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#jake seresin au
thewulf · 27 days
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Lost and Found || Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Summary: Request - I was wondering if I could request a Jake x Reader. I was thinking a good friends situation where they were both interested in the other but didn’t want to mess up their friend group dynamic and so they never said anything. And of course they were each oblivious to the fact they were into each other,.. Read Rest Here
A/N: Ahhh sorry anon, this took forever to write as I was feeling uninspired. Turns out I just needed to watch TGM and whew! I forgot how much I love Jake Seresin and the TGM crew :) Hope you guys enjoy!
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Word Count: 4.2k +
T/W : Angsty in the beginning
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The air in Virginia was thick with the scent of saltwater and fresh possibility when you first noticed the cocky Lieutenant who was making a beeline towards you. It was a humid afternoon on the naval base, and you, a newly hired trauma surgeon, were immersed in your work, lost in the world of medical charts and patient files. And just as you were about to get up, he walked in with a cocky grin and an air of self-assurance that demanded attention. You knew the type, he had to be a pilot. They just had the air about them.
"Hey there, beautiful," he greeted you with a wink, his voice carrying across the room with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. Yeah, he was a pilot. Only they had the reassurance to be so fearless on a first interaction.
You raised an eyebrow at his boldness, unimpressed but intrigued by his approach. "Can I help you with something?" you replied, your tone cool and collected. You knew how to deal with his type. Be dismissive. Ignore them and eventually they’ll get bored enough to leave you alone.
The blonde-haired man slid into the seat opposite you, his grin never faltering as he leaned in closer. "Just couldn't resist the chance to introduce myself to the most captivating woman on base," he said smoothly, his words dripping with charm.
A chuckle escaped your lips, though you tried to suppress it. That was a new one for sure. "Flattery will get you nowhere Lieutenant," you responded, a hint of amusement in your voice.
He grinned in response, undeterred by your playful resistance. His eyes flashed down to your chest which displayed your rank and last name. "Ah, but I'm not just trying to flatter you Lieutenant Commander. I genuinely want to know the name of the woman who's been keeping me up at night," he admitted, his tone sincere but laced with playful arrogance.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his persistence. "Well, in that case, I suppose you'll have to earn it," you teased, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. For whatever reason you were having fun with this interaction. It wasn’t often you would give these Navy boys much time but there was something about him. Something that had you setting down your charts to get a good look at him.
Jake leaned back in his chair, his expression turning thoughtful. "Fair enough," he conceded, his gaze locking with yours. "I'm Jake, by the way. And you are?"
You maintained a playful smile, keeping him guessing as you decided to reveal just a fragment of yourself. "I'm a trauma surgeon," you replied cryptically, letting the mystery linger in the air. It was then that you noticed how handsome he was. Blonde, clean-cut hair and deep green eyes… who wouldn’t swoon for that?
Jake's eyebrows lifted in genuine surprise, his cocky demeanor momentarily faltering. "A trauma surgeon? Now, that's impressive," he remarked, a newfound respect coloring his tone. "Here I am, just a pilot, and you're out there saving lives and I take them."
You chuckled softly at his dark humor, appreciating the humility that so rarely came from the pilots you had known in the past. "It's not a competition," You assured him, feeling a sense of something beginning to form between the two of you. No wonder he was so cocky. He was striking and a pilot to boot? It should’ve been over then and there, but he drew you in further than you had ever intended.
Jake nodded, his gaze lingering on you with a newfound sense of admiration. "I know, but still...what you do is pretty incredible. Badass even.” he said earnestly, a genuine warmth in his voice.
As the conversation continued to flow between you, a comfortable exchange began to form, fueled by mutual respect and a shared sense of adventure. And though you kept him guessing with your playful evasions, there was a part of you that couldn't help but feel drawn to Jake – to his confidence, his charm, and the undeniable spark that crackled between you. And so, as the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the mess hall and the sounds of laughter filled the air, you found yourself fascinated by Jake, captivated by his irresistible charm and magnetic personality. Little did you know, this chance encounter would be the beginning of a friendship – and perhaps something more – that would change the course of your lives forever.
Over time, you found yourself drawn to him in ways you couldn't quite explain. Despite the demands of your respective roles on the base, you made time to see each other whenever you could – stolen moments between shifts, late-night conversations beneath the stars, stolen glances in the dimly lit corridors of the barracks. Everyone knew of the two of you. Clearly in love but too stupid to do anything about it.
But beneath the surface, there was an unspoken tension between you, a lingering sense of longing that neither of you dared to acknowledge. You were both fiercely independent individuals, committed to your careers and reluctant to jeopardize the fragile balance of your friendship with something as unpredictable as love. So, you buried your feelings beneath layers of professionalism, convincing yourself that it was better this way – safer, more practical, less likely to end in utter heartbreak. But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the spark between you refused to be extinguished, flickering to life with each passing glance, each fleeting touch.
Then, on a random Tuesday afternoon, Jake dropped a bombshell that shattered the delicate equilibrium you had worked so hard to maintain. "I'm being reassigned after this deployment," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret. "To Miramar."
As Jake's words sank in, a heavy silence enveloped the room, suffocating you with the weight of what his departure truly meant. You had been through so much together over the past three years. The highs and the lows, the laughter, and the tears. And now, faced with the prospect of his absence, you couldn't help but feel as though a piece of your heart was being torn away.
"Miramar? To Top Gun?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper, betraying the ache in your heart. You knew it was everything he had been working towards. And you knew how damn good of a pilot he was. It just surprised you how soon he was getting sent there. He must’ve been the best of the best.
Jake nodded. His expression somber. "Yeah. It's everything I’ve been working towards, but..." His voice trailed off, leaving the rest unspoken, hanging in the air like a heavy cloud of regret.
But all you could feel was a sense of loss. For the friendship you had built, for the moments you had shared, for the possibility of something more that now seemed out of reach. "I'm so happy for you, Jake. You deserve it. You deserve the whole world." You forced the words out, though they felt like shards of glass tearing at your soul. A single tear escaped your eye, tracing a silent path down your cheek.
Jake reached out, gently wiping away the tear with a look of utter despair in his eyes, as if he couldn't bear to see you cry. "I wish you could come with me," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a longing you knew mirrored your own. He grabbed for your hand joining his fingers in with yours.
Tears welled up in your eyes once more, threatening to spill over at any moment. "I know," you replied, your voice thick with unshed tears. "But I'm still in the middle of my fellowship. I can't just drop everything and leave. No matter how badly I want to." Another tear escaped as you realized what this meant. Your little bubble of happiness was going to vanish in an instant.
Jake nodded in understanding, his grip on your hand tightening as if trying to hold onto the moment for just a little while longer. "I know," he murmured, his gaze filled with a mixture of sadness and longing, mirroring the storm of emotions raging within your own heart.
Then, as if trying to lighten the mood, he flashed a small smile. "You know, I used to dream of being a Top Gun pilot when I was a kid," he confessed, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "Never thought I'd actually get the chance to fly jets like that."
You couldn't help but smile through your tears, touched by his vulnerability. "You've come a long way from your childhood dreams Jake. I knew you’d be able to do it. If anybody could, it’s you," you remarked softly, a sense of pride swelling within you despite the ache in your heart. Because he did deserve it. He may have come off as an arrogant asshole at first, but he was anything but that. He was your best friend. The man who looked out for you over himself time and time again. You loved him but you held it close to your chest. Because you did love him you had to let him go. Let him go live his dreams.
And as the reality of his departure settled over you like a dark cloud. You couldn't help but wonder how you would ever find the strength to say goodbye to him. As you sat there together, holding hands beneath the harsh fluorescent lights of the barracks, you realized that no matter where life took you, no matter how far apart you may be, the bond you shared with Jake would endure – a constant reminder of the love and friendship that had blossomed in the unlikeliest of places.
After Jake's departure, life on the base took on a different rhythm. The days stretched into weeks, and the weeks into months, each passing moment marked by the absence of his laughter, his warmth, his unwavering presence by your side. Despite the distance, you and Jake still found solace in occasional phone calls and sporadic messages, though never as often as you wished.
On an ordinary day, your world was turned upside down once again. Your commanding officer called you into his office, his expression serious as he delivered the news. "Doctor Y/L/N. I have some important news for you," he began, his tone solemn. "Due to some unforeseen circumstances, we've had to make some adjustments to our staffing plan. You're being reassigned."
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a sense of unease settling over you. "Reassigned? But I thought I was heading to Austin for my next rotation. Replacing Doctor Warmack." you replied, trying to mask the anxiety in your voice. You had plans. You were moving to Texas. You had a house picked out. A life you were planning to start. But then again, you were in the military. You should’ve expected this.
Your CO shook his head, his expression unreadable. "Plans have changed. Chula Vista is in urgent need of a trauma surgeon of your caliber," he explained, his words sending a jolt of shock through your system.
Upon hearing the news of your reassignment to Chula Vista, a whirlwind of questions surged within you. "Sir, may I ask where Chula Vista is located?" you inquired tentatively, your voice betraying a mix of curiosity and apprehension. You hadn’t heard of that base. And you could’ve sworn you knew all the potential bases you could’ve been assigned to.
Your commanding officer, a seasoned veteran with a weathered expression, glanced up from his desk, his gaze thoughtful. "Chula Vista is a city just south of here, part of the San Diego metropolitan area," he explained as he pointed to the map of the states, his tone carrying a sense of gravitas. "It's home to several military installations, including Naval Air Station North Island and Naval Base Coronado. It's also in close proximity to Marine Corps Air Station Miramar.”
The mention of North Island and Miramar sent a jolt of emotion through you, memories of Jake flooding your mind with a bittersweet intensity. "Chula Vista also supports Top Gun operations, among many other military endeavors," the CO continued, his voice steady as he provided further context.
You were heading to exactly where Jake was. A shiver of anxiety ripped through you as you processed his words. “Thank you, sir," you replied, a mixture of gratitude and anticipation swelling within you.
As you turned to leave, the weight of the news settled over you, mingling with a newfound sense of purpose. Chula Vista, a city steeped in military history, a place where your path will intersect with Jake's once more. And though uncertainty loomed on the horizon, there was a glimmer of hope shining through. The possibility of reconnecting with Jake and the chance to explore what the future held in store.
As the days passed and your departure drew nearer, you found yourself grappling with a dilemma: should you reach out to Jake before making the move to Chula Vista, or should you let fate take its course and surprise him? The months of silence between you weighed heavily on your mind, leaving you uncertain of where you stood with him. Would he be glad to hear from you, or would your sudden reappearance only complicate things further?
Part of you longed to reach out, to bridge the gap that had formed between you and reconnect before the distance between you grew even wider. But another part of you feared rejection, feared that your efforts would be met with indifference or worse… that Jake had moved on without you.
In the end, you couldn't shake the feeling that fate was leading you back to Jake, guiding you toward a reunion that was long overdue. And so, with a leap of faith, you made the decision to keep your plans a secret, to let the element of surprise be your ally. With each passing day, your anticipation grew, your excitement mingling with a touch of nervousness as you prepared for your move to Chula Vista. And as you boarded the plane bound for your new home, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held in store for you, for Jake, and for the bond that had endured despite the trials and tribulations that had threatened to tear you apart.
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The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the Hard Deck. You found yourself seated at the bar, engaged in conversation with Penny, the owner of the establishment. The ambience was relaxed, with the murmur of chatter and the clinking of glasses providing a soothing backdrop to your discussion.
Penny, a vibrant and charismatic woman with a penchant for storytelling, leaned in with genuine interest as she got to know you. "So, what brings you to the Hard Deck? I haven’t seen you around here before," she asked, a playful twinkle in her eye.
You offered her a warm smile, appreciating her genuine curiosity. "Just got here a week ago. I've heard so much about this place from my coworkers," you explained, gesturing to the bustling bar around you. "They all recommended it as the must-visit bar in Miramar."
Penny's eyes lit up at your mention of coworkers. "Ah, you must be part of the base personnel then," she observed, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips.
You nodded, a sense of camaraderie forming between you. "I am! I'm a trauma surgeon over at the hospital in Chula Vista," you confirmed.
At the mention of your role, Penny's expression shifted, her eyes widening with recognition. "Wait a minute... are you Y/N? Doctor Y/L/N?" she asked, her voice tinged with excitement.
Surprised by her sudden enthusiasm and knowing of your name, you nodded cautiously. "Yes, that's me. But how did you...?" you trailed off, curious about Penny's sudden change in demeanor. Her excitement was palpable, you could feel it in the air.
Penny beamed at you. "Oh, Jake talks about you all the time! You're one of his favorites," she revealed, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes.
A warmth spread through your chest at her words, touched by Jake's apparent fondness for you. "He does?" you asked, unable to conceal the smile that tugged at your lips.
Penny nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! He's always mentioning how talented and dedicated you are. He won’t admit it… or he doesn’t recognize it, but that man is head over heels for you, Doctor," she added with a playful wink.
You couldn't help but chuckle at Penny's teasing, feeling a flutter of anticipation as thoughts of Jake filled your mind. Little did you know, your reunion with him was just moments away, and the excitement of seeing him again filled you with a sense of joyful anticipation. Penny's mischievous grin widened as she caught sight of your reaction. "Oh, don't try to hide it, Y/N. I can see that spark in your eye," she teased, nudging you playfully.
You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a rush of nervous energy coursing through you. "Alright, you caught me," you admitted with a grin. "I'm looking forward to catching up with an old friend."
As you sat at the bar, lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the door swinging open, admitting a group of pilots. It wasn't until Penny nudged you once more and whispered excitedly that you looked up, your heart skipping a beat as you caught sight of Jake among them.
Before you could react, Jake's eyes locked onto yours, a look of sheer astonishment crossing his face. In a flash, he broke into a wide grin and dashed toward you, weaving through the crowd with purpose. You barely had time to register what was happening before Jake was upon you, pulling you into a massive bear hug that lifted you off your feet. Laughter bubbled up from deep within you as he spun you around in a whirlwind of joy and excitement, the world around you fading away as you surrendered to the moment.
"Y/N!" Jake exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine delight as he held you close, his grip on you tight and unyielding. You couldn't help but laugh along with him, feeling the warmth of his embrace enveloping you like a familiar cocoon. In that moment, it didn't matter who was watching or what anyone else thought. All that mattered was the sheer exhilaration of being reunited with Jake, of feeling his arms around you once again.
"What the hell are you doing here without telling me, Doc?" Jake exclaimed, his voice filled with mock indignation as he held you close, refusing to let you go.
You laughed, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you at the familiarity of his embrace. "Surprise?" you replied, unable to keep the grin from your face as you met his gaze.
Jake shook his head, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, consider me surprised," he admitted, his tone playful as he finally set you back down on solid ground. “I have to say, this is the best surprise I've had in a long time." As you stood there together, wrapped up in each other's arms, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Despite the years that had passed since you last saw each other, it felt as though no time had passed at all. As though you had simply picked up right where you left off.
As the warmth of your embrace lingered, Jake's eyes remained fixed on yours, a softness settling over his features as he took in the sight of you. His hand remained firmly on your shoulder, his touch comforting and reassuring.
"I've missed you, Y/N," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. "More than you'll ever know." You felt a swell of emotion rise within you at his words, the sincerity in his voice stirring something deep within your heart. Despite the distance and the time that had passed, the connection between you felt as strong as ever – a testament to the bond you shared.
Before you could respond, Jake's gaze softened even further, a flicker of determination shining in his eyes as he made a decision. Without hesitation, he reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours in a silent gesture of solidarity. "Let's catch up," he suggested, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "There's so much I want to tell you, so much I want to share."
You nodded, a smile spreading across your face at his eagerness to spend time together. "I'd love that," you replied, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of reconnecting with Jake.
As you stepped outside into the cool night air, the sound of laughter and music fading into the background, Jake turned to you, his expression earnest. "Y/N, there's something I need to say," he began, his voice tinged with nervousness.
You looked at him, curiosity piqued by his serious tone. "What is it, Jake?" you asked, concern flickering in your eyes.
Jake took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "I've thought about this moment for so long, wondering if I'd ever get the chance to tell you how I feel," he confessed, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes.
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, anticipation building within you as you waited for him to speak. "How you feel?" you prompted, unable to contain the hope in your voice.
Jake's lips curved into a tender smile, his eyes shining with sincerity. "Y/N, I've been wanting to tell you for so long, but I've been too afraid," he admitted, his voice filled with vulnerability. Before you could respond, he took a step closer, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek gently. "I want to be with you, Y/N," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "I want to make up for lost time and see where this goes."
Your heart fluttered at his words, and as you gazed into his eyes, you found yourself lost in the depths of his sincerity. His vulnerability touched you in a way you hadn't expected, and you felt a surge of affection for him that was impossible to ignore. But before you could respond, Jake took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "May I kiss you?" he asked, his voice soft but filled with determination.
Your breath caught in your throat at his question, surprised by his respect and thoughtfulness. You nodded eagerly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Please, Jake," you replied with certainty, your voice barely above a whisper. "Of course."
As Jake's lips met yours, a surge of warmth flooded through your entire body. It was as if every nerve in you ignited with a newfound energy, responding to the tender, loving touch of his kiss. Your senses were overwhelmed by the sensation of his lips against yours, soft and yielding yet filled with an undeniable passion. Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the sweetness of his embrace. His lips moved against yours with a gentle rhythm, each kiss sending sparks of electricity coursing through your veins. It was one of those kisses filled with longing and desire, a silent confession of the feelings that had been building between you for so long.
Your knees threatened to buckle beneath you as the intensity of the moment washed over you, but Jake's strong arms wrapped around you, holding you close and steady. His touch was both comforting and electrifying, grounding you in the present moment even as you felt yourself swept away by the sheer emotion of it all. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer to him as if he could never bear to let you go again. They were warm and reassuring, tracing the curves of your spine with a tenderness that left you breathless. For the first time in your life, you felt utterly and completely cherished, as if you were the most important person in the world to him. Because you were and he was determined to show you that.
As the kiss deepened, the world around you faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of you in your own private cocoon of love and desire. It was a moment you would treasure forever, a testament to the depth of the connection you shared with Jake.
When you finally pulled away, your lips still tingling from the sweetness of his, you found yourself lost in his eyes once again. As you gazed into Jake's, feeling the weight of his gaze and the depth of his love, a sense of peace washed over you. It was as if all the pieces of the puzzle had finally fallen into place, and you knew, deep in your heart, that this was where you were meant to be.
With a gentle smile, Jake pressed his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered softly, "I am never letting you go again." His words filled you with a sense of warmth and belonging, reassuring you that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. While you gazed into the depths of his soul, you knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter in your story together.
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jupitercomet · 10 months
Note
Angsty sugar daddy Jake where his ex sugar baby/girlfriend says something really mean and degrading(?) to reader
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warnings - ceo au, sugar daddy au, grumpy x sunshine trope, language, degrading language around sex work
It wasn’t a surprise to you that Jake was a bit of a playboy. Honestly, you don’t know how he couldn’t be. He didn’t really understand the point of feelings and took relationships with a grain of salt, that didn’t exactly scream Mr. Commitment. It didn’t bother you that Jake had women in his past—you’re still trying to get over the surprise that he doesn’t have other women in his present. Jake having been with other women was just a fact to you.
You just weren’t expecting them to be so mean.
Jake glances at you for what must be the fifth time. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he was uncomfortable with the current situation—and he probably is—but to you, he just looks worried. You keep your head pressed against the glass of the car window, watching the trees and cars pass with little interest. Car. Tree. Car. Car. Tree. Tree. Fast Car. Tree—
“Do you want to stop anywhere? We’re close to the Outlets.” Jake’s voice cuts through the numbed haze of it all. Just like the rest of him, it’s pointed, so it does so with ease. You know what he’s doing. It’s his emotionally distant way of trying to comfort you.
And normally it works. But right now the thought of being pampered with expensive things only makes you sick. Does Jake really think that purses and shoes are the only things that make you happy? That all you are is some airhead who’s so superficial that all she needs to perk up is a pair of diamond earrings. Does he truly think that little of you?
You bite down on your lip, keeping your eyes trained on the scenery in front of you. “No thank you.”
The car goes quiet—Jake’s driver had the mind to already raise the divider, giving you and Jake the privacy of being able to digest what just happened in the company of just yourselves. You’re not doing a great job of it, you’ve been on the verge of tears since the ignition started. And you really don’t want to cry, you did your mascara so good this morning. 
“She didn’t—” Jake clears his throat, his voice coming out more confident. “She didn’t mean that.”
“Yes, she did.”
You hardly register your voice as your own, it sounds far too hollow and dejected. You look down at your freshly manicured nails with an almost contempt. Jake had paid for those nails. He surprised you with it suddenly, transferring the money to your bank account with a small note to have fun. He said he liked them when you came home and showed him.
Jake sighs heavily and you can imagine that this is probably the last thing he wants to be doing. Today was supposed to be his day off and now he’s trying to stop you from crying in the back of a Bentely.  “She was mad at me. Not you. She just wanted to embarrass me.”
“Right.” Tears well up in your eyes and you will yourself not to cry. Because it would be embarrassing to Jake - if you were a gold-digging slut with no self respect. To be seen with someone like that would be embarrassing.
“That’s not what I— I mean, she was upset to see us at a restaurant—”
Her eyes hold an animosity you’ve never seen before, especially not in someone you’ve never even met before. She sneers, snatching her purse between bright red acrylic nails. “You’re pathetic.” She spits the words laced in venom in your direction. “Does it make you feel special or something? Whoring yourself out to a bunch of guys that will never actually love you?”
Jake takes a step forward but his ex fling—as you’ve pieced together—just laughs. “Oh, by all means, Jake, please tell me why this gold-digging slut is good enough to be seen in public with you, but I wasn’t.”
“You’re causing a scene.” Jake’s jaw ticks.
His ex fling lets her mouth drop incredulously. “That’s all you have to say? You—” Her fury comes on suddenly and, all at once there’s a cup of water in her hand and then its contents all over Jake’s front. “God, I forgot you were such a fucking dickhead! Have fun with your whore then, I’d get tested if I were you.”
You sniff, interrupting Jake mid-explanation. “I have feelings.”
Jake freezes, features only slightly confused. “What?”
“I have feelings,” you repeat. “I feel like people forget that sometimes.”
“Look—”
“And I don’t know how to make them remember.” The haze returns and you go back to looking out the window. Car. Tree. Tree. Car. Car.
You can feel Jake staring at you, but you refuse to meet his gaze. You think that he might say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls his phone out from his slacks pocket and starts looking over emails. You think it might almost be symbolic in a way - you, looking out the window, and Jake, looking at his emails.
It only takes a bit more of car and tree counting for your eyes to droop, the steady movement of the car lulling you to sleep.
Jake looks up from his phone when your hand slips slightly and it catches his attention and he takes in the fact that you’re sleeping peacefully against his car door with a slight frown. You’ll get a crick in your neck in that position. He doesn’t have time to worry about resituating you though, as the car comes to a stop outside of his apartment building.
Jake moves to wake you up, but hesitates. Your lashes are dancing across your cheeks, your lips slightly parted as you breathe softly. The dress he bought for you has curled up your thighs, the seam stretching as it wraps around your legs.
He lets his hand drop, getting out of the car and then carefully opening your door. You shift slightly, but don’t stir more than that as Jake picks you up from the leather seat. Your cheek rests against his still slightly damp button up. Your makeup will probably sparkle against the white when Jake sets you down, but right now he doesn’t mind.
“Mr. Seresin.” The voice of his driver stills Jake in his tracks. “Should I inform Ms. Trace that you’ll still be accompanying her for dinner?”
Jake opens his mouth to confirm, but you murmur against his chest and his eyes are drawn back to you. He pauses. “No, um… Tell her something came up.”
Jake misses his driver’s knowing smile as he takes you inside. You almost wake up on the elevator ride to his penthouse, but somehow Jake’s able to coax you back to sleep. This is the longest Jake has ever been thoughtful and he doesn’t even know what he’s doing when he sets you down on his bed and changes you into one of his shirts.
Jake doesn’t really know where your makeup remover is—and doesn’t really want to look for it—so he just wets a washcloth with water and hopes that does the trick. You always complain about sleeping with your makeup on.
“Jake?” You whisper drowsily when the cool water raises you from sleep.
Jake shushes you softly, pulling the cloth from your face and surveying it to make sure he didn’t miss any of your makeup. That’s all it takes for you to be pulled under the lulling waves of sleep again and Jake gets up from the bed quietly, placing the dirty washcloth in the bathroom. 
He locks eyes with himself in the sink mirror, his damp shirt and strands of hair that are still drying. Undoing the buttons of his shirt, Jake shakes off his reflection and grabs some comfortable clothes of his own. The events of today are playing through his head, but they almost don’t feel real. Like they’re part of some movie he watched instead of his actual life. 
Uncharacteristically, Jake decides that he’ll pick his clothes up later, leaving them on the floor as he pads to the bed. You’ve rolled onto your side now, chest rising and falling under his silk sheets. Jake gets comfortable, only able to stare at you for several seconds.
Hesitantly, his hand comes out to trace your features with a feather light touch. He props his head up on his other elbow, watching intently as he traces over your cheekbones, nose, and eyebrows. You relax into his touch subconsciously and Jake shifts closer, moving his hand from your face to your hip. He drops a kiss to your forehead, pulling you closer to his chest. 
Burrowing his face in your hairline, and breathing in your honey shampoo, Jake starts to whisper all the things he wanted to tell you today.
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tongue-like-a-razor · 11 months
Text
Brother's Best Friend - Part 4
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
A/N: Did I write an angstier version of this chapter and then rewrite the last half entirely because y'all deserve a fluffy read? Yes, yes I did. Thank you for all your wonderful ideas! I've got them all lined up for future chapters hehehe So don't be blaming me for the heartache you're inflicting upon yourselves XD Muah!
Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.
CW: Swearing, suggestive language, protective Jake
WC: 2000+
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist
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“You have a what?” Jake exclaims, nearly choking on his coffee.
“A date,” you repeat, smiling giddily at both him and Bradley. “We met at pub night last week and we’ve been texting.”
“Texting?” Jake raises his eyebrows skeptically. He looks over at Bradley as though he expects him to express an opinion, but Bradley just rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
“Be careful,” your brother says, returning his attention to the plate of scrambled eggs before him.
You snort. “In what way?”
“In all ways,” Jake chimes in, clearly annoyed that Bradley has nothing else to add. “Guys are dicks so keep your guard up.”
You give Jake a humorous look. “Not all guys,” you say.
Jake nods at you. “All guys.”
You shake your head with a laugh. “This isn’t my first date, Jake.”
“Just work under the assumption that all guys are dicks, alright?” he says. “That way, when he turns out to be a dick, you won’t be shocked.”
You set down the jar of jam you’re holding and let out a sigh. Since the incident with couch girl, Jake has gone out with three different women, which, to be fair, is normal for him. Still, you’re just about done pining over your brother’s best friend, whose signals you’ve clearly misread. If guys are dicks, then Jake Seresin is exhibit A. “He’s actually super sweet,” you say, taking your toast out of the toaster.
“Don’t be fooled,” Jake mutters.
Bradley grimaces as he looks up at you. “He’s not wrong.”
“I have dated plenty of nice guys,” you say. “Just because the two of you are assholes to women, doesn’t mean all men are.”
Bradley claps a hand to his chest. “Me?” he cries in disbelief.
Jake puckers his lips and gives you a sheepish grin without disputing your claim.
“I’m not going into this with your negative energy,” you say, waving your arms at the two of them. “Because maybe he’s nothing like you.”
“One could hope.” Jake shrