this blurb only)

Warnings: Teeth Rotting Fluff.

Word Count: 567

It’s June 26th, and you woke up excited for the day. You had a short shift today at the station. Only 8 hours spent in the ambulance and then you were on your way home. Jake had left before you woke up, and he’ll be getting home later today which worked well in your favor.

After you had gotten off shift, you quickly got home, showered and changed into some Nike Pro shorts and a sports bra. You got dinner prepped and ready and then left it in the oven to keep warm until Jake got home.

Your phone lit up showing your background photo of you and Jake during your first date. The message that popped up was from Jake saying he’d be home in just a few minutes. You ran up to your shared bedroom and slipped into your Angel Onesie.

You brought down the Stitch onesie and left it sitting next to you on the couch. You quickly queued up your favorite movie, Lilo and Stitch right as Jake walked in the door and kicked off his boots. “Sunshine I’m home!” He called out. You ran across the glossy hardwood floor of your shared home and stopped short of Jake’s body, sliding to a perfect stop right in front of him, and you wrapped your arms around his waist hugging him tightly.

“We’ll aren’t you super cute!” Jake coos to you. “Come on bubs! It’s Stitch day!” You said excitedly trying to peel his flight suit off of him as you made your way to the couch where the Stitch onesie was waiting for Jake. The only other day that rivaled this day's excitement each year was Christmas. “I got you one too bubs!” You said in a very chipper tone handing the onesie to Jake.

Jake cocks his eyebrow up at you, with a questioning look, that you understand immediately. He was silently questioning if he really had to do this or not. “Bubs please?” you jut out your lower lip into your signature pout that makes him almost feel bad, but what flips him inevitably is the puppy dog eyes in combination with the pout.

Jake nods, taking the onesie from you, “Of course Sunshine, or should I say Angel?” He responds, and your face lights up like it’s Christmas. “Have you been studying my favorite movies Bubs?!”

He chuckles as he walks away, “Maybe just a smidge Angel. I know how much it means to you, and just want to do what I can to make you happy.” He quickly showers to wash the smell of Jet fuel and sweat off, swapping one of your favored scents for another, the smell of citrus and cedarwood.

By the time he returns you’re already cozied up on the couch, with both plates of dinner sitting on the coffee table awaiting Jake’s return. Jake comes bounding down the stairs in his Stitch onesie and pounces down onto the couch next to you and in the best Stitch voice he can do, he yells “Blue Punch Buggy!”

You couldn’t contain your laughter for a good few moments. After the giggle fit caused by Jake, you both ate dinner and had a movie Marathon of Lilo and Stitch, Lilo and Stitch 2, and Leroy and Stitch, before you both were tuckered out and made your way up to bed. It was the Best Stitch day ever.

Taglist:

@mayhemmanaged @roosterforme @startrekfangirl2233 @desert-fern @cassiemitchell @sarahsmi13s @lavenderbradshaw @lovinglyeternal @bradleybeachbabe @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @twsssmlmaa @bobby-r2d2-floyd @that-one-random-writer @horseshoegirl @footprintsinthesxnd @djs8891 @kmc1989 @starset21 @emma8895eb @shanimallina87

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #Jake seresin x reader #top gun imagines #top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagines #DakotaKazanskyWrites #DakotaKazanskyStories #controlled chaos squad #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x you #jake hangman imagine #callsign loki #callsign-loki #lilo and stitch #stitch #angel

[bradleybeachbabe]

i can’t send this edit on discord to the controlled chaos squad chat since the file is too big, so i’m posting it on here instead!!🫶🏻 (technically i only added coloring to this video and put a song over it, but i’m still calling it an edit)

also please don’t steal this. it has my watermark on it, and i’ll probably be deleting this later. idk yet🤷🏻‍♀️

it’s under the cut

#rachel talks💭 #my edits #please don’t reblog #controlled chaos squad

[hangmansgbaby]

Last Line Tag Game

Rules: Share the last line you added to your WIP and tag as many people as there are words.

Thanks @roosters-girl for the tag😘

Lil snippet of On the Ice 😉

“Are you sure? I saw that check at the last game of the season dislocate your shoulder. Plus I got a very serious message from your wife this morning saying you would do this and to wrap you anyways.” You laugh, pulling out some tape. Javy groans as he tugs his shirt off.

Tagging: @cherrycola27 @mayhemmanaged @thedroneranger @desert-fern @bobby-r2d2-floyd @roosterforme @startrekfangirl2233 @dakotakazansky and anyone else who wants to join

Idk whose been tagged this at this point

#cm on the ice #no ones ready #controlled chaos squad #callsign songbird

[desert-fern]

A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Part 2 - Goddamn Pilots

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

*Picture is from Pinterest, not mine*

A/N: I was not expecting this to be as popular as it apparently is! Welcome back to AGAD and I hope you enjoy!

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: swearing (this one is consistent throughout) and I think that’s it!

Word Count: 2.0k

Read on Wattpad or AO3

Masterlist >> Part 1 >> Part 3

===

Days after their first meeting, Jake still had the Navy Seal roaming through his mind. What was her name? What did she really think of him? Would she go out with him if he asked? Did anyone else on his team meet her and have any of this information? He was deep in thought, pondering these questions, and yet he hadn’t tried to seek her out. Maybe it was fear keeping him from engaging, or maybe it was because she had revealed herself to be far more dangerous than expected and he was both afraid, not that he’d admit it, and turned on by the way she carried herself.

Which brought him to now. “Jake, come on man. Did you hear a word I just said?” Fanboy grumbled, knocking his elbow and jarring the blond from his thoughts.

“Hate to break it to you, Micks, but no,” he replied, shaking the last of his daydreaming off to tune into the conversation. “Repeat it?”

Fanboy rolled his eyes, slumping further into the rec room couch before answering. “I said, you hear that Nix and Bob met a Seal on base a few days ago? Apparently she stopped and chatted with them for a bit.”

“Says who?” Jake’s head snapped over to Phoenix, who just shook her head at him.

“She swore me to secrecy,” the woman said with a shrug. “Girl code and the like.”

Hangman let out a frustrated groan at her words. “Seriously? Bob, you a part of girl code now too?”

Bob curled in on himself, not liking the sudden attention of the room on him. “I’m staying out of this,” he mumbled.

“Ah ah ah. Nope, you don’t get to hide information from me.”

“Actually he does.” From the doorway of the rec room, a feminine voice spoke up. Its owner leaned against the doorframe, clad in the desert camouflage patterned uniform worn by the Seals. “My ears were burning, and well, I wasn’t liking what I was hearing.” Bear had been standing there for a good five minutes, listening in silently on the conversations held by the pilots. None had noticed her, despite more than half of them facing towards the doorway.

Phoenix and Bob both turned towards the voice, grins widening when they saw it to be Bear. “Hey, I was just about to come find you,” Phoenix said, holding up her phone.

“I know. But I was done first. Perk of being a sniper. It’s usually just one shot and done if all goes well,” Bear replied with a grin, having just glanced around the room at the various emotions on the faces of the pilots sitting before her. “So these are the Daggers then. Good to meet you.”

Coyote, who’s gaze was flicking between the woman in front of him and his best friend, was the first to speak up. “It’s good to meet you too. I’d introduce you to the team, but it sounds like you already know more about us than we’d like.”

“Got it in one, Coyote. Got it in one,” Bear replied with a teasing grin. She stepped into the room, noticing how everyone’s gaze snapped to her approaching form.

The mustached man who she knew to be Rooster was the next to speak. “So you know all about us, but we know nothing about you. How is that fair?”

Bear just smiled. “You’ll know what I allow you to know. My deployments are a tad more elaborate than yours, fly boy, so every detail is precious,” she replied, coming to perch on the arm of the chair Phoenix sat in.

“Do we get a name, or a callsign…?” prompted one of the pilots, which was then echoed by the group all nodding and verbalizing their agreement.

“Call me Bear,” she replied, giving in just a little bit.

“Bear…” Jake repeated to himself, but when he looked around the room, he was faced with the amused looks of his colleagues. “What?”

“Oh nothing,” Bear replied, her own grin teasing. “It’s just funny that you seem so happy with one tiny detail. Almost seems obsessive.”

Jake’s green eyes widened. “I’m not…it’s not like that!” he protested wildly. “It isn’t like that,” he repeated, making eye contact with Bear and watching her eyes twinkle in amusement.

“Oh I know,” she stated. “ It’s just funny to watch you pilots get all flustered. You all lose your composure so quickly, no offense intended. It’s just an observation.” A flurry of indignant squawks were sent up, making her chuckle. “You all just proved my point.” Glancing at Phoenix, Bear asked quietly “Half an hour then we head out?”

Sliding off the arm of the chair, Bear went to leave but Hangman’s voice called out after her. “Why Bear?”

“Why Hangman?” She prompted. “I made the same deal with Phoenix here, show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” She crossed her arms over her chest, intelligent eyes categorizing every micromovement the blond made.

“...I was really good at the game in basic training…” he admitted quietly, the words barely reaching her ears. The room had gone silent as the pilots tried to match up his story with who he was now, their faces contorted in confusion. “I went, it’s your turn now.”

Grinning wickedly, Bear shook her head. “I didn’t say when I’d tell you,” she hummed, shooting him a wink. “Not my fault you jumped the gun.”

The room exploded in shock, indignation, and laughter at her words, and over the noise, Jake yelled out “Jus’ wait, I’ll get it out of you eventually!”

“Is that a promise or a threat, fly boy? Cause don’t forget, us snipers are patient people,” she replied calmly. Deep in the recesses of her mind, Bear was imagining him storming after her and trying to draw the story from her, doing his best to pluck the story from her lips. The heat in his eyes molten as he would look down on her, making her squirm under the gaze. But she quickly shook herself free from the daydream, to watch Hangman get up from the couch and come to stand in front of her, blocking her view of the rest of the room.

“I’ll hold you to that, Teddy,” he said quietly, his voice low and near her ear. And when he pulled back, Jake couldn’t help the smirk that broke free as he caught the brief wide-eyed look she gave him. The one she schooled quickly into the mask she usually wore. He sat back down, and watched her wave and leave the rec room quickly.

A glance at his colleagues had him raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“What did you say to her?” Coyote asked suspiciously. “‘Cause I really don’t feel like wakin’ up to your body hanging from the shower head tomorrow.”

“Nothin’ important. Just that I can be far more patient than she thinks,” he said with a shrug.

Rooster burst out laughing at his words. “Bullshit. I watched you switch lines three times in the mess this morning because you thought the others were shorter. She’s got you beat by a mile.”

“That was a one time thing,” Jake grumbled. “I will beat her.”

“Not likely, Bagman. Not likely at all,” Phoenix spoke as she got up. “Well, I’m out. Bear and I have plans, so I’ll see you losers later.”

“What, are we not cool enough for you now?” Payback teased.

“Nope,” Phoenix replied, flipping them off as she left the room.

===

While the pilots teased Hangman about being impatient as hell, Bear had swiftly escaped to the locker room. She slipped inside and leaned back against the door, burying her face in her hands and letting out a groan. Like Jake, all Bear had been able to think about was the cocky man she’d met at the bar. But unlike him, she could keep her thoughts hidden and she already knew everything about him, much to his chagrin. His look of confusion then frustration when she’d refused to tell him about her made her smile as she replayed it in her mind.

A few deep breaths later, Bear pushed off the door and began to grab her things to shower off the grime from the day’s training. Her mind raced as she stood under the spray, and she shook her head to dislodge all thoughts of the blond pilot she’d been messing with.

She wouldn’t think about Jake. Wouldn’t think about how close he’d stood, how she could feel the heat radiating off his body, the smell of jet fuel, sweat, and whatever cologne he’d put on that morning. A frustrated groan left her lips and she rested her head against the cool tile of the shower, willing her thoughts away.

It must have worked because ten minutes later, she was out and dressed in her civilian clothing of a plain black t-shirt and blue jeans, feet tucked into running shoes, with her uniform folded into her bag. She hummed as she waited for Phoenix to make an appearance, logging in to her naval email and checking for any new information about their deployment.

The door banged open, making her jump, standing up quickly to see Phoenix walk in, her hair halfway down from the regulation bun. “Sorry, didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“It’s all good,” Bear replied, sitting back down. “Just be happy that I didn’t have my weapon with me.”

Phoenix made a concerned face. “Would I really be in that much danger?”

“Depends on how emotionally scarring you find a gun being held to your forehead as you’re flat on your back,” the Seal replied almost too casually for the conversation. “But no, it would just be the threat, likely not any action.”

Gulping, Phoenix nodded. “Awesome, good to know. Don’t mess with Bear.” Running her hands through her hair, the brunette gestured to the showers before she said “I’ll be like ten.”

“Got it. I’m in no rush,” Bear replied, looking back down at her phone. “I do have to check in on something before we leave, I’ll meet you by your car?”

Over the running water, Phoenix called back “Sounds good. See you in a bit.”

Stepping quickly from the locker room, Bear made her way back down the hallway towards her CO’s office. On her way there, she ran headlong into someone as she rounded a corner. “Shit! I’m sorry, I should have been paying more attention.”

“No, it’s my fault,” a familiar baritone sounded from just above her. Glancing up, Bear made direct eye contact with the green eyes of Hangman. She barely managed to hide the stutter of her breath, as she found herself watching her reflection in his eyes. “I could have slowed down.”

Mentally shaking herself, Bear couldn’t stop a grin from crossing her face. “I wasn’t sure you pilots knew how to do that,” she teased.

A flash of humor appeared in his eyes, twinkling as he watched her. “I can go at whatever speed you need, Teddy.”

She bristled at the nickname. “Really? Teddy? How original.”

All she got in response was a smirk, before he straightened up and stepped back half a step. “Well,” she said, “I should really be going.”

“So should I.”

It was a few moments before either of them moved, but Bear quickly slipped past Jake and hurried down the hallway. Knocking once on the door of her CO’s office, a gruff “Enter” answered her, and she stepped into the room.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?”

“Shut the door, and take a seat,” was his response. Rear Admiral Will “Shark” Harris had been running Seal Team 3 for the better part of a decade, collecting commendations until some high up would hopefully promote him up and out of the position. “We have some new information.”

Bear cursed mentally. She grabbed her phone and typed out a quick message to Phoenix. “Just got called into a meeting. Meet me at the bar, I will get there when I can.”

Pulling up a chair, she sat down. “Of course, Sir.”

===

A/N: So much love to the readers of AGAD, and to my editors/cheerleaders @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s and @dakotakazansky, I wouldn’t be publishing this without you. Mwah 😘

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[valmare]

Alrighty, I'm going there. For the previously discussed Cyclone thoughts ;).

If you'd like, could I please get Beau Simpson with "Get over here and let me touch you?"

Congrats on 100+ followers, love! You deserve it! :D

Stix, my love! Oh boy, this was a challenge! I wanted to do something a little diffierent with this prompt. It's a little fluffy, a little sexy, and something I think may be one of my favorite blurbs of this entire challenge. Enjoy, babe, and thanks for following!

Only the Pretty Ones

It’s a little after ten when the cold blast of the Hard Deck’s AC chases sticky humidity off your skin, and for a second all you can feel is relief as you step through the doors into the absolutely charged atmosphere of the Navy bar. 

Bodies are everywhere. Twisting in dances, tied up in one another, others standing around nursing drinks; more lingering at the bar, trying to catch glimpses of the pretty bartender that’s subbing for Penny Benjamin tonight. More move about the pool tables and dart boards, loud and welcoming, and your general consensus in the room is that not only does Penny run a tight ship, but everyone seems to generally be having a decent time. 

Low, glowing light in the place is a decision that’s common for bars like this, and whether or not it’s intended to hide sins really isn’t the concern as you step aside from the door, eyes scanning the pulse of the room as your heart picks up behind your ribs just a tick, matching the energy of the room. 

The back of your mouth needs a drink as your eyes track around the room. You bristle when the thick, rough hand finds the small of your back, which is exposed in the backless sundress you’ve been wearing all afternoon. Mostly from the sunburn that’s fevered your skin, but also because it’s sexy as sin. 

The Kinks kick on over the sound system at the exact moment he gently shuffles you away from the busyness of the bar’s door, hand still at the small of your back. His mouth brushes against the soft skin of your temple, raising goosebumps down your arms. Blinking, you gently let your head angle to the side as his hands find your hips, holding you gently in place. 

“Gin and tonic?” The seasoned gruff in his voice is sinful, your breath catching in the back of your throat. You can feel the smile spread across his mouth, which is still brushing your temple, and he inhales a full breath of the perfume you’re wearing. 

He thinks he knows you so well. He does, really, but you suppose that comes with a year of seeing each other. But, Beau Simpson is smug about these kinds of things, mostly because he’s a cocky son of a bitch that sits on a horse higher than any of the damn pilots he commands probably could ever fly. 

But it’s not really in a bad way—or at least, from what you’ve ever witnessed. Men under his command would swear he’s the antichrist, but all you’ve ever really witnessed from Cyclone is an insane amount of confidence, with a bit of selfishness peppered in here and there unless corrected. He’s not really the heartless cocksucker everyone makes him out to be—he’s rough around the edges, steadfast and calculating, but not mean spirited. He’s actually about the most understanding and upstanding man you’ve ever dated—something attributed to the fact that he’s nearly two decades older than you. 

On the whole he’s an entirely different man around you, and you’ve witnessed how he treats those under his rank. You don’t know much about the military, but you know about the nature of pilots and the firm hand they require— so you assume it’s a persona thing. 

“Cyclone” is someone he has to be, for the sake of his job—but Beau Simpson, when he walks through the door of his immaculate house in Mission Beach, is someone else entirely. 

At least, to you. 

You’d met him not long after his divorce, in the most cliche, Hollywood way possible—you’d blown a tire on the I-15, after a long three days traveling, and your spare was flat, probably just to spite you. As a capable young woman living independently in California, changing a tire was not the end of the world and was something you had managed to handle yourself before. 

Defeated at the flat, you’d resigned yourself to calling a tow truck and waiting out rush hour on the side of the freeway right when the biggest Ford F-250 you’d ever seen merged onto the shoulder, hazards flashing, and Beau Simpson had stepped out of the cab in all of his six foot glory. 

Broad shouldered, sunkissed, and sporting the classic aviators that seemed to be a staple personality to the pilots at Top Gun, he’d jogged over to you and asked if you needed any help. He couldn’t be any more military in his khakis, that hugged his perfect form just so, and you’d nearly stood there agog when he popped into a squat to check your rim, his ass perfectly filling the uniform pants in ways that the military should be ashamed of. 

Offering to give you a ride with a smile and a handshake, he slid the glasses up into his hair. Sunlight set off the fiercest green eyes you’d thought possible in a human being, and they had nearly sparkled with intelligence and his dry humor. Suddenly sweating, feeling every inch of the four hours of sleep you’d managed the night before and small, you’d accepted his offer of a ride on the pretense that he didn’t murder you with an ax and bury you at some military training facility. 

It was a flat joke, you realized, probably insulting and insanely stupid. You’d been kicking yourself in the ass as you ducked into the passenger side to grab your purse and the luggage you’d been lugging across the world, thinking that this was the most awful scenario to end the worst trip ever, but he’d started laughing and had been genuinely amused by the joke. 

Insisting he help you with your gear, he’d hiked the duffle bag onto his shoulder and winked, nodding to the F-250 with an amused smirk. “Would you like a background check?” Luggage still balanced on his shoulder, his arm moments from ripping out of his uniform sleeve, he’d popped the door on the truck, offered his hand, and helped you into his beast of a machine. 

You’d smiled, trying to fight the color on your face. “Make it a habit to pick up women on the I-15, do you,—” you’d glanced at the decorum on his breast, unable to make heads or tails of it, and he’d noticed.  “— oh, shoot—” you hadn’t realized any attempt at a comeback had unraveled, making you sound one hundred and fifteen percent ridiculous. 

He’d just laughed. “I��m a Vice Admiral, but you just call me Beau,” he’d adjusted the pack on his shoulder, but you doubted he felt any of the weight at all, “And I only stop for the pretty ones, honey.” His wink had started the long line of nails in your proverbial coffin, your gut freefalling into your knees. 

He’d tossed your stuff in the box like it didn’t weigh the 42 pounds the airport had charged you for. Batting the door closed with his gargantuan hand, he’d jogged around the front of the pickup and eased himself up into the cab like it was nothing. 

Leaving your car on the interstate as you drove away with a complete stranger, iPhone in hand the entire time, looking back, had been the biggest concern for your day. But, really, Beau had offered to tow your car home once he picked up some ropes, and from there the rest was history. 

You’d offered to pay him and he had strongly refused. Instead he’d asked for your number, in that masculine and old-fashioned way, if you were comfortable with it—that stupid little Camry that had broken down on the side of the road had been the beginning of the rest of your life. 

Like a true flirt, you’d plucked the pen from his breast pocket, and scrawled your name and number on the back of his hand as if this was 1986 and cell phones weren’t even a thing. Unable to remember the time you’d actually had to remember a phone number, it had come as naturally as breathing. It shouldn’t have, but it did. 

“Consider us even then, Admiral,” he’d stepped through the door, into your space, his six foot self towering you in the best way possible. Staring down into your face, mere inches from sharing air, he’d plucked the pen from between your fingers with a little smirk. “Thanks for all your help. I really appreciate it. Are you sure you won’t take any money?” 

He’d chuckled and it had punched you right in that sensitive little place that didn’t get nearly enough of the right attention. Lowering his hand between the two of you, he’d pointed a finger at the number you’d printed on the back of his hand, his smile slow and calculating as it split his lips. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am. This right here is the best payment a man could ask for.” Without anything more, he’d marched out of your doorway back to his pickup, leaving you and your clunky little Camry in his heady wake. 

More than promptly you’d taken a cold shower, unsure if you were thrilled or regretting giving him your number. 

It had taken him three days to text you back. Wondering if it had been on purpose you’d nearly pounced at the phone to respond back to his invitation to take you to dinner to a place not on the cheap—at all. It required heels and a dress, at the very least, and Beau was actually going to pick you up in that sexy ass pickup you hadn’t stopped dreaming about since it had merged onto the shoulder. 

Not really thinking twice, and really not caring if it was appropriate or not, you’d said yes—and he’d picked you up on a Friday and taken you to the grandest dinner ever. Everything about Beau Simpson was so very unlike any of the last dates you’d been on in the year before he’d entered your life, and that was probably because he was a man, not one of the drop-crotch pants wearing soft boy’s Tindr tried to hook you up with. 

His hands firming up around your waist send a bolt of pleasure down your spine. Brushing against his firm chest, you turn in his hands to kiss the corner of his mouth lightly, reaching on toes to whisper into his ear, “You find us a table with that intimidating death stare of yours, and I’ll grab the booze,” before slipping away to make for the bar. 

Laughing and shaking his head as you split up, you’re weedling your way up to the bar right at the moment the bartender turns to acknowledge you. She’s nobody you know, but she’s about your age, complete with blond hair pulled back into a braid and the wildest makeup you didn’t think existed off the red carpet. 

You ordered a Whiskey Sour with Woodford for Beau and your usual Gin and Tonic, resting your forearms on the bar’s surface as your foot lifted to the foot rail running the length of the walnut bar. Setting to work immediately on your drinks, it took less than a minute for a familiar face to recognize you, sliding into the spot at your right with a bright, goofy smile on his face. 

“Well look who it is,” his soft greeting welded your attention to him nearly immediately, and your face split into a wide grin as he leaned heavily on his arm. “Hello, ma’am.” 

Every one of the Top Gun aviators that pass in and out of Cyclone’s base had resorted to calling you “ma’am,” since that unfortunate mishap with Omaha last year. The poor soul had thought you were a pretty little thing sitting alone at this very bar, and had taken it upon himself to buy you a drink. Not knowing that Beau was meeting you here, he'd nearly died why Cyclone had chased him off with that sour expression of his.

“Bob Floyd,” you reached across to lightly punch his shoulder, “it’s good to see you! I heard you got papers to come back! When’d you get in?” He smiles at you in that sheepishly small way, a little flush rising to his cheeks when he realizes people have taken notice of your clear, loud voice drawing attention to him. 

“Yesterday morning,” he nods and lifts a shoulder, “it’s good to be back. Texas is great, but it’s nice seeing friends again. How’re you?” Bob Floyd is probably the sweetest human being that’s ever come through Top Gun, something that even Beau has confirmed—it’s no surprise he’s one of the best back seaters out there. 

“And Nat? Is she here?” 

He nods across the bar, to the pool tables–your gaze follows to find the pretty brunette laughing it up with some unfamiliar faces you don’t recognize, but know are one of Beau’s classes at the base. She’s beautiful, hasn’t changed a bit despite the fact she’d married last spring. You and Beau had flown to Miami for the wedding, a gorgeous affair that was small and close-knit. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” Bob asks, gesturing to you with a hand. It isn’t presumptuous and he isn’t niggling his way into good graces—Bob is just a gentleman. He’s more of a little brother than anything, you couldn’t imagine anything more serious with Floyd, and you shake your head no after scrunching up your nose a little. 

“Nah, you save your money for a pretty girl—I’ve got all the money I need, somewhere around here.” you pat his hand on the bar good naturedly as the bartender nudges the two drinks to you with her knuckles, you registering them with a nod and asking to put them, and whatever Bob will order, on a tab, “I should go find Cyclone, but it was great seeing you back in Cali, Floyd. Happy Friday!” You raise the drinks, stepping back from the bar. 

“Good seeing you too,” he pushes off the bar as the bartender slides him a bottle of Grain Belt, and salutes lightly off his brow with a nod, “Say hi to the Admiral for me,” he calls forward, and you beam a bright smile to him before winking and turning on the heel of your wedge. 

Sliding between bodies moving to and fro about the floor, you find Beau has secured a booth in the back, near the TouchTunes machine. Lord he cuts a fine figure, even if he’s starting to gray a little at the temples. For a man his age, for a man in general, you’re usually always a breath from salivating at his feet when he even dares to speak to you. That much hasn’t changed in a year. 

His arm is draped back against the booth as he watches people, sunglasses and his well set aside on the surface of the table. Fingers drumming, he catches you in the crowd, the corner his mouth ticking up as he doesn’t even try to hide the once-over he takes of your body. Smirking at him as you approach, he shifts a little in the booth as you plunk the drink in front of him. 

“Woodford, the way you like it,” you chime, and he thanks you with a low and raspy “baby,” tacked on at the end that makes your gut flop. Taking a slow sip of the Gin and Tonic that’s sweating between your fingers, you angle your head towards the bar. 

“You’ll never guess who I saw at the bar, who I am only a little pissed you didn’t tell me was in town,” you whine teasingly, about to sit across from him. He shakes his head, sits up in the booth, and gestures for you to slide in next to him. 

“Get over here and let me touch you,” he orders teasingly, crooking his finger for you to come. You set the drink on the table and he moves it beside his own before asking, brow lifted in interest, “Now who was at the bar?” 

“Bob Floyd,” you slide into the booth, your side brushing up against his as you scooch under his arm, “I wish you would’ve told me they were coming, Beau. I’d have switched dinner with Warlock and his wife to have them over. I want to hear all about Nat’s time in D.C.” 

“Sorry, baby,” he presses a kiss on top of your head, “I’ll remember next time.” 

“The hell you will,” you try to sound serious, but his snort only makes you giggle. 

You heave a deep sigh, thankful the week is over and that you can indulge in the throbbing headache of this place, your favorite place in Miramar to spend Friday night when the pilots are young, clumsy, and drunk. Watching them is a passtime, like dinner and a show, and oftentimes you and Beau commentate on the scenes you witness—thankful it isn’t you, trying to swim in a sea of crotch-twitching blowhards that don’t know the first thing about what a girl like yourself is looking for. 

The two of you come here a lot, it holds great memories—this was the joint where Beau had first kissed you. Your third date, you’d been dancing and had absolutely killed him in pool in front of Warlock and the rest of the brass. Face flushed with one too many screwdrivers and your fill of greasy appetizers, you’d stumbled outside for fresh air, ready to call an Uber to take you home. 

Then you’d been stupid, not realizing that Beau Simpson would be escorting you home every single night you ventured out with him. He’d followed you outside, asked you what was up, and had plucked your phone from your hand right as you’d opened the app to snag a ride. Not drunk or over the limit by any means, you were just a lightweight, and hated driving past midnight—and it was 2AM, close to last call. 

Standing so close to you, smelling like cologne and whiskey and ocean, he’d slipped his fingers through your hair and told you he’d never let you go home with some stupid yahoo Uber driver who drove too fast and ogled too much. 

Snorting out a laugh, you’d tried to shove him back playfully, but his hand had somehow perfectly fallen along your cheek, his fingers soft despite the fact he had a true man’s hands—his thumb had brushed the seam of your lips. 

And even to this day, your heart had never thrummed harder in your chest as it had when you realized he’d wanted to kiss you. Eyes tracking your mouth, he’d hesitated only a moment, his chest brushing yours in a way that set off a nuclear bomb in your gut. Electricity had jumped up your arm, and you’d bit the bottom of your lip nervously, before leaning the rest of the way in and standing on your toes to brush your mouth against his. 

He’d kissed you, like all the books and movies and songs talked about—slow, deeply, it had started off soft and tentative, like he wanted to make sure it was right, and that he was reading you properly. It didn’t take long for you to sigh into his mouth and reassure him that yes, he was divine and yes, this is what you wanted. At lightspeed, he’d deepened the kiss, his arms wrapped so thick around your middle that you could’ve sworn he would snap you in two. 

You’d liked to say it was the best kiss you’d ever shared with someone, but somehow, Cyclone seemed to leave you breathless each and every time you dared to kiss him. That night was the first of many make out sessions that had left you reeling and heady—where Beau Simpson had learned how to kiss you didn’t know, but your ovaries were immensely grateful for it, even if they were on fire each and every time he simply looked at you. 

Beau’s thumb slowly slides up and down your bicep in that lazy, pleasurable way he knows you love. Finger spinning along the rim of your glass, you watch the ice float in your cocktail, counting the beats of his heart as the silence grows between the two of you. It’s comfortable, just sitting like this, and you rest your other hand on his thigh, tracing his muscle through the denim of his jeans. 

Lifting your hand off his thigh, he interlaces his fingers with yours, bringing them to his lips for a kiss. Your head leans back against his shoulder and you watch him brush his mouth along your knuckles, the stubble of his five o’clock shadow delightful against your fingers. 

Figuring you could say the rest of your life like this, drinking on a beach, pressed up against him so perfectly, you don’t expect his heavy eyes to land on yours so quickly, looking so deep and rich as he tracks the features of your face. 

“I want to talk to you about something,” he says smoothly, his voice low, whether from the whiskey or the look he’s giving you you aren’t sure, “but I’m not quiet sure what you’re going to think about what I have to say.” Oh, boy—the mind games. 

One of the things you loved and hated about Cyclone was the way he set you up for a conversation. He had an intelligence that you’d never really quite figured out, which was probably why he was a phenomenal Vice Admiral and in charge of important people. Beau saw through situations, and people, like they were invisible, and he always had the right thing to say—even if it wasn’t always the textbook “right” answer. 

Very often he played this game, forcing you to think a few steps ahead of him, which was hard. 

“There you go assuming you think you know what I’m going to say before I say it,” you shoot back at him, your tone lifting a little to take some of the weight out the statement, “You should really stop doing that, Cy. It makes you look like an ass.” 

He shrugged a shoulder, his smile slow and deliberate. “I’m man enough to admit I’m an ass, when the situation calls for it,” he reaches for his short glass, knocks back a rough drink, and scooches it aside. “But I’m pretty sure my reservations are valid—you could go either hot or cold on this one, sweetheart.”

“Maybe you should stop making assumptions and just tell me what’s on your damn mind, Simpson.” Mildly irritated he’s taken this this far, you gently shove off his chest to sit up against the booth, angling to face him with an elbow resting against the back of the booth. 

Head plunking in your hand, you watch him smiling crookedly at the hang of your dress in this position, before snapping your fingers between the two of you. “Well, spill your guts, Admiral. I’m listening.” Your fingers drop from the cocktail glass to drum on the surface of the table, brow popped curiously. 

His eyes skip over you and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows a breath, before his thick hand scrubs down the length of his face. His cheeks pop as he puffs out a heavy breath, sitting forward just a little at the table. Elbows propped on the surface, he rubs around his mouth before looking sidelong over at you, eyes dragging for a beat to the cleavage showboating over the top of your dress—it was intentional, this was a new bra, and you’d absolutely almost died at how perfect it had made your tits look at the boutique. 

Your gaze pulls his back up. Nothing but heartbeats and moving air is between you, and the blaring music of what sounds like Elvis in coming from the speakers, but it’s almost wholly inaudible as you take a sharp pull of the Gin and Tonic. Unable to miss the heat rising on Beau’s face, your gut takes a nosedive into your knees—something was wrong. Simpson was never this reserved, this nervous, in the year you’ve been dating. 

A man like him has little to worry about—his career is locked in, he’s gorgeous and financially stable, no kids to worry about at home. He’s got a rock steady relationship with a woman who adores him and would throw herself in front of a bus for him. The perfect truck, a phenomenal house that’s almost paid for, men and women who respect him in the Navy— it’s nothing but blue skies for Beau Simpson, or so it seems. 

“Beau,” you challenge, your brow dropping seriously, “what’s up with you? Is something wrong?” 

The smile splitting his lips is instant, and he chortles, shaking his head a little. “No, nothing is wrong,” he sits back sharply, lifting his hips off the booth for a second before his hand dives into the pocket of his jeans. “I guess that really just depends on you, honey.” 

You barely notice him drop something to the table, his half-lidded look at you entirely too hot for this early in the evening. He sits forward, gaze dropping to track whatever’s in his hands. Blowing out another huge, steadying breath, he opens his palms and plunks a little blue box, wrapped in that iconic white bow, on the table. He’s staring at it like it’s likely to overrun him. 

Your heart is in your throat before it drops to your knees, spinning in ways that has thrown the room simultaneously into a kaleidoscope of colors, and a slow motion picture show. Suddenly there’s just you and Beau Simpson in empty space, the Hard Deck and its crowds and blaring music forgotten, and all you can feel is the rattle of blood between your ears, the racehorse of a heart galloping behind your ribs. 

Your eyes are cemented on that box and that box alone, and you realize you aren’t breathing when you release a squeak of a breath for air. Barely able to remember your own name in the presence of such a small object, you don’t even feel Cyclone reaching for your arm to gently slide you across the seat, back beneath his arm. 

He’s wrapped you in a hug against his chest, both of you just staring at the blue box. Dumbfounded, your lips part and close like a fish out of water, and you swear to God that Beau can either feel your heart throbbing out of your body, or is ready to catch it when it leaps out of your chest. Fairly certain that your heartbeat could power a small city with how hard it’s beating, you swallow a thick, painful breath of air that’s trapped at the back of your throat. 

“See, baby, I never really thought I’d ever be doing this again,” his hand moves to lightly play with the ruffle at the top of your chest, dangerously close to touching the swell of your cleavage that he now has perfect view of, “but I figured since I found the perfect girl, I’d better at least try to get her to marry me before I’m officially old.”

You angle away from his chest to stare into his face, fascinated that this is even a statement that Beau Simpson has wasted breath on. Biting at the corner of your lower lip, the corner of his mouth ticks up into a pleased smile as color fans over your face. He’s chuckling when he touches his forehead to yours, his nose brushing against the tip of yours so perfectly. 

 You manage to squeak, “Beau,” before your eyes track back to the little box. He’s already reaching for it, popping it open with a hand while his other is lifting your left one to the table. A little gasp sneaks out of your throat as your other hand comes to cover your mouth, hoping it’ll help you breathe. 

He doesn’t seem to register that you’re shaking, and even if he does, he says nothing. His lips across across your cheek as he presses a soft kiss to your temple again, easing out a slow, “I’m asking you to marry me, pretty,” you can taste the Woodford on his breath as his arm pulls you a little closer against his chest, “It’s usually customary that you actually say something.”

With that, he rests his chin on the top of your head as he plucks the ring from the little box, guiding it onto your left finger easily, like he’s spent a lifetime doing it. It’s an emerald-cut, haloed in diamonds on what you think is a platinum band, and even the shitty lighting of Penny’s bar makes the thing radiate like the sun. 

It’s perfect on your finger, everything you’d ever imagined an engagement ring to look like. Fisting your hand a little to test its fit, it couldn’t be any more secure on your finger. Somehow it looks like it belongs there, like it’s been there forever—like it was made, exactly, for you. 

Your mind is flopping trying to imagine how much a diamond of this size actually costs before you remember that Simpson is right—that you’re supposed to say something, and actually answer his question. 

But really he should know he doesn’t even have to ask, because your “Yes, yes, of course!” is enunciated what little effort you're exuding to control your sobs. You can’t imagine your makeup is going to withstand a marriage proposal, and you reach for a sharp drink of the Gin and Tonic. 

Beau is laughing as you take the shot of liquid courage, and he pulls the ring to his lips to press a kiss into it, as if it’ll seal the entire deal. Downing the rest of the cocktail, the glass topples over as you practically hurl it back to the tabletop, moving in to press a full, hasty kiss to his mouth. 

Enunciating what feels like a thousand “Yes’” between every breath, he guides you to straddle his massive thigh as you stare down into his face, searching his eyes. You can feel his heart against your breasts, abs that shouldn’t be nearly as hard on a man his age rock solid beneath your hand as your knuckles brush beneath his naval, tantalizingly. 

“I can’t think of anything better than being the Mrs. Cyclone,” your forehead touches his, sweetly, and you kiss the tip of his nose lightly. “Your ex wife is gonna flip out.” 

“I was hoping you’d agree,” he groans a little when you clench against his thigh, the jeans absolutely perfect against the heat of your core. “And we won’t tell Celeste just yet, hm?” 

You giggle, drawing your left hand between the two of you, eyes casting down to the Tiffany ring he’s placed on your finger. “And let me just say, Vice Admiral Simpson—you have one helluva taste in jewelry.” He dares to question if you like it, and you give a firm nod, “Of course I love it,” you draw back enough to wrinkle your nose disgustingly, as if this is even a question, “I’d love it if it was a ring from a quarter gumball machine. Duh.” 

He laughs, head kicking back against the booth to stare down at you lowering to lay against his chest. His hand moves to skip a lazy finger down the length of your spine, gentle enough to mind the sunburn that’s still flaming on your skin. 

“I didn’t think I could love you any more than I do, Cyclone,” you press a kiss to either of his pecks, which are pronounced in the far too tight t-shirt he’s wearing, “but this is a whole new level, baby.” 

“Glad to hear it, honey. That makes me a happy man.” 

#100 followers celebration #100 followers #blurb requests #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #controlled chaos squad #call sign meerkat #answered asks #i love chickens #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #beau cyclone simpson #beau simpson x reader #cyclone x reader #beau cyclone simpson x reader #beau simpson imagine #beau simpson imagines #top gun imagines #top gun maverick imagines

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

There's Nothing I Wouldn't Do

Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia x Nadia Garcia (OC)

A/N: I wrote this to go along with a series being written by mayhemmanaged and cassmitchell called Gunpowder & Lead! Update as of 01/31/2024: This story is no longer connected to anything being written by the two accounts mentioned above. They are reworking this story. This is MY HARD WORK AND EFFORT and I will not be deleting it just because this character is no longer included in their story.

The character of Attie Blake is @dakotakazansky's. Fern belongs to @desert-fern. Obviously all of the Daggers are the property of Paramount. The only characters who are mine are Nadia 'Nova' Garcia and Alex.

Disclaimers:Female!Reader, and all the warnings below!

Warnings: Abuse, Recovery from Abuse, Assault

As a reminder, everyone’s experiences are different. Everyone’s experiences are valid. This is a fictional story.

My Masterlist

It’s just past noon on a sleepy Wednesday in Austin, Texas. The afternoon sun beats hot against my face. I grab onto the hood shrouding my features and tug it up a bit higher to make sure nobody can see me. You see, I’m not supposed to be here. The only reason why I am is the baby boy in the carrier strapped to my front. Alex. My son and the only good thing I have in my life. 

So why am I standing in front of a tiny flower shop named Hera's Orchard in one of Austin’s winding streets of small businesses with my baby in my arms and everything important to me in a bag at my side? There's a rumor, a rumor floating around on the dark web talking about this place. Rumor says that if you walk in and ask if they have any asphodel in the back, they'll help you, no questions asked.

I inhale deeply, trying to breathe despite my bruised, aching ribs and broken nose. I have to do this. For Alex, there's nothing I wouldn't do. I can take any and everything Arthur, my husband, lays on me. But the minute he turned his hand on our son, I'd had enough. The bruised ribs and broken nose, they're what I'd gotten for standing in his way. They're also the final straw. The tiny bell above the door jingles and as I walk in, the humid air stinks of soil and the heady perfume of the thousands of blooming flowers lining the walls. I feel a little bit like I've walked into a jungle. But automatically, instantly, it feels a bit easier to breathe.

Alex seems to like being in Hera's Orchard too, his chubby little hands grasping for the bright colors he can see even as his big eyes go wide at the onslaught of new sensations. I cuddle him closer, kissing his downy head before boldly forging my way to the counter I can see in the back.

There's a sign on the petal strewn countertop, proclaiming, "Ring the Bell for Service! Someone will be out shortly!" Right beside the sign is a bronze bell, like the kind they have on hotel concierge counters. I press it just once, and then have to drag a few petals from Alex's little fingers. If I hadn't caught them, they would've gone right into his mouth.

"Buddy. Alex! No, honey. Those do not go in your mouth." My son is ever vocal, babbling very seriously back at me. I'm having an oh, so serious conversation with my baby when an amused mock cough catches my attention. While I was conversing with Alex, someone walked out from the back and came to stand behind the counter. 

She's beautiful, her shoulder length brown hair is tied up into a knot at the back of her head and green eyes bore right through me. She's small and slight, but when she folds her arms across her chest, the muscles bulge with hidden strength.

"Hi, welcome to Hera's Orchard. I'm Fern, how can I help you today?" I can't hide my nerves as I slide the hood off, finally revealing my face to Fern. Her piercing eyes soften, seeing the bruises rising up vividly across my face.

"Hi, Fern. I'm Nadia," I make Alex wave with his little hand, "and this little guy is Alex. I read online that you just got a shipment of some rare asphodels into the store? I was hoping to purchase one as a gift." My throat is dry as I catalog the expression on her face. Fern's serious and stern. The sweet, slightly goofy grin she'd leveled at Alex just moments before is gone.

"Come with me." I grab my bag and follow her into the back. "Hey Charlie! Can you take over in the front? I've got a consult on a custom flower arrangement here!"

Charlie, a teenage boy, thin and gangly with the wildest curls I’ve ever seen, levels Fern with a lovestruck expression before walking out to man the counter. I know what he's so struck by. Have you ever been in a room with someone and been captivated by them? That's Fern's energy, from head to toe. I follow her into a small, plant covered office. Just as we sit down, Alex begins whimpering and gumming at my fingers.

"Sorry, he's hungry. D'you mind if I nurse him while we chat?" I can't believe I'm asking a stranger this question. Arthur would cut me down on the spot if he knew. Per his rules, babies are to be bottle fed only when other people are present.

"Of course. Feed the little guy. Take your time. I take my custom arrangement consultations very seriously." Her smile is soft as I situate Alex at my breast, heaving in as deep a breath as I am able as he begins to nurse hungrily. 

"Now that he's eating, do you want to tell me a little bit about the person you'd like to gift this special arrangement to?" Fern's got a little sketchpad in front of her and she begins to sketch bloom after bright bloom as I explain what I'm looking for.

"So, you're looking for an arrangement that is subtle and beautiful to gift your husband?" There's something dangerous in Fern's eyes as she uses a knife to cut the sketch free and hand it to me.

"Yes.” I trace over the thin wispy lines of the sketch, before murmuring, “This is beautiful. How soon can you have it ready?" 

I can't believe I'm doing this. Can I poison my husband? That’s the catch about Hera’s Orchard. It is a flower shop, one that has rave reviews and an ever growing list of clientele, but it’s true clientele is a bit shadier than housewives who want a fresh bouquet for their dinner table. ‘Asphodel’ is the key word in those situations. 

"Come with me." Rather than answer my question, she leads me to a small doorway in the back of the shop. She unlocks it with a key and grabs my bag. With Alex in my arms, I walk through the door, pausing only so Fern can latch the door behind us. Fern stops at the end of the passageway, knocking on the door. A small window opens, looking us over before the door opens and we're let through. 

"This, Nadia, is the Underworld. This is Persephone and Songbird. They run this place and are my closest friends." The women I see arrayed before me are beautiful and strong. Are they the salvation I've been looking for? Can they save Alex, and by extension me, from more suffering?

"Hey, Bruiser!" It's Persephone, her tone musical even as she wiggles her fingers at Alex. "What's up, Buttercup?"

"Seriously, Seph?" Fern's disgust at the nickname is palpable but I can tell it's a play at disgust more than the real deal. "This is Nadia Wilson. She walked into the Orchard looking for an asphodel."

Those seem to be the magic words. Before I can blink, I'm pulled to a table with Fern on my right and both of the other women in the room seated before me.

"I'm Persephone," Her voice is soft as she looks at me with Alex snoozing in his baby bjorn after his lunch. "Bruiser mentioned that you needed some help?"

At my confused look, she's quick to assure me, "Hey, you can talk openly here. We've got the entire Underworld locked down. Nothing leaves this room. I can assure you of that fact. We got the best hacker we know to build our anti surveillance gear."

As much as that intrigues me, if only because I just built an anti-surveillance setup myself,  I desperately need their help more. So I let the whole tale spill. How I emigrated to Texas as a young girl and taught myself how to code. How I'd fallen in love with the green beauty of the city and the hills surrounding it. But sadly that wasn’t all I’d fallen in love with. Arthur Wilson had swept me off of my feet. He seemed like a gorgeous man who had money and seemed to adore everything about me. So I hadn't hesitated when he asked me to marry him.

"Alex," you explain to the women, "is the only reason why I’ve stayed in my marriage for as long as I have." 

My breathing is ragged as I stare at the wall behind their heads. "Arthur, my husband, has hated Alex since before he was born. My husband hated how my body changed with the baby. He hates how I'm not back to my pre-baby weight or body type yet. So he takes it out on me." 

"At first it was just with his words. A probing comment here, a harsh word there. Then he started hitting me. I worked so damn hard to lose weight, to go back to what I looked like before, and it still wasn't enough. He's been hitting me more and more frequently."

"Then to top it all off, there is something else too. He's been cheating on me, I know he has. I've found red hairs on his clothes and he stinks of a perfume that's not what he buys me and insists I wear. But I could stand all of that. Last night, he tried to hit Alex. He's only three months old!" Your voice breaks and a tear slips down your cheek as you sob the words out. "He's just a baby, after all. Babies cry!"

"I can't let him hurt my baby. I can't live like this. Not anymore. Please help me. Please." My broken tones echo in the room around me as I make pleading eye contact with Persephone and Songbird in turn.

"Of course we'll help you, sweetheart! We're the Furies. It's what we do." I can't help my sobs as I let myself fall apart at their words.

3 weeks later

I wasn’t sure what to expect as the outcome from that first meeting at the Underworld, not at all. But whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t this. It’s 3 AM and red and blue lights blanket the front lawn of the suburban home I shared with my husband up until a few hours ago. That’s when I’d come downstairs with Alex in my arms and found Arthur and his newest side-piece, the red-head whose hairs I’d noticed on his suits, dead on the lounge chair in his study in various stages of undress. Like any dutiful wife, I’d screamed until our housekeeper found me and stayed by her side until the police arrived.

My pain and fear are all too real. Since I met with Persephone, Songbird, and Bruiser, it seems like Arthur turned all of his attention on me. I’ve been under a microscope ever since. He’s added a potentially broken wrist, two black eyes and a twisted ankle to the broken nose and bruised ribs I had the day I’d left Hera’s Orchard with a gorgeous flower arrangement under my arm. So the tears I cry as I clutch Alex to my chest in front of the sweetest Police Sergeant I’ve ever met are real. His face has been continually distressed since he first found me and I can’t believe how good he makes me feel.

“Sergeant Mickey Garcia,” he’d said, smiling at me as I tried to settle Alex from when the baby had been startled awake at the sirens of what seemed like the entirety of the Austin Police Department spilled onto our front lawn. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

I’d stammered back my own greetings and let him lead me into the kitchen.

“C-can you tell me what happened?” He’d blushed crimson when I tried nursing Alex to get him to settle down. His face had only grown more and more serious the more I spoke. I found myself spilling the entire tale to him, captivated by the curls spilling over his forehead. 

“Sergeant Garcia,” his superior, a man with arresting green eyes and dark blonde hair calls Mickey over to him. All night I’ve been getting appraising looks from the men of APD. Either I look like shit with a squalling baby in my arms or they’re trying to figure out if I have the courage to turn black widow on one of the Police Department’s biggest donors. I do, but they won’t ever know. I look like a beaten down, broken woman, but I’m far from it. I’m a professional woman. I build custom computers and security protocols for corporations around the world. It’s my true passion and calling, one which Arthur had never cared to know about.

As Mickey briefs his superiors, the looks I get go from being evaluating to pitying. I know I look a sight, bruises turning blue and green on my tan skin and with bags so dark under my eyes they’re purple. Add to that my pajamas, bedhead, and a squalling baby and I’ve successfully slipped under APD’s radar. They’re sure to have pulled the security footage, the footage my paranoid husband always had recording, by now, the footage which shows me asleep in my bed or sleep-walking to Alex’s room when my collicky baby wakes me up in the middle of the night. Alex is a sleeping weight against my chest before Sergeant Garcia walks back to me.

“We’re going to get you into an ambulance Mrs.Wilson and get you and Alex to the hospital and check out. If you’d like, we can call someone to come stay with you while you’re there and who can take care of Alex while we wait?” His voice sounds like sex and smoke. Were I not so recently a widow and not so injured to boot, I would have jumped him on the spot.

“Yes, I have someone I can call. I’d like to change and grab a bag for Alex if I can first though?” At his nod, I limp my way upstairs, putting together a bag for Alex before handing the Sergeant both the bag and Alex at his insistence. Arthur never once held Alex like that. When I step out of the bedroom in a pair of jeans and t-shirt, Alex is happily drooling against Sergeant Garcia’s chest and he looks too comfortable for this to be the first time he’s holding a baby.

“Wow.” My voice is quiet. “This is not the first time you’ve held a baby, is it Sergeant?”

His chuckle is bashful and shy. “No, actually. My sister in Miami has three kids. I’ve held them all.”

“D’you have any babies of your own, Sergeant?” I don’t know why I’m asking that question, not now of all times.

“No, I don’t. But I’ve always wanted to.” He clears his throat before helping you into the ambulance and handing Alex to you. “Now let’s get you in touch with who you wanted to call. Who’d you like to call?”

My voice is all fire as I say, “Attie Blake. She’s a friend and my lawyer.”

4 months later

Arthur’s sister and mother had put up a perfunctory fuss when they found out he was dead, accusing me of murdering him and any other depraved things that came to his mind. They even tried to sue me. But even their high paid team of lawyers couldn’t stand up to Atlas Blake. With Attie’s help, I managed to win the case and secure all of Arthur Wilson’s fortune into a trust fund for his son. Mickey’s been by my side ever since as well. It was almost too easy to fall in love with him. Especially when I saw how easy it was for him to accept Alex as a part of the package deal. Mickey helped me scope out the location so I could buy the small shop near Hera’s Orchard which I made into a net-cafe and officially introduced me to Birdie Floyd and Emory Seresin, who I only knew so far as Songbird and Persephone.

Since then, my life has never been better. The Furies are the closest friends I have, and the shop, named Daedalus’ Automata, is the perfect place for me to do my thing. What’s my thing, you ask? Before my marriage, before Arthur demanded a trophy wife, I was in cyber security. Give me any network and a computer and I could tell you how secure the network is and at least four ways that I could make it better. I also make custom computers and anti-surveillance hardware. It’s how I continued making money under Arthur’s nose. Now, it’s how I’ve been paying back the Furies for helping me. I keep any mentions of the Furies out of the internet and away from the Task Force’s attention. The best part is how Mickey doesn’t care when I come home smelling like grease with Alex in my arms. How I wish I’d met Miguel Garcia first. 

It’s late when I stagger through the front door late on a Friday night. It’s date night and I’m so late that I’m sure any excuses I have will be flimsy at best. Mickey had grabbed Alex from Daedalus when he got off of his shift, so I don’t have the baby with me when I walk through the door. The entire house is filled with the most delicious scent, and as I look at my watch, I know I’m at least an hour late for dinner.

“Mickey?” My voice is soft as I toe my shoes off and walk through the house. “I’m sorry I’m late, vida. I had this absolute wreck of a computer get dropped off for repairs.” In part that’s true, I did have a wreck of a computer dropped off for repairs. But that’s not why I’m late. The Furies were running an op tonight, one for which I was on comms, making sure my girls were safe as they were running around doing what they do best. I walk through the kitchen, my heart dropping at the sight of the candles on the dining table, the wax nearly melted away.

“Mickey?” My voice drops to a whisper when I walk into the study and see all of my computer screens fired up, filling the entire room with their cool blue light. On the screen flash three dossiers, my own, Fern’s and Ranger’s in addition to the blueprints for the facility we hit tonight. It was a strict information gathering op, but so important. How could I have been so stupid that I hadn’t locked that information down before I left this morning?

“I think you’ve got some explaining to do, amor.” I’ve never heard Mickey sound so serious. “I love you, and I promise I’m not angry, just worried. Tell me what’s going on.”

I can’t resist melting into his embrace, inhaling the musky warm scent of his cologne as he squeezes me tight.

“I love you, Miguel. I just need to have you sign something first. Then I promise I’ll tell you everything.” Then I reach for my phone and speed dial Attie. 

“Hey Attie, I’m going to need an NDA here.” I can’t help looking at Mickey over the next half an hour we wait in the kitchen. I’m puttering around nervously, barely able to stomach the stew Mickey made while I finished up at the shop. Mickey’s not much better. He eats too, but he keeps stealing these searching glances of me, and the tension enveloping our small kitchen is nearly too much to bear. He tries to speak a few times but each time, stops short. I can’t help wondering what this means for us, for Alex who already has heard us both refer to Mickey as dad or daddy.

It’s the doorbell ringing which startles me out of the pensive way I’ve been glancing into Mickey’s eyes. It’s Attie at the door with Bradley right behind her.

“Hey Nova.” She’s smiling, which should provide me with a sense of relief. But I can’t help the dread pooling in my gut or the bad portents which my mind is constantly bombarding me with.

“Hey, Attie. C’mon in.” I hug her for a few minutes before leading her and her six-foot shadow into our kitchen.

“Hey, Roos.” Mickey sounds exhausted and I can’t believe it’s because of me. “So you’ve been read into what the girls are doing too?”

It breaks your heart when he folds into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and runs his fingers through his curls. 

“How bad is it, Bradshaw?” At Bradley’s lack of response, I can see Mickey’s jaw tighten and worry cloud his features even more.

“It’s alright, Mickey.” It’s Attie who takes control of the situation. “Read over this, sign it, and then Nova and I will tell you what’s going on.”

Mickey gives the document a cursory look over, scrawling his signature where required before pushing it to Attie and leveling me with one of his intense panty dropping looks. It’s with my heart in my throat that I let the whole tale of my introduction and involvement in the Furies spill. Anger glints in his eyes as I finish. 

“I need a drink. Whiskey, Roos?” He can’t even look at me. I understand needing a bit to process, but Mickey’s never processed like this before. Please let him understand. Please let this not be the end. I share a scared look with Attie before standing to grab a tumblr for her, too. I don’t drink, not a drop, and while I’ve never minded Mickey or our friends drinking, tonight the sight of the alcohol slipping down his throat just fills me with dread. Maybe it’s residual PTSD from Arthur, who’d beat me if he got too drunk, but it’s just as likely to be the tense situation I’ve found myself in. 

“So where do we go from here?” Mickey’s looking right at me as he says the words. “I know you know this, amor, but I’m on the task force hell bent on finding Persephone and the Furies. To stop them. How can I protect my family? The woman I love, the woman I wanted to ask to marry me tonight, when she’s on the other side of the work I’ve devoted my life to?”

My smile is tremulous as I launch myself into his arms. Relief floods my veins, maybe this isn’t the end!

“You wanted me to marry you, Miguel?” I can’t hide my sobs as I bury myself into his skin. His arms are strong and secure as they automatically wrap around me.

“Course, amor. I’ve wanted to ask you to marry me since the day I met you.” I can’t help the clumsy, salty, kiss I press to his lips. “I’ve wanted you and Alex from first sight. This doesn’t change anything, not between you and me. It’s going to change everything at work, though.”

I get lost kissing Mickey for several more long moments, until the baby monitor on the counter chirps, spilling Alex’s cries into the room.

“I’ll get him,” I murmur in Mickey’s ear. “Attie will join me. Talk to Bradley, vida. He knows, so does Bob.”

Attie’s a silent shadow behind me as we walk into the nursery and I change the baby’s diaper.

“It’s going to be okay, Nov. The entirety of Mickey’s loyalty is with you and this little guy. They’ll figure out a way to keep us safe. And we’ll do our part to keep them safe too.”

Mickey looks relieved when I walk downstairs once Alex is back to sleep. It’s looking at his face and the home that we’ve made together that I make a vow I’ll keep if it’s the last thing I do. I’ll protect my fiancé, protect his friends and protect our son. If someone finds out about the Furies, it won’t be because of me. Nobody I love will ever get hurt again, not if I can stop them. 

It’s that righteous vision that fills my veins when Mickey and I get married in a small courthouse ceremony a few weeks later surrounded by our friends. It’s a hurried engagement, but necessary, especially since spousal immunity can only help when in our situation. He adopts Alex too. Attie checked, Mickey adopting Alex does not void the Wilson trust fund. Things seem to smooth between Mickey and I. Our two week honeymoon in Miami is the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. Not to mention, the most time I’ve spent naked in one stretch. Mickey didn’t let me out of bed for the first 48 hours we were there. 

When we get back, life sinks into its own balanced pace. My new normal, punctuated by the gorgeous solitaire diamond on my left ring finger, is full of promise. But as things pick up and I start hearing more and more about a new king-pin taking over Austin, the more I worry about what’s to come. But I’m able to put my worries aside for the most part, staying vigilant. I do what I can to help the cause, sending the young boys and girls who need help to Cora’s Bakery down the street for pomegranate scones. After all, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and that’s all of us. It’s why we do what we do.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@dakotakazansky @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @desert-fern @sarahsmi13s @hisredheadedgoddess28 @roosters-girl @roostette @bobby-r2d2-floyd @footprintsinthesxnd @genius2050 @angelbabyange @djs8891

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #controlled chaos squad #dagger au #mm gunpowder & lead #cm gunpowder & lead #mama may and birdie create mayhem #mickey fanboy garcia x oc #fanboy x oc #mickey garcia x oc #i hope you love this one #i had so much fun writing it #nadia garcia

[sarahsmi13s]

Baking Playlists

for @roosterforme 's rocktober event!!

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x pilot!reader (callsign: cookie)

characters: jake seresin, reader, jake's parents and sister

warnings: language, slightly suggestive, domestic hangman, hangman acting like a man child

word count: ~1.9k

a/n: the song that inspired this is def leppard's pour some sugar on me, i took it in the very literal sense 😅

summary: it's jake's parents anniversary and you want to do something sweet for them, however jake is awful in the kitchen and is a huge distraction

Jake didn’t know what to expect when he invited you to come with him to his parents place while on his leave after the uranium mission. Maybe just you and his sisters hitting it off right away, and going shopping with his mom. Or rolling around in the grass with the herding dogs and the barn cats. Hell, maybe you would have made a friend with the deers that randomly showed up on the property.

But he didn’t expect this.

You and Jake had managed to take over his mother’s kitchen one afternoon while she was gone for a few hours with multiple errands and then come home really quick to change and to go out for her and his dad’s anniversary.

“Okay, what are your parent’s favorite cookies?” You asked Jake, looking around his mother’s kitchen. 

He blinked at you, “Oh um… I think Ma likes blueberry lemon cookies and Dad likes sugar cookies.” You nodded at him with a grin before moving around the kitchen and grabbing ingredients and finding the recipe for both cookies.

“Why-why do you ask?” Jake asked, leaning against the island as he watched you move. “We’re making cookies for your parents for their anniversary, Honey,” you said as you moved to go to the fridge.

Jake snatched your arm, “Sugar, you just met them. You don’t-” “I’m doing it and so are you,” you said,with an authority in your voice that made Jake want to stand at attention. 

“Sugar, you know I’m terrible at baking. I’m a wiz on the grill but you ask me to bake a cake and I’m lost.”

You arched a brow at him, “The directions are on the box Jake…” He fixed you with a look, “And you know how I feel about directions, Sugar.” 

Scoffing with a laugh, you shook your head, “Either way, doesn’t matter. My callsign is Cookie for a reason. I just need your help, you don’t have to touch the oven. Please baby?” 

Jake clenched his jaw and looked away from your puppy dog eyes, knowing he’d give in the moment he looked in them. “Pleeeaaaseee Jakey?” You tried again, gripping his shirt and pouting. But Jake wasn’t gonna give in, not without something in return.

“Okay, I’ll help-” “Yes!” “But-” Your face dropped, “No, no not the ‘but’.” He chuckled before pulling out his phone, “I get to pick the music.”

You huffed but nodded, “Fine.” He grinned triumphantly and pressed his lips to yours, “But you can’t get distracted, got it?” He chuckled, “Yes ma’am.”

For the two batches of blueberry lemon cookies, Jake had behaved and was actually helpful. He only pulled you into a few serenades and air guitar concerts when the song was a mutual favorite.

But as you started mixing the sugar cookies, one of Jake’s favorite songs came on.

As Shenendoah’s Two Dozen Roses faded out, Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me’s classic intro filled the kitchen.

Jake practically gasped and his eyes cut to you.

“No, Jake, I’m trying to make your dad's cookies. Don’t even think about it,” you scolded, not even having to turn to him to know he had a devious grin on his face.

Jake just rolled his eyes and leaned on the island, dramatically lip syncing to Joe Elliott. He was doing his best to get your attention and get you to abandon the dry ingredients in front of you.

You managed to ignore him as you scooped out the first two cups of flour.

But as it turns out, Jake is hellbent on getting your attention. 

So as you scooped out the last half cup of flour, he grabbed your hips to spin you around. “You gotta squeeze a little, squeeze a little / Tease a little more / Easy operator come a knockin' on my door~,” Jake sang as he spun you.

“Jake!” 

He stopped and looked at you, “What? What happened?” You huffed and dropped the now empty cup onto the granite countertop. With your arms bowed at your sides you looked down to survey the damage.

Your once black shirt was now covered in stark white flour. Your socks were no better and your legs were covered in flour as well. 

“Oh, shit,” Jake said, a huff of a laugh behind his words. But he swallowed it and covered it up with a cough as he looked at the mess he knew he made. “Sugar-” You held up a finger, “Not now Jacob Dallas. You had one job.” 

“I honestly didn’t think that would happen Darlin’, I swear.” 

You shook your head and took a breath, “Get the broom and the dust pan, clean it up. Please.” Jake sighed, “Yes ma’am.”

He sulked over to the pantry to retrieve the items and you turned back to the bowl.

Def Leppard was still singing as you looked in the bowl and Jake started sweeping.

“Pour some sugar on me! In the name of love!”

You smirked a little and looked from your bowl to your boyfriend, who was still mumbling along as he cleaned up the mess. 

With a perfect idea, you dipped your fingers into the bowl and grabbed a good amount of flour in them. 

Jake stood up straight after having bent over to pick up the dust pan, “Okay I got it.” You hummed and shook your head, “Missed a spot.” Jake’s brow furrowed and he looked down, “What, where?” You lazily pointed to the floor, “Right there.” “Where?” He looked up at you, confused, “Sugar I don’t-” “Right there,” you giggled as you looked at Jake’s face, which was now covered in flour. 

“Cookie, did you just?” You laughed harder as you nodded, “Sure did! That’s what you get, JD.”

Jake growled a little and wiped his face, “Was that necessary?” You shrugged innocently, turning back to your ingredients, “Maybe, maybe not.” 

He shook his head but laughed, “Okay truce?” You giggled lightly and nodded, “Yeah, truce.”

“Kiss on it?” 

“Not until you get the flour of your lips. Raw flour tastes disgusting.” 

Jake groaned but complied, tossing the contents of the dust pan away before going to the sink. 

He grabbed the sprayer hose and turned the faucet on, spraying any remaining flour off of his face. With a tea towel, he patted his face dry before looking at you. He looked back at the nozzle out of the corner of his eye, a devilish smirk on his face.

“Hey Sugar, look at me, I think you have something on your face.” You hummed and did as he said, “Oh do I? Whe- Jacob Dallas Seresin!” 

You let out a high pitched groan and glared at Jake, only to get more upset to find him gripping his sides as he laughed. 

Oh, if he wants to play that game you will gladly play that game.

Grabbing an egg you walked over and broke it on his chest.

Jake grunted a little at the impact before looking down and watching the shell fall to the floor. 

With his head still down, he looked up at you through his brow. Your stomach dropped and you knew you had unleashed the beast that is the ‘Hangman’. This was a competition now, and he was gonna do whatever it took to win. 

“Jake, Honey, Baby, Sweetheart, let’s talk about this. There’s no need to do anything rash,” you attempted feebly. But it was no use.

Jake was quick to grab the bowl of mixed wet ingredients and pour the contents on your head before you had the chance to run.

“At least it’s good for your hair,” he quipped off as he sat the bowl on your head. 

The cold mixture of egg mixed with vanilla extract dripped down your face as you took the bowl off your head. Sniffing a little, you sat it down before wiping away the liquid from your face and wiping your hand on Jake’s shirt.

“I will beat you like an egg, Hangman.”

Not too long after the food fight broke out, Deana and Levi, Jake’s mom and dad, came home.

Needless to say, Deana wasn’t prepared to see the disarray her kitchen was in.

Flour, eggs, and sugar coated the counters and the floor; it also happened to be covering her son and his girlfriend as they continued to throw handfuls of the powdery substance everywhere.

She wasn’t angry… okay maybe she was a little upset. But she could see the look on both of your faces as you laughed and made strong memories together in her kitchen and it filled her with joy… even if the kitchen looked like a warzone.

“Um, Jake, my darling son, what.. um.. what happened to my kitchen?” She asked, trying not to laugh at the mortified looks on your faces seeing her and Levi standing in the doorway.

“Oh, um.. Well you see… Y/N and I were-” Jake stopped seeing that both of his parents were nearly ready to explode with laughter and he relaxed. “We– Y/N was trying to make you cookies for your anniversary and I was helping. A song came on and I made her spill some flour and then one thing led to another and we ended up here.”

“Awe, Y/N honey, that's so thoughtful. Thank you.”

You nodded, smiling, “Of course. But um we unfortunately only got the blueberry lemon ones done… Sorry Mr Seresin, we can definitely still make you some in the morning, after we restock your ingredients.”

“Wait seriously? You’d do that?” 

“Levi Micheal,” Deana scolded, slapping him on the arm. “You can eat the blueberry lemon ones, do not make her wake up early to make you cookies.” 

“It’s really no problem, I don’t mind doing that.” 

Before Levi can speak, Deana covers his mouth, “Only if you want to do that. But don’t feel obligated.”

“We’re definitely restocking your ingredients though Ma, most of your flour is on the floor…” 

She smiled and carefully walked over to kiss his cheek, “Thank you, baby.” She kissed your cheek too, “Thank you too. Now at least I know why Jake calls you ‘Sugar’, cause you’re sweet.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s why he calls her that Mama,” Jake’s youngest sister, Lyla, commented as she walked through the cleaner side of the kitchen to grab a snack before going back to her room.

“Lyla Blake-” Jake muttered in a threatening tone. “Oh don’t get your flight suit in a knot, I’m only half-joking,” she smarted off, dodging Jake’s egg cover hand making a grab at her as she left.

Deana opened her mouth and looked between them, pointing back and forth. “You know what, I’m not gonna ask.” 

“Probably for the best DJ,” Levi chuckled, kissing her cheek before retreating upstairs.

She shook her head with a playful eye roll, “Okay, I know it’s late, but I need you both to clean this up and when you’re done, go hose off in the backyard. Got it?” 

You and Jake nodded dutifully, “Yes ma’am.” “Alright goodnight.” “Goodnight Ma.” “Goodnight Mrs Seresin.” 

She went upstairs and you and Jake looked at each other before surveying the catastrophe around you.

“You do know the song is about s-”

“Jacob Dallas-”

“Shutting up.”

hi, hello, thank you all for reading and making it to the end! i hope you enjoyed! and for this particular event i've got one more to do so be on the look out for that 😉

top gun taglist <33: @milesdickpic @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @sebsxphia @nobody7102 @djs8891 @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @horseshoegirl @cassiemitchell @mayhemmanaged @roosterforme

#top gun rocktober #jake seresin x reader #pour some sugar on me #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #hangman imagine #controlled chaos squad #hangman x reader #hangman fic #hangman top gun #jake seresin #tgm fic #sarahsmi13s

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 14 - Sex on Fire

📓 We have fluff! We have some smut!

This song specifically was one of the big three that inspired this fic! When I saw TGM and the scene at the end when Mav takes Penny up in his plane, this song matched the vibe, and I knew I wanted this for Jake and Liz.

Though I would love for you guys to try and guess which one is the song that inspired the whole story! Cause there is one! 👀

❗️+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, Mentions of an original child character, sexual themes (I mean Smut, so get outta here if you ain't +18,), FLUFF, aerophobia, and second dates.

#7k

Part 13 | Masterlist | Part 15

(Bradley's Spin-Off one shot here)

Jake and Sadie were conniving little lunatics. 

Scratch that. Sadie was an annoying insect who knew how to push buttons to get what she wanted. Jake was a gullible poor sod who had the habit of being played by said insect more than once. Because you knew without a doubt, sitting in the front seat of Jake's truck, blindfolded without any idea where you were going, this had her name written all over it.

"Is the blindfold really necessary, Jake?"

"If you knew where I was taking you, you'd jump out of my truck in an instant."

"That's not very reassuring."

Jake chuckled, bringing your hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles. "Sadie would kill me if I didn't follow through on this. After all our hard work."

"So you're doing this more for her than me," you tease. You could hear the smile in his voice when Jake replied, "The ladybug incident didn't scare you enough. Sadie's scary when she wants to be."

You chuckled softly, Jake joining in as you felt his thumb stroke across your knuckles.

Going on a date had been the last thing on your mind.

Tyler was still a major concern. Even with Cyclone keeping a watchful eye on the group of police assigned to Sadie and your case, they still needed actual leads. You hadn't paid much attention to his phone call the other day, explaining the pressure on Tyler's father to drop out of his political race or how Tyler's stupid white car was spotted on the interstate, leaving California altogether.

It should have brought you some comfort, but it didn't. The longer time stretched on, the more anxious you felt, wondering when he would make his next move.

Then there was also the matter of Bradley. Stupid, over-emotional, Bradley.

It had been days since Sadie found you in the bathtub - days since the fight. You hadn't heard from him, nor did you expect to. Maybe a tiny part of you didn't want him to reach out. But any nasty thoughts you harboured for him in the days following only managed to turn themselves into pity.

You knew his story. Mav told it enough times for you to recite it by heart. Bradley had only been two when his father tragically passed away. And Carole, his mom, had been devastated. You couldn't begin to understand the circumstances he had to go through as a kid. Each time Mav told the story, he always stressed that no love could have matched Carole and Goose's.

It's no wonder Bradley felt their loss in the way that he did. And you did feel partially guilty, wondering if talking to him about everything before it had gotten this bad would have made a difference. But it was clear he was internalizing something bigger than just hurt feelings. 

You weren't going to make the first move. That would have to be up to him.

It better be a damn good apology.

The idea of a possible date started when Sadie had called you a panicking-inducing hermit, much to Jake's amusement, scared to do anything remotely fun outside the confines of the house. Honesty? It was more to do with the fact there had been no sign of Tyler, no white car following you or sitting outside your house to encourage your paranoia.

You had gone to bed early after that, Jake and Sadie staying up playing a game of cards. You had no idea what time it was when Jake climbed into your bed, waking you up in the process when he pulled you into his chest. But it was definitely later than it should have been for a game of cards.

Jake had stayed with the two of you. Every morning you got to wake up either next to him or in his arms. The Daggers were still grounded; whether it was repairs or upper politics of the Navy, you weren't sure. But you were utterly grateful for his presence. 

It became evident that it was clearly more than a game of cards the following morning. Because in the hours after breakfast, Sadie made herself scarce. And Jake purposely kept you away from the garage, where he had parked his truck, in case Tyler decided to visit.

Sadie's maniacal laughter was another indication, so loud you could hear it through the garage walls. You were slightly concerned about what Jake was letting her do in there. 

But it all came to a head when Nat and Bob showed up at your door, telling you they were watching Sadie for the night, the Bug in question grinning ear to ear as she joined you at the door. You tried to refuse. You didn't want to leave her alone. In a surprise move, Sadie pouted at you. 

She had never once pouted over anything. No, she pushed, sassed, humoured, and produced receipts when she wanted to get her way.

 It freaked you out, so much so you couldn't bring yourself to say no. Which is how you found yourself in the passenger seat of Jake's truck, Nat and Bob standing with her on your front porch as she shouted for both of you to have a good time as he backed out of your driveway.

This was the worst possible timing. And yet, after everything they did, you felt like you owed it to them to try.

"You deserve this, darlin'." Jake's voice breaks through your thoughts, knowing you feel guilty. You squeeze his hand, dropping your chin to your chest. You have to remind yourself that Sadie is safe at home with Nat and Bob, probably arguing over music or what board game to play. And most importantly, you were allowed to take time to do things like this.

It's a few more minutes before Jake finally parks his truck, letting go of your hand and gently taking hold of your face. "Do you promise to give this a chance?"

"I don't even know what you've gotten me into. What Sadie and you got me into."

You can't see his face, so you can't tell what he's thinking. But you can imagine what he looks like right now as you feel him tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. You bet he's staring at you apprehensively, gritting his jaw, and letting out a tiny huff of breath.

"You trust me, right?"

You turn your head to place a kiss on the palm of his hand. "You know I do, Jake."

"Then trust me when I say you won't regret this." You sucked in a breath before you nodded.

Jake lets go of your face to get out of his truck, walking around to open your door and help you out of your seat. You were instantly met with the smell of gasoline and pavement, the hot waves travelling up the bare skin of your legs, and your dress slightly flowing in the wind. There's a second where you think you heard the rumble of an engine or a zoom of a plane, but Jake doesn't give you much time to think about it as he helps you step down and shuts the door behind him.

Looping your arm through his, he leads you away, walking for a bit until he stops and turns to face you, squeezing your hand.

"Stay here," he says, letting you go. You cross your arms over your chest as you wait for him, hearing the sound of keys rattling together, sliding metal and a chain dragging along the ground. And then that's it. Besides the sound of wind in your ears and a few birds chirping, you don't hear any sign of him, and it makes you wonder if he's left you alone, standing in the middle of nowhere.

Until you feel his hand gently touching your arm, and you jolt slightly. "It's just me, Liz."

He guides you forward, making you stand in one spot, hands steadying you by your elbows. You feel him against your back for a few seconds before he's working at the knot of the blindfold.

"Just remember you promised," he said before taking it off.

You opened your eyes - to Mav's plane staring back at you.

You understood why the blindfold was necessary. You would have jumped out of his truck in an instant.

"Jake..."

"I said I would get you into a plane for our second date," he said, proud of himself. You knew where this was leading, what he wanted to do. You subconsciously stepped backwards, the words "absolutely not" escaping your lips.

You didn't get very far. Your back met Jake's chest, and he instantly had his arms around you, trapping your body against his. You turn, burying your face in his chest. "I'm terrified of flying, Jake."

"I'm going to be with you the whole time. I promise Liz, nothing bad is going to happen to you." He has the entire nape of your neck in his hand while this other hand is rubbing down the length of your spine in a comforting manner.

You don't know where your fear of flying came from. You've never been up in a plane before, a fact you certainly wouldn't admit to Jake. You were okay with heights, hikes on mountainside cliffs and long car drives.

Maybe it was the idea of not being in control of your body or being grounded.

"Jake, I don't know about this," you admit into his shirt. He presses his lips into your hair before explaining, "I won't let anything happen to you. We're just going up for a simple flight. The wind is perfect right now. There will be no turbulence. Trust me; I'm not called the best aviator at Top Gun for nothing."

He takes his hand off your neck to lift your chin. "Please," he urged, pressing a kiss to your lips. "Let me share something about my life that I love."

It was then, at that moment, you realized Jake and Sadie had something very much in common.

You could never say no to either of them.

___

If anyone had told you a week ago you would be sitting in the backseat of a plane, currently taxing down to a runway, you probably would have dropped dead on the spot. Even with your nerves on fire and a strong case of nausea, you let Jake help you up and into the back seat once he pulled the plane out of the hangar with little protest.

He was so excited to share this with you. Whether it was in how he helped buckle you into the seat or when he placed the headset on your head, there was a side to him you hadn't seen before. Almost giddiness, you thought, despite every internal voice you ever had screaming at you to run for the freaking hills. Even then, you were grateful you got to see this side of him.

As Jake speaks with the control tower expertly, you dart your eyes around the cabin. While there wasn't anything in terms of controls in the backseat with you, everything still looked old. The seat felt old. The buckles of the straps tying you down looked old. Even the walls looked old.

You also felt higher than you should, staring down at the plane's wings, eyes scoring the features, the colours, and the bumps. You knew you wouldn't find anything wrong. Jake was extremely thorough in his flight check, and you knew Mav cared for this thing like it was his child. But you were still scared, even believing if Sadie could do this multiple times with Maverick, who without a doubt took her for joyrides, you could handle a simple flight with Jake.

You should have fought harder to say no. You should have fought harder to say no.

Jake turns back slightly, looking at you from the corner of his eye. "I know it might seem scary, Liz. But trust me. I got you. We'll go slow."

Jake flies in an F-18, a machine capable of much more than whatever Mav's hobby plane could do. So his definition of slow is highly relative. It makes you feel nervous, wondering what he had planned for you.

It isn't until Jake pushes the plane forward onto the runway that you realize you have to accept that this is happening. Then he's accelerating forward, and you cannot help but hold your breath.

Adrenaline floods your veins as the plane takes off, gravity attempting to pull you back down in heavy anger. You slam your eyes shut, trying to force air into your lungs. The angle seems wrong, and you have this feeling both of you will crash into something, making you turn your face into your shoulder to hide.

Even when the plane levels out and things seem okay enough, you can't open them. Your heart is in your ears, and you're trying not to hyperventilate or make a noise. You don't want to ruin this for him. Because deep down, you knew, even with all the teasing and assurances, Jake would turn the plane around for you the second he got the slightest indication you were seriously freaked out.

So, for the longest time, you keep them shut, nothing but your heartbeat in your ears and the rumble of the old engine to keep you company. Even with Jake making this ride as smooth as possible, you couldn't help but alternate between gripping the edges of the seat or hugging yourself tight.

Don't open your eyes. Don't look down. Don't open your eyes. Don't look down.

"You alright?" Jake's voice crackled through the headset. First, you nodded with a hard sallow. But then you realize Jake couldn't see you. Your voice trembled as you managed to reply with, "Yes."

He chuckled to himself, the noise warm and full of amusement. He knew. He always did when it came to you.

"Open your eyes, Liz," Jake urged gently, his voice a mix of reassurance and excitement. "I'm not going to murder you if that's what your thinking."

Despite your anxiety, a smile manages to break through at his words. Actually, they are your words from the day of the hike when you took him down that hazardous unpaved road to the thrift shop. That had been so long ago, way before anything to do with Tyler, Bradley, or even before whatever this was with him.

He had given you the benefit of the doubt then. You owed it to do the same for him now. Shuttering a deep breath, you gathered the courage to open your eyes slowly.

At first, you half expected to fixate on the view of the ground underneath the plane's wings or catch a glimpse of the shoreline or ocean. That you'd hyperventilate, witnessing perhaps an engine on fire or a piece of Mav's plane missing, flapping in the wind.

You saw none of those things.

Jake had taken the two of you further North of the airport, towards a group of mountains. You were right in the middle of them, green caps and tall peaks making you forget you were even bound to the seat of the plane.

This wasn't flying.

This felt like soaring.

Jake banked the plane around one particular mountain, a tall one at the very end of the group. It wasn't until he purposely straightened out after circling around it, did the sun fully come into view. It was already beginning its descent toward the horizon, painting the sky with various hues and shades of fiery oranges, soft pinks and yellows.

The view from the Ferris wheel at the Fair had nothing on this.

Humans weren't supposed to witness views like this. They weren't supposed to be up this high, feeling like they could touch the clouds or be this close to the sun. Or see the shine, this bright, off the peaks of mountains or even be this parallel with them.

This was only something anyone could ever dream about seeing

As the plane glided through the sky, you could feel the sun's warmth casting a gentle light on your face. You closed your eyes, not out of fear this time, but contentment, placing your hands on either side of the window and taking a deep breath.

But when you opened your eyes, your eyes began to water, and you found yourself biting your lip as you looked back toward the sun. The words spilled out of you before you knew you had said them, your voice almost sounding broken as a single tear escaped down your cheek.

"Hi, Ridely."

Because there was something about being up here, in the clouds and the surrounding mountains and feeling the sun on your face, that brought you that much closer to her. Some part of you felt guilty for refusing Mav, Nat and even Rooster, to some degree, to take you up and experience this.

She was here with you. And you had never felt more free.

"You ready?" Jake asked you. Unknown to you, he was smiling, having heard your remark. You looked at the back of his head, a grin adding to the happy tears gracing your face. "For what?"

Jake didn't give you a reply. Instead, the plane tilted, and suddenly, the world was turning on its axis. A squeal caught in your throat as you found yourself spinning upside down.

"JAKE, YOU MOTHERFU.."

But your voice caught in your throat before you could finish your sentence, Jake laughing at your reaction.

Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as you originally thought. You didn't really know what to think about it, whether gravity would be pulling you out of your seat or seeing the world below would make you pass out.

The small part of you, still holding on to your fear, wanted to be mad at him. But the part of you, the one secretly enjoying the entire experience, won out.

The truth was, you couldn't help the laughter suddenly escaping your mouth. You couldn't help the smile as Jake accelerated the plane. Or when he let the nose dip ever so slightly to let it fall, you couldn't help the shout of exhilaration.

The rules of aviation or flight were beyond you as he controlled the plane through the air, nerves dying out and instead being replaced with pure joy.

You really could have cared less about being mad at him now.

The world below, and every problem in it, disappeared. And you were alright with that.

___

You didn't want to admit to yourself as Jake finally landed the plane that you never wanted that to end. Even if you should be feeling relief at being on solid ground or when he parked the plane in front of the hanger, you were high on adrenaline and sheer joy. 

You peered up at Jake's hesitant face after he helped you climb out of the plane, standing on wobbly legs. You couldn't do anything but pull him down by the back of his head and kiss him hard. He laughed into the kiss, rubbing his hands up and down your side as he spoke against your lips. "I take it your not afraid of flying anymore?"

You pull away, pressing your forehead to his chin. "Only if you are flying the plane."

It's feeding his ego, you are sure. His chest puffs out under your hands, and that cocky smirk he's known for returns, present in the kisses he's placing on your head.

"So I still have a girlfriend, then?"

You stiffen. Jake would want to put a title on this, even if it was only your 'official' second date. The both of you have done so much of this backwards, way outside the box of how 'normal' relationships were supposed to go. But in a few weeks, Jake and you went from a first date to sleeping in the same bed to him staying over for a week.

When was your and Jake's relationship ever straightforward? And as you told yourself in that bathroom at the fair, there was nothing wrong with being in love with Jake Seresin.

"I didn't know you had one," you say nonchalantly. Jake plays along, hands gripping your hips. 

"Oh, you didn't hear? Big Bad Hangman is suddenly enamoured with this assertive, savvy bartender at the Hard Deck. Turned him down flat on his ass the first time they met. Didn't stop him from wanting to be around her, though." 

"The shameless, cocky flirt who says the wrong thing at the wrong time, humbled by her and her sassy niece." He leans down to whisper in your ear. "Not to mention she's fucking hot."

You hummed, nodding your head and purposely avoiding looking at his face when he pulled back, your cheeks flaring up hard. 

"Will you look at me, Liz?"

"I can't."

Jake laughs at your reply. "You can't? Now why's that?"

"Because you're all ego right now and boastful, and you get that cocky smirk when you do," you mummer, still purposely avoiding his eyes. That cocky smirk grows even wider as Jake tugs your hips into his.

"You mean this cocky smirk?" he teases, pressing his nose to yours, maintaining his smile. You're fighting with yourself not to smile, but it's a battle you've already lost. Jake nuzzles his nose against yours before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, still grinning. And then another to your cheek, just below your eye, before he's littering your face with them, and you laugh as you try to escape him.

"But if you really want to know," he says after you give in, smiling at him as he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. "I think you were mine the second you gave me that clean slate in your kitchen."

 "I was yours?" you press playfully, quirking an eyebrow. Jake pauses for a second, making a show of having to think about his answer. Till his face lights up in recognition, and he says," Oh wait."

He makes a show of standing straighter, dropping his voice lower and making his southern accent purposely thicker. "You've bewitched me body and soul since that night in your kitchen."

"Oh," you laugh wholeheartedly, knowing precisely what he's doing. "You're not trying to, Mr. Darcy, this!?"

He frowns. "I thought you liked Pride and Prejudice."

You grin at him, your hands working through his hair before you kiss his lips, pulling back slightly to mummer against his mouth. "That was before I had a decorated hotshot Navy fighter pilot sleeping in my bed."

Jake growls, and you giggle as he bends you backwards, kissing you again.

Stowing away Mav's plane didn't take very long. The two of you were on the road with daylight still out and Jake telling you the night was far from over. He took you to your favourite takeout place before driving to an Outlook, telling you he'd like to come here to think things through.

You know he intends for the both of you to sit on the flatbed of his truck when he backs it into the parking spot, purposely making it face out towards the water. He presses a button before the two of you get out, making the back cover come off. 

But Sadie's involvement in conspiring to get you into the backseat of Mav's plane clearly didn't end with the blindfold. Because the second two of you walk around and Jake drops the tailgate, Sadie's handiwork glares back at you.

You don't know where to look first. Your air mattress sits in the flatbed with a spare mattress cover. A few pairs of blankets are covering it, and you know she would have needed help to get the two spare pillows sitting at the back, the ones you kept on the top shelf of your linen closet.

Of course, Jake could have managed this all on his own. But the dead giveaway was the lights. It only could have been Sadie who had taken the battery-operated string lights you had on the bookcase in your family room and strung them to the sides of his truck, the electrical tape you knew had been Jake's idea.

When you get over your shock, you turn to Jake, absolutely speechless that he let her do all this. He shrugged like it was no big deal. "What? I have to give her credit. Bug's creative."

He set the bag of food down before placing his hands on your waist, lifting you up to sit on the edge of the tailgate. "Get yourself comfy, darlin'."

You didn't move. For the sole fact you were wearing a knee-high dress, and if you turned to climb on top of the mattress, he'd get a pretty nice view of your ass. He shot you a look once he hopped up, and you shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "You can go first."

He chuckled knowingly. "Nothing I ain't going to see eventually."

It was nice to know Jake's ability to make you bush hadn't waned after recent events.

The two of you settled up against the pillows, takeout containers in both of your laps as you ate, talking about Sadie and what it might look like for her when he had to return to school next week. Then his phone rang. You spied the face-time ID as Jake reached for it on the blanket in front of him.

Janet.

He looked guilty as he asked, "Do you mind if?"

You shook your head, smiling around the fork in your mouth before managing, "Of course not."

Jake handed you his takeout container, bringing his phone up to answer the call. But instead of his sister's face, he was greeted by the sight of a baby in a blue cap.

"Surprise!" Janet's tired voice rang out through the speaker. "Meet your nephew!"

Jake's eyes glazed over the second he stared down at his phone. His hand holding his phone slightly shook, and he reached out to grip the edge of his truck with a thump. You couldn't help yourself when you dropped the takeout containers onto the blanket in front of you and peered up over his shoulder.

"Oh my god, he's adorable."

Suddenly, the camera flipped on his phone, and Jake's sister was staring back at both of you.

Even in a hospital gown, her exhaustion evident, it was clear Janet was Jake's sister. Her hair was the same colour, her eyes the same shade of green. Her mouth was the same shape, and you were sure if she smiled, you would undoubtedly see Jake's same smile beaming back at you.

"Shit, he wasn't kidding when he said you were gorgeous."

You ducked, hiding your face behind Jake's shoulder, heat rising in your cheeks. Whether it was the quickness of your escape or Janet's revealing words, Jake seemed to snap out of his daze.

"Janet!"

"Hey, I gotta embarrass you where I can. Call it payback for all the times you shared my dirty little secrets with Ian."

"Those weren't secrets, Jan. He needed to know what he was getting himself into."

"Bless his heart for it too."

You shook your head, chuckling into the back of Jake's shirt at their banter. Jake looks over his shoulder at you, slightly amused.

"Come out, Liz," Janet called out from the phone. "I don't bite."

"Much," Jake grumbled.

This wasn't exactly how you imagined meeting his sister, one of the few people he actually considered his family. Slowly lifting your head from behind Jake's frame, you managed a hesitant smile, gripping him for dear life. "Congratulations, Janet."

She smiled at you, replying, "Twelve hours of labour, but it was so worth it."

"What did you name him?" you asked, unable to contain the joy in your voice.

"E.J.," she said, looking down at the bundle in her arms before returning to look at the screen, clarifying, "Elijah-Jacob."

Jake drew in a sharp breath, and Janet didn't hesitate when she cried out, "As if I would name him anything else, you idiot."

Resting your chin on Jake's shoulder, you peered up at the side of his face with an affectionate smile. "Your full name's Jacob?"

But he didn't answer you, instead asking his sister, "Now, why on earth would you do something as stupid as that?"

Janet shot him a disappointed look before her eyes tracked over to you. "Liz, will you help me out here?" she said, tilting her head toward Jake.

"Glady," you replied, tapping the back of his head. Jolting under your chin, Jake faced you, slightly shocked. But you only shot him a disapproving glare.

"You're my baby brother. You risk your f-ing life day in and day out every single time you go up in that jet of yours or go out on deployments to make sure everyone else can sleep safely at night. And when you are home? I won't even start on all the shit you stand up against, not with Liz here."

Janet lets out a huge sigh before exclaiming, "So don't question my judgment or my choice. There was no way I was going to name him anything else. Suck it up."

Jake could only shake his head in disbelief, a humbling smile growing with each passing second.

"Now, hand me over to Liz. I wanna talk to her properly."

This is so backwards, you think, as Jake passes his phone over to you with a knowing smile. You are suddenly filled with nervousness you are not used to. This was the one person you knew Jake sought approval from. Everything was riding on this one interaction.

But your nerves settle instantly when she grins at you and casually mentions, "So, he managed to get you up in that death trap."

"It seems everyone knew about this little plan but me, even my niece, dead centre in the middle of it."

Janet grins at the mention of Sadie. "From what Jake has told me about her, she's a girl after my own heart."

"Sassy? Opinionated? Knows how to get her way?"

"Something more like being an insect, but I can see where the similarities lie."

You chuckle softly, feeling Jake rub your side, before you say, "You remind me of her."

"I'd love to meet her one day. And you in person. "

"I'd like that. I'm sure she'd love you."

Jake shook his head violently, and you couldn't help but laugh at him. "My nephew will get all sorts of horrible ideas if he meets Sadie. Don't start him that young!"

You gasp at him. "Are you saying my niece is a troublemaker, Jake Seresin?"

"You know she is."

You shake your head, bumping him with your shoulder.

"Please get my number from my little brother over here. I want somebody to send cute baby pics to," Janet pouts.

"Could you send me embarrassing stories?" you wiggle your eyebrows. Janet smirks, a playful look in her tired eyes. "Oh, you want them. I'll give them to you, no problem."

 Oh boy, did you like her.

"Nope." Jake tries to reach for his phone, but you are quicker, laughing at his attempts as you stretch your hand out of his reach. "You have a ten-year-old in the palm of your hand who has an honesty problem and years of embarrassing stories about me. Let me have my chance!"

"In comparison? Nope. Not even close. Give me my phone." Jake holds out the palm of his hand. And then you get an idea, shooting him a playful stare as you extend your hand farther.

"Come and get it, Cowboy."

Suddenly, Jake lurches forward, almost toppling you over. Jake's efforts to retrieve his phone only cause you to break out in a fit of giggles, your stomach cramping so much you fall over into the air mattress, Jake landing on top of you. Your grip on his phone is still tight.

"If my sister wasn't on the other end..." There is no threat in his words. Jake's smiling with you as you continue to laugh, trying to pry the device out of your hand. Janet's shout through her own laughter interrupts the two of you. "Keep it pg, you two! Literal newborn ears over here!"

Jake manages to swipe his phone back when you laugh even harder at her words. You sit up, wrapping your arms around his as you try to fit yourself into the view of his phone screen when the two of you settle.

Janet looks up at something in her room and frowns. "I gotta go. The nurse will come back any minute and yell at me, I swear."

The both of you say your goodbyes, Janet explaining more than once she was happy Jake found you. But just before he went to end the call, Janet called out his name. 

"Watch out for a package from Texas coming up there."

Jake's smile flees at Janet's words, slowly dissolving into a sombre expression. His body tenses under your touch, and you see the second his eyes darken with a deep-seated seriousness. It's a side to Jake you've only truly ever seen once before - when he found you handcuffed on the floor of the Hard Deck.

Growing up, you and Ridley had all sorts of codewords and phrases for different things. Those were the unfortunate circumstances you had to live with as a kid. So you knew right away Janet didn't mean an actual package. Whatever it was, Jake was clearly not happy about it. It was making you deeply concerned. 

Jake reaches for your thigh, grip tightening when he replies, "Yeah, okay."

He hangs up. And doesn't mention anything else about it.

__

After finishing your dinner in silence, you sat next to Jake, staring out at the horizon. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you tight to his side. At some point, you had placed both of your legs over his lap, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

It was still light out when Jake and you left the tiny airport, and the sky was now turning dark, leaving the small parking lot of Jake's outlook out secluded, the two of you alone and in utter peace. His fingers were absentmindedly stroking your skin as you both took in the last few minutes of the sunset.

"You okay?" you asked him, kissing his shoulder before looking back over the water, suddenly aware of Jake's hand slowly getting closer to the inside of your thigh. He kissed your cheek, replying, "Never better."

You don't buy it.

"You're an uncle now," you wondered aloud. Jake shrugged. "I already was one."

"But it's different. Sadie is..."

"Sadie counts." He quickly corrected you, kissing your forehead before looking back to the water. "She'll always count."

It warms you, his level of affection for her, but you cannot help but detect a sense of finality in his tone. Reaching up, you cradled the side of his jaw, turning his head back to you so you could lean up and kiss him.

Jake presses his lips to yours softly before pulling back to look at you. There's something in his eyes you cannot name.

Then his lips are back on yours, this time steady and encompassing, parting your lips with his tongue. Your grip on his face tightens as you suddenly find yourself being tilted backwards, sliding down the pillows until Jake is half on top of you. Your head is pillowed on his bicep as he kisses you, your hand still cradling his jaw. 

He then goes for your neck in a desperate breath, open-mouth kisses, sucking harder and harder. You're used to this. The two times Jake had you pinned up against him, he had marked up the side of your neck. But his hand, not trapped under your head, is wandering. Groping at your breast, sliding down your stomach to the outside of your thigh, testing his grip. 

He hikes your outside leg up, fingers brushing the sensitive part inside your thigh.

Your breath hitches.

"Is this okay?" he whispered into your ear. You hummed your reply, nodding once. But Jake grazed his nose along your jawbone lightly, fingers delicately sliding up and down the inside of your thigh.

"Words, Elizabeth."

Damn him and his accent, saying your full name.

"Yes," you gasped out, wanting him. "It's absolutely okay."

"My good girl," he says before diving back to your mouth. You know he's teasing you as he strokes your skin, making you quiver with anticipation of what is to come. But then he's reaching for the helm of your dress, lifting and folding it over your stomach, as he releases your lips in a harsh pant. 

The question is there in his eyes as he looks down at you, fingers resting just on the helm of your underwear. You swallow, opening your legs wide. Jake's eyes glaze over, and his arm flexes under your head. You're giving him this—this first experience of letting someone be with you. 

He doesn't hesitate when he starts dragging them down. You eagerly lift your hips to help him take them off. Once he gets them past your ankles, he shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans. 

Jake hisses when he takes you in, so spread out for him. "Can I touch, darlin'? Can I touch what is mine?" 

Fucking hell, Jake. Do you have a consent kink?!

"I'm yours," you gasp into the night air. "Please, Jake, Please."

Jake rests half on top of you, swallowing your whimper as he finally reaches and presses down on your clit, slow, gentle circles that have you closing your legs and sharp breaths racking your chest. Your hand shoots out and grips his wrist, feeling his muscles contract under your hand.  

"Keep them open, Liz," he warns, shifting down slightly so he can turn you and press you back against his chest. Jake slots his leg between yours, expertly thrusting his knee so your leg hooks up over his, never stopping in his efforts.

He rubs at you with ease, carefully watching how each movement makes you react before he switches to his thumb, and a single-finger probes at your entrance. You thrust your hips back into him, a strangled noise crawling out of your throat, and Jake uses it as an opportunity to push his finger inside. 

"That sound, " He breathes against your cheek. "You're driving me goddamn insane."

You used to worry back in university that you'd feel trapped if you ever found someone you trusted enough to do with this. But even with Jake poised at your back, working between your legs, you did not feel as if you weren't in control. Your body is open to the air, and Jake is only holding you down by his hand and the weight of his words. 

You feel safe. 

He adds another finger, curling them inside you, searching for something when you let out a sharp whine. It burns. The stretch. The sensations that were spreading across your groin. 

You felt full with Jake's finger's inside you, squelching sounds accompanying each time pumped them in and out of you.  "You're so tight," he moaned into your neck. "I won't have you here, but fuck Liz, the day I can have you gripping my cock." 

You bury your squeal into the flesh of his arm, your arm not currently gripping Jake's wrist, whipping out to find the side of his truck, making a string of lights fall. 

Not slow. This is not slow. 

"Knowing I'm your first." He bites the soft skin behind your ear. "That your mine." 

Your cry is muffled into this arm, and Jake glides his nose up the back of your neck to your ear. "Don't look away, Liz," he soothes. "Let me see your face."

It's the last thing you want him to see, ironically. The faces you make aren't pretty, and your eyes are slammed shut. And you were sure if you did open your eyes, you'd explode at the slight; you spread out so shamelessly open to the sky. Jake's hand between your legs, working you higher and higher off an unknown edge from the flatbed of his truck. 

But you do manage to turn your head back, Jake immediately catching your mouth with his in a desperate kiss. When he lets your mouth go, you whine out with a pant, "Fuck Jake, I can't." 

"Yes, yes, you can." Your words must have encouraged him because suddenly, his thumb is circling faster, and his fingers are pressing harder, working that spot inside you. Your eyes are screwed shut, tears seeping through as the ball in your abdomen grows tighter and tighter, nails biting into his wrist. 

"Are you going to let go for me, darlin'," he gasps into your open mouth, hovering above you. You wanted to, desperately. "Will you let me have it? 

You drop your head to his arm, the feeling too much to bear. You are on the edge of something, fire radiating from your core and making your thighs shake. Jake pants into your ear, once, twice before he moans, "Will you cum for me?"

His thumb swipes over your clit as he presses hard on that spot inside you. You keen, lights exploding behind your eyes as you arch your hips towards his hand, legs trembling as you clench around Jake's fingers. The cool breeze from the sea or the cool air from the night sky does nothing to the heat flooding your veins.

He's there. Turning your head back, catching your cries into his mouth, and taking the bruises you're pressing into his arm without flinching. In fact, he's smiling ever so slightly, watching you come apart underneath him.

You weakly turn in his hold, whimpering and trying to bury yourself into his chest as every emotion hits you at once. Jake pulls his fingers from you as you do, and you feel embarrassed at the wetness coating your thighs. Gripping the back of your leg, he rolls, taking you with him. Your body crashes limply onto his chest, and the one leg he's holding straddles his waist.

Your trembling, gripping his shirt to ground yourself and will strength back into your body.  There's a hyper-awareness you are not used to dancing across your skin - allowing you to feel the fabric of the blanket underneath you, the chill in the air, Jake's warmth, your release cooling on your thighs and covering his fingers, grasping your bare leg.

Any rational thought has gone out the window. Except for the fact you know Jake could not have gotten off from that.

He's hard against the inside of your thigh, through the denim of his jeans, the rough fabric creating friction against your clit as you rock lightly to the pulses aching in your core. He's groaning with each press, fighting with himself not to cant his hips up into you.

Even as you continue to whimper your aftershocks into his neck, you find yourself trailing your hand down his chest and to his stomach, fingers barely slipping under the waistband of his jeans, just reaching the first few strains of hair.

But Jake grunts, pulling your hand away and shaking his head. He brings it up to his mouth, kissing the palm before stating, "It's not about me right now."

"Jake..."

He doesn't give in to the soft pleading of this name. Instead, he grips the roots of your hair at the base of your skull, ensuring there isn't an inch of space between you as he pulls you close. His other hand is gripping the bare skin of your ass, keeping your dress up around your hips and lower half exposed to the cool air.

This time, you do feel trapped.

He's holding you like you'd be carried off by the breeze, ready to disappear at any second. As if faced with another deployment, off to fight a war with the fear of never making it back. The switch in him is so sudden that the aftershocks of your recent orgasm are reduced to cooling embers, and it only adds to your unease when Jake gasps through a sharp breath, "Just let me hold you and forget about everything else."

The concern you felt for him earlier returns with a vengeance.

Jake's anxious about something, and he's not telling you why. Suddenly, the chill in the air is too cold, the blanket is too rough, and Jake's fingers and the insides of your thighs are chalky, rubbing against your skin.

You focus on breathing instead, trying to calm your rapid heart. You weren't going to hold whatever this was against him.

Because despite not knowing what to think about having your real first sexual experience in the flatbed of Jake's truck, you today were the happiest you had felt in a while, even with literal hell overtaking your life. 

But listening to Jake's heartbeat pound under your ear, the paranoia you've ignored so many times before makes a home in your chest, and the allusion that was today dissipates, and everything comes rushing back. Tyler. Bradley. And now, whatever Janet warned Jake about that was making him act this way.

It was all a possibility again.

You couldn't help but feel this silver of happiness wouldn't last that much longer.

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Part 15: Have you ever seen the rain? Coming soon

Wickett ;)

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[bobby-r2d2-floyd]

the nanny part 3 | hangman x reader (saturn)

note: finally a longer one? ish? it took a minute to write because i had a headache every day for the last week and then i had a take home organic chemistry exam that i needed to get done (gotta maintain that 4.0, school is important kids!)

warnings: swearing, very light angst, jake is pinning, saturn is in a relationship. lowkey jake is a simp.

i don't think that this is a warning but i've not explicitly said this either, but any female character i write is bisexual. of that isn't your cup of tea, i'm sorry.

word count: 2.6k

not beta'd we die like men.

inspired by: @roosterforme

previous | next

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Jake was a mess. 

For no reason, honestly. He had typed out, deleted, retyped, deleted again, and then said said fuck it and opened up his notes app to try and type a message out to you about this weekend. All this weekend is, really, is a friendly chat between a dad looking for someone to help him out with his infant daughter that he didn’t know existed a month ago, and Penny Benjamin’s solid 10 niece that gave him a half mast when she was holding his daughter, for no reason. 

And when you called him Dad-man? His heart stopped. He thought about it all night. 

By the time Friday night had rolled around he still hadn’t texted you in regards to going out tomorrow, so when he got a text message from you, he was a little confused, he hadn’t given you his number… had he?

Hey dad-man! Rooster gave me your number since I hadn’t heard from you all week. Are we still on for tomorrow? I know that Avery is a little young but the San Diego Zoo is doing a little arts and crafts thing with the animals tomorrow we could check out? My treat? you had sent along with a link to the event and he smiles as he types out his message to you.

Hey! You know I honestly had like, 30 different messages typed out to send you but they were all ass ideas compared to yours. I’m sure Avery would love it even if she doesn’t understand what’s going on, lol maybe we could grab coffee or something from a cafe afterwards?

It’s a date, dad-man ;) you send back after a few minutes, which is quickly followed by: pick me up at 9? 

It’s a date, darlin he sends and then groans into his hands “darlin? Seriously? She’s going to nanny your fucking get, get a grip Seresin.” he sets an alarm for 7 am, not like he needs it though. Avery is awake and hungry by 6:45 then out for a nap by 8:30. 

He’s asleep just after 2 and at 6:45 on the dot he can hear Avery stirring through the baby monitor on his nightstand. He’s quick to stand up before her wails get any louder, changes her from any accident she could have had in her sleep and then heads downstairs to make her a bottle. While he’s feeding her, he has coffee brewing for himself so he isn’t a complete zombie when he sees you in a few hours. He gets Avery dressed and her diaper bag packed before he’s setting her in her bouncer in the bathroom so he can take a quick shower without leaving her unsupervised -- she has the time of her life listening to him sing. 

It’s 8:45 by the time he’s finally leaving. Avery forgoing her morning nap and choosing to fight him instead when he was trying to get her dressed, and then puking on his one clean shirt that he had that wasn’t his service khakis or a graphic t-shirt set him behind his schedule. He quickly found a shirt that he turned into a tank top, groaning at how he looked like a gym douchebag 

You were waiting on the steps of Penny’s house for him nearly 15 minutes past 9 for him, and boy were you a sight to see. He definitely regretted his choice of a dingey old Navy shirt but that was his own fault for putting off his laundry and choosing to favor doing Avery’s instead. You were wearing jean shorts you obviously cut yourself, sinfully short but also modest at the same time. The shorts were paired with a pair of tennis shoes and a plain white tank top and a… fanny pack?

You hopped into his truck with a “you’re late” but he just laughs and points to the fanny pack.

“The 90s called, they want their stuff back.” 

“Hey, don’t shit on the 90s. Plus fanny packs are back in. It’s so much more convenient than carrying a purse or other bag around, they’re less likely to be stolen, and both my hands are free.” you say and do a little jazz fingers motion and he just smiles and shakes his head. You put your seatbelt on and he’s pulling out away from the curb.

“Besides, you can’t shit on what I’m wearing, when you’re wearing that.” 

“Hey, be nice to me. Av puked on the shirt I was going to wear and I hadn’t had the chance to wash my clothes yet.” 

“Well, let’s skip the zoo. Avery won’t know the difference, we’ll go back to your place and I can help you clean up.” you suggest and he shakes his head.

“My laundry is not your responsibility. We’re going to the zoo.” he says in his dad voice and you just laugh.

“Whatever you say, dad-man.” you kick your feet up against his dash and if you were anyone else, he’d be telling you to get them off the dash.

The drive to the zoo goes by quickly and despite you calling dibs on paying the entrance fee, Jake is slapping his card down faster than you can even open your fanny pack. You shoot him a glare and he gives you a smirk that sends most girls falling to their knees. Keyword, most.

Jake pushes Avery’s stroller through the zoo while you walk beside him, making light conversation and getting to know each other as you make your way to where the kids' activities are located. 

You learn that he comes from an abusive home. His dad was an alcoholic who passed from liver failure not that long ago, flooding the family with relief. He has three sisters, plenty of nieces and nephews. You learned grew up on a ranch which explains how his legs bow out the smallest amount, his favorite color is green (of course), his favorite tv show, food, even the book he read recently. You told him about your life too, growing up in eastern Tennessee, your parents' accident, living with Penny and helping her raise Amelia to the teen she is today, your time in Vermont, why you picked education to go into. Jake easily saw you as someone that he wanted to spend more time with, it was a no brainer that you would be the one watching his daughter when he needed it. Hell, he could even see Avery calling you mom one day, in the distant future of course. 

You three had finally made it to the area of the zoo where the activities were being held and you take Avery out of her stroller and sit with her in your lap while Jake sits next to you. The warmth of your skin against his making him hotter than the San Diego sun. 

For the next hour you two sit, comfortable with each other while Avery mashes paint around the ziplock bag she was working on. Thankfully for the sun it dried quickly and you drew out a few animals on the rainbow colors covering the page. 

At only 4 months old, Jake is in such awe at how you talk to and how you treat Avery and even at how Avery responds to you. The babble that you do back to Avery, how sweet you talk to her, how she reaches for you, all of it. Just melts Jake. 

The time to walk back to the truck wasn’t long enough, in his opinion, and he was already planning a trip back when she was a little older and would appreciate it a little bit more. 

You put Avery in her carseat while Jake breaks down her stroller and puts it into the bed of his truck before shutting the lift gate. “Still up for coffee?” he asks just as you’re shutting the back door.

“If you are.” you say and give him a smile, he opens your door for you and offers you a hand and you just laugh and take it before hopping up into the cab and once you’re settled he shuts the door and walks around to his own side.

The drive to the local coffee shop he had in mind was surprisingly quick to get to, granted he did speed a little through some yellow lights to get there.

You don’t bother getting Avery’s stroller out, choosing instead to just undo her car seat and carry her in that way since she was sleeping peacefully already. You tell Jake your order and he stands in line while you go and pick out a table, a little table in the corner and you set Avery’s carrier the table after making sure that it was sturdy enough that you didn’t need to worry about bumping the table and having her shift too much. 

Jake comes and takes a seat since it’ll take a minute for the food to be prepared. “They didn’t have hazelnut, is caramel okay?” he asks since you had asked for a hazelnut latte.

“Caramel is perfect, actually. It’s my favorite flavor.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” he says with a smile and leans forward on the table and you give him a kind smile back.

“So dad-man. Think I’m fit enough to watch Avery for you?” you ask and he chuckles.

“I think you’re qualified to do more than that, but yeah. She loves you, I love you-oh I uh-” his ears redden and you laugh.

“No I get it, don’t worry.” you say as his name is being called for the food and drinks. You watch him walk away, shamelessly checking him out as he goes, you bite your lip softly but look away quickly when he turns around to walk back. 

“One chicken salad on a croissant with blueberry applesauce and an iced caramel latte with oat milk for Saturn,” he says, setting your tray down and you laugh and he sets his down before pulling his chair out. “And one of the exact same thing for me.”  

“Real original dad-man.” you say as you take a sip of the latte and you moan, “this is so good.” 

His breath hitches when he hears the sound and he shakes it off with a laugh, “yeah, the coffee here is the best I’ve had in the area. It’s nice that it isn’t too far from base or from home either.”

“Might just have to go a little out of my way in the morning to come here.” you say and he laughs.

“So, how did you get the nickname Saturn?” he asks as he takes a bite of his sandwich and a sad smile forms on your face.

“I got it from my dad. I don’t know why I took such a liking to the planet, but I grew up loving space. I wanted to be an astronaut, actually. He took me to our local planetarium and it was the first planet that I actually saw in the telescope and there was just something about the rings that really drew five year old me in. I wanted saturn everything. I even went as the planet for Halloween one year.” you say and he laughs.

“What were you just a yellow ball with circles around you?” he asks and you nod.

“Yeah pretty much, let me see if I have a picture.” you pull out your phone and he glances at your lock screen and sees it’s you and another girl kissing with fireworks in the background. He quickly looks away as you get into your phone, feeling an unnecessary stab to his heart. “Here it is!” you say and show him little you with a little bucket of candy, the biggest grin on your face and he laughs and takes your phone so he can look at it closer.

“You were adorable, what happened?” he teases and you make an offended noise and snatch your phone back.

“I’m still adorable! I’m just… grown now.” you say and he laughs.

You both sit there for a while longer, Jake running out to get stuff for a bottle before coming back in to see you already holding her and waiting for him to return. “You want me to feed her?” he asks and you shake your head.

“Nope. I got her.” you saw and take the bottle, she latches quickly to it and starts drinking away. “When you have me around you are doing nothing. Just relax, daddy. Let someone else take care of her.”

He feels relief at that statement, but also useless since all he’s done for the past almost month is take care of this little human that he helped to create. But watching you take care of her, so effortlessly, was so easy for him. He didn’t expect to be able to relinquish control of this aspect of his life so easily, and yet, it was almost second nature to him.

“So, are you able to start watching her on Monday? I return to duty then and-”

“Jake, it’s fine. I do nothing all day aside from helping out Penny at the bar. I would be more than happy to come and spend all day with this little baby.” you say, looking down at Avery with a smile on your face.

“I’m not, stealing you away from anyone am I? Boyfriend.. Girlfriend?” he fishes and you laugh.

“My girlfriend lives back in Vermont. She doesn’t have any plans to come visit any time soon so as of right now, the only person you and Avery are stealing time from is myself. But there’s nothing I can’t do with her that I couldn’t do by myself.” you say and he nods.

“How long have you two been together?” 

“Just over two years. We celebrated our anniversary just before I moved out here.” you say, looking back up at him and you see the look change in his eyes and you offer him a small smile.

“What about you? Any girlfriend that’s going to come out of the frameworks?” you tease and he shakes his head. 

“Nah, not really looking to date now that I have this little one to be thinking about.” he says and you nod, the conversation ending there. 

After Avery is done with her bottle you burp her and lay her back in her car seat. It’s nearing 3pm already and you have to get to the bar soon for your shift. Jake carries Avery back to the car while you run into the bathroom, splashing cool water on your face. 

You knew things were rocky with your girlfriend back home, and the last thing you ever wanted to do was get involved with your new boss, even if he was one of the most genuine and kind men you’ve ever met.

You make your way to Jake’s truck and he’s waiting for you outside, windows already rolled down so the back door can be shut and Avery won’t bake in the Californian sun. He opens your door for you again and you smile and climb up in the truck.

It’s a short drive to the bar and you hesitate getting out, you look back at him with your lip already between your teeth and you smile. “Thank you, Jake. I had a really great time.”

He returns your smile with a nod, “so did I. And I’m sure that Avery did too.” you laugh and look back at her.

“You’ll have to text me your address before Monday.” you remind him and he nods.

“I will.”

“Alright, well. Enjoy your night, dad-man.” you say, jumping out of his truck and he watches you walk into the bar, leaning his head back against his seat and letting out a deep sigh.

Of course you’re in a relationship.

------------

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[dakotakazansky]

Bright Rays & Happy Days

Description: A fun day at the amusement park with your boyfriend, ends perfectly. Pairings: Jake Seresin x NonDescript F!Reader (no Y/N, referred to as Sunshine) Warnings: Pure Fluff, a Small 18+ Mention, MINORS DNI Word Count: 3.8k

Huge Thank you to @mayhemmanaged and @thedroneranger for being my proofreaders! I adore you both!

If Jake could go back in time, he’d have probably thought twice about saying yes to going to the amusement park on such a hot and humid day but your excitement for the day was just enough to sway him the other way. Thankfully there was a water park attached to the amusement park only a short train ride away and you both could go cool off there whenever you wanted to. 

You put on your favorite swimsuit underneath a cute pair of short jean shorts, and a light breezy shirt, but also packed a backpack of all the essentials needed for the rest of the day, like sunscreen, deodorant, extra sunglasses, and a spare change of clothes for the both of you. 

Jake came down the stairs to meet you at the front door, excitedly bouncing on the balls of your feet ready to leave. You wanted to get to the park right when it opened so you could make the most of your day. 

“Hey there Sunshine!” He says pulling you into his side, placing a soft kiss on your temple. “All packed and ready to go?” He asked, although he already knew the answer to that question, but you still excitedly piped up, “I sure am babe! Park passes, spare clothing, sunscreen, towels, sunglasses.” You said listing off each item while counting them on your fingers. “You name it babe, and I’ve already got it packed in the bag.”

You both piled into the truck, and made the drive to the park. The drive there was filled with loud country music that you both sang along to with the windows rolled down, and letting the breeze of the day cool you down. The sky was a gorgeous shade of cerulean blue, and was littered with little white fluffy clouds. It was the perfect weather for a day at the amusement park, minus the humidity that was already leaving you both a little sticky.

You both arrived right as the park was opening, not a lot of people were here yet since it was a work day, that you both had taken off, just to be able to spend the day together. You both usually don’t have many days off, each of you having high demanding jobs that always have long hours. 

“So Sunshine, where do you want to start first?” Jake questions, while intertwining your fingers together after taking the backpack from you. 

“I was thinking we could browse the shops here down Main Street, but they have the water feature running and it sounds so nice! What if we just walked down next to it?”

“Whatever you want to do Sunshine!” He says happily as you begin to walk towards the long water feature that spans the entire length of Main Street in the park. Already enjoying your time, you jump up on the brick wall that acts as seating as well, and act like you’re tightrope walking along the brick wall while holding Jake's hand tightly for support.

Your happy carefree attitude has Jake falling in love with you more and more each day. He couldn’t wait for the day that he could make you his. You’d both been dating for years now, but with both of you having busy schedules, it never seemed like it was in the cards just yet, although he already has the perfect ring in mind.

Jake is so lost in thought he doesn’t notice you’d stopped walking until your hand jolts him back a bit. 

“What’s up Sunshine?” He asks trying to figure out why you stopped, and all you could do was beckon him to you with your index finger. You had noticed the park photographer wanting to snap a photo of you both, trying to meet their daily quota of photo-ops that they could then upcharge you on some package later at one of the booths. You placed your small hands on his cheeks and placed a sweet soft kiss to his lips. Right when your lips connected the photographer snapped the perfect photo. Once you broke apart, the photographer gave you a little card, that you could take to the booth later to view your photo, and purchase later. 

You nodded to the photographer, thanking them. 

“Babe, could you turn around please, I wanna slip this card into the backpack, I want to view this later!” Jake chuckled and turned around while you still stood up on the brick wall, and placed the card into the backpack. 

“Thank you!” You said excitedly jumping off the wall, and resuming your position tucked up under Jake arm, and in his side. 

“Of course Sunshine! Where to now?” He asks. 

“How about we cut through there?” You say pointing towards the path that leads to Viking Fury, the swinging boat ride. “We could ride Viking Fury when we cut through, or skip it for now, and hit it on the way back through?” You offered. 

“Whatever you want to do Sunshine, I’m fine with either.” He replied back. 

“Yeah let’s ride that first, after that we can go ride Congo Falls, to cool off, and then hit Banshee and Delirium before making our way through the rest of this side of the park.”

“Sounds like a perfect plan Sunshine!” Jake agreed while you both hopped in line for Viking Fury. You were on the ride in no time, and you clung to Jake’s side the whole time as the boat swung higher and higher back and forth, until it was over. 

“I know you fly multi-million dollar jets, and face G-forces daily, but holy smokes babe, I’ll never get over the feeling of the boat going fully around in a circle.”

Jake chuckles, “Even if that would happen, I’d never let anything happen to you Sunshine, you know that for a fact.” As you both walked down the exit ramp of the ride you both constantly bumped into each other playfully towards the fence on either side of the ramp. You both could hear the chuckles of the people behind you, and the faint whispers from them saying how cute it is to be young and in love.

You both made your way over to Congo Falls, and before getting in line, you both stood on the bridge over the ride, and wanted to see if this time the log boat would splash enough as it came down the hill to splash the bridge viewers. Looking down at the ground, you both saw it had done so recently, as the pavement below your feet was still wet, and in the process of drying out already. 

You both talked while waiting for the log boat to approach the drop hill. 

“Babe Look!” You shouted excitedly to Jake. 

“Oh it’s go time Sunshine!” Jake replies back standing up against the fence on the bridge, you were right next to him tucked up under his arm again. As the log boat traveled down the hill, it had enough weight to splash a wave so big that it completely coated the bridge above the ride. You quickly turned to bury your face in Jake’s chest, and squealed as the cold water coated you both. Jake laughed holding you to him. 

“C’mon Sunshine!” He took your hand in his again, leading you both to the line of the ride. A 10 minute wait in the line, finally had you both in the boat, and ready to splash the next set of bridge spectators. 

“Y’know, that ride doesn’t last long enough!” You huff when the ride ends, and you disembark off the log boat. 

“I know Sunshine, but we have so much more of the park to hit!” He said excitedly.

“Yeah you’re right about that.” You replied back. 

—

You both rode Congo Falls once more, before heading to Banshee, then Delirium after that. 

“Whew! After that, I think I need a break from the rides.” You said. 

“Well luckily for you we are walking up to Coney Island, how about some games? Maybe I can be the macho man that wins his girl the biggest prize.” Jake says flexing his muscles, as you giggled next to him. 

“That sounds wonderful!” You said as you both rushed off to the row of games in Coney Island. You had your pick of games, the peach buckets, water gun games, ring toss and many others. 

“Babe! Babe! Looky!” You excitedly shout, pointing towards the water gun game. “Look, it's got a Red Panda for a prize!” You jump happily, before taking off towards the game. Once you both sat down in the seat, the game attendant explained the rules of the game, and set up the two lanes for you both to play. 

“Are you ready to eat bubbles, Sunshine?!” Jake says razzing. 

“Pft! You couldn’t even keep up!” You retort back, knowing that his hand eye coordination is infinitely better than yours. “Game’s on!”

The attendant counts you down, “3…2…1…Go!” The attendant continues to rattle off the play by play, of the game to the passersby. 

Jake’s hand eye coordination really pulled through as he was in the lead, it took you a moment to find the bullseye, but you got there, and it was almost neck in neck, Jake was still in the lead though. You tried one last ditch effort and called over to Jake, he turned to look at you as you squeeze your arms against the sides of your chest while still holding the water gun, obviously trying to distract him with your cleavage but it was to no avail. 

The alarm above the water tubes went off, and you looked up to see which one was lit up. Jake cheered when he realized it was his. “Which prize do I wanna get?” He questioned. “May I have that Red Panda right there?” He points to the one you’ve had your eye on since you ran up to the game station. The attendant nods, and grabs it down, handing it to Jake. “Here you go Sunshine.” He hands you the Red Panda, and you hug it tightly, bouncing on your feet. “Thank you Babe!” You happily walk towards the next game of the afternoon, hand in hand with Jake, and hugging your red panda in the other arm. 

You both then made your way past some other games before you asked, “Babe, can I play the ring toss?”

Jake looked down at you, before slightly grimacing, “Sunshine, that game is pretty rigged, and you can absolutely play it, but don’t get your heart set on winnin’, okay?”

You nodded before skipping over to the ring toss counter and setting down five dollars for 3 rings. You tossed the first ring, and it looked like it was going to land on a bottle with a yellow cap, which meant you’d win a medium sized prize, but at the last moment it clipped off the edge of the bottle and between them. 

You tossed ring number two and got nothing but air before the putter and patter of the ring you’d tossed, hitting the glass of the bottles as it fell between them. 

Jake came up behind you and gently rubbed up and down your arms, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “It’s okay Sunshine, remember, it’s pretty well rigged for failure, just toss it carefree.” 

Carefree you thought, and did just as Jake said. You tossed the rings fully expecting it to miss yet again so you thanked the attendant and turned to walk away before the attendant yelled, “We have a winner!” You turned back around to spot the last lone ring, wrapped around the neck of the bottle with a red cap. 

“You can pick from any of these small prizes here.” The attendant said, gesturing to the many different squishmallow keychains on the racks. You did a glance over all of them before deciding on one in particular. You pointed at the one you wanted, “Could I have that one please?” The attendant agreed and handed over the keychain that you then happily turned to Jake to show him. In your hands was a very smiley Shark squishmallow keychain named Gordon. 

“Look babe! He looks just like you!” Jake chuckled before plastering that million dollar smile that would make any dentist wet and weak at the knees. You held up the smiling Shark next to your boyfriend’s face, before quickly snapping a photo of them both. You turned your phone around to Jake, “See! Looks just like you! Now I get to have you with me even when you’re gone on deployments!” Jake looked like he had tears welling up in his eyes. “I love that Sunshine.” He said, pulling you into a tight hug, before letting you go a few moments later, “What would you like to do now?” 

You pondered it for a moment, before listing off excitedly, “We definitely need to ride Adventure Express, The Racers, and the Antique Autos!”

“That sounds perfect, I'm assuming lunch after that?” Jake questioned while you nodded back to him, “Oh yes!”

You and Jake rode Adventure Express first, and both of you ended up complaining to each other how that ride is not as smooth of a ride anymore. After that you both made your way to the Racer, and chose the Red Train to ride in. You could hear the ruckus of “Red Train! Red Train!” and “Blue Train! Blue Train!” By the time that the ride ended, the Red Train did beat the Blue Train in the race back to the station. 

After that, and right before lunch you made your way to the line for the Antique Autos. You both mindlessly chatted about anything and everything you could think of until it was your turn to get into one of the cars. Of course, Jake knowing what this day was truly about let you drive the car along the track. You bumped around and had such a blast you both got back in line to do it all over again, this time you opted to be the Passenger Princess and enjoyed the peaceful ride with your boyfriend, while you looped your arm around his, and laid your head on his shoulder until the ride was over for a second time.

By the time the second trip on the Antique Autos was finished you both were sufficiently hungry enough to grab some lunch. You both made your way to the Brew House to grab two beers, and some pizza, before making your way over to Potato Works to get some of the best bacon cheese fries anyone could ever ask for. While you sat and ate your lunch you watched the Diamondback coaster, which was the tallest in the park standing at its highest point of 230 feet. You watched the train cars make their way up to the first drop of 215 feet, while the passengers on the ride shrieked as they finally went over the hill. 

Every so often the two trains that were exact scale replicas of the 1800’s The General would pass through to pick up people to take them to the waterpark or for those that just wanted a nice relaxing round trip ride around the two parks. You knew exactly what you wanted to do next, and that was to head over to the waterpark. By this time in the early afternoon the sun was at its highest point, and it was getting to be really warm, and all you wanted to do now was cool off in the pools, maybe ride a few water slides, and bask the afternoon away in a lounge chair, or in the Lazy River.

You both hopped on the train and made your way to Soak City. Once in the gate you both went immediately to find lounge chairs and laid your stuff down, before stripping down to just your swimsuits. 

“What’s first on the list to do here Sunshine?” Jake asked, getting an eyeful of you in your cute swimsuit that really really accentuated your body well. 

“How about we go spend some time in one of the wave pools?” You suggested, while Jake nodded back to you agreeing. You both picked the less busy of the wave pools and waded out together in each other's arms. Every five minutes an alarm would ring out letting you know that either the waves were starting or ending. You spent a good majority of your time together splashing in the waves, or treading water together when the waves stopped. 

After a while you wanted to take a break, but Jake wasn’t ready to leave the wave pool yet, so you got out, and went to lay down on your lounge chair, and watched Jake play around in the wave pool for a little while longer, until he decided that you should apply more sunscreen so you don't burn. He liberally applied the sunscreen to your back and body, before you did the same to him. 

All the swimming in the wave pool had made you both hungry for a snack, so you ran over to Coconut Cove to grab you both a boozy slushie drink, while Jake ran over to Island Smokehouse, to get you both a pulled pork sandwich. When you both met up again, you notice how Jake had even gotten you extra barbeque sauce for your pulled pork sandwich remembering how in conversation once you had mentioned that restaurants never put enough on the sandwich, and they were always too dry. You both ate your sandwiches and drank your boozy slushies before relaxing for a little bit longer. 

Once it had gotten later in the afternoon, you decided that to end your time at the waterpark, you wanted to spend the rest of your time in the Lazy River with Jake. Your first go around in the river you both had gotten individual floats, and held hands along the ride, as kids at various points of the ride, lined up at water cannons, to spray you both, and following riders. Your second time around, and for as long as you could, you lost count after the 3rd lap, you had both gotten a two person float and just enjoyed each other's company, although at one point Jake thought it would be funny to act like the float was tipping over. You grabbed a handful of water from the River to throw at him for that. 

The announcement came overhead that the waterpark would be closing at 7:00pm which was only 20 minutes away, so you both went and got changed back into dry clothing, and made your way back over to the train to get back to the coaster side of the park. You spent the next few hours riding as many roller coasters as you both could. Around 10:25 you both made your way to the Grand Carousel, where you rode that twice without having to get off since everyone was starting to gather in their spots on Main Street around the water fountains for the fireworks show to begin. 

“Hey Sunshine, I think we need to go get our spot for the fireworks show!” Jake said excitedly, once you both exited the carousel. 

“Okay! I’m so excited for them, they always have such a beautiful show!” You said, grabbing Jake’s hand and pulling him underneath the ⅓ scale Eiffel Tower at the end of Main Street. Before you could fully make your way out from under the tall structure, Jake stopped walking and tugged lightly at your hand. 

“Let’s head up.” He said, which left you with a bewildered look on your face. The park usually never allowed anyone up on the Eiffel Tower during the fireworks show. 

“But we can’t.” You said back to him, as he pulled you over to the elevator attendant at the base of the tower. The attendant nodded to him, and Jake said, “Seresin, party of 2.” The attendant pulled back the rope barrier and only allowed you and Jake to the elevator. You heard another guest try to join you, but was denied by the attendant, and they grumbled away as the elevator doors closed, and began to rise to the top of the Tower. 

You peered through the glass walls of the elevator and began bouncing happily on the balls of your feet. Out of all the rides here at the park, your favorite was the Eiffel Tower, because on a clear day like today, you could see as far as the eye could see. You enjoyed being able to point out all the rides in the park to Jake, and no matter how many times he heard about which ride was where, or what new spot the next ride was going to go into, he never got tired of listening to you ramble on about it. 

As you both exited the elevator, Jake nodded to you, allowing you to sprint off to the wall of the Eiffel Tower that was caged just enough to keep people in, it still allowed you great visuals beyond the gate. You started pointing out where some of your other favorite rides were, and when you turned around to make sure Jake was listening to you ramble, you were in complete shock. You slowly walked half the length of the floor back to Jake, your hands immediately flung up to cover your mouth, and your eyes welled up with tears, as you saw Jake kneeling on one knee with a gorgeous diamond ring on display, held up to you. “Sunshine, will you make me the happiest man in the world? Will you Marry Me?” He said, his voice slightly wobbly with nerves. You couldn’t even form words at the moment, so you just shook your head yes, before squeaking out a barely audible “Yes!”

Immediately Jake was off his knee, and placed the ring on your finger. You barely gave him enough time to get the ring on your finger, as you pulled him into the most passionate kiss your both could muster up, your arms wrapped around his neck, and his wrapped around your waist pulling you tightly to him. At that very moment when your lips connected to each other is when you truly felt the fireworks. Both figuratively in the kiss, but also for real, as each mortar popped in the background. Jake had timed the proposal perfectly with the start of the show. 

“Jake…” you began to say, but he cut you off, “I love you so much Sunshine.” You swatted away, the few stray tears that had fallen down your cheeks, “I love you too. Babe, this is a night I'll never forget, thank you.” You both enjoyed the rest of the fireworks show, but you were more mesmerized by the flashy ring now placed on your finger. The colors of the fireworks reflecting off the ring. It truly was a night you’ll always remember.

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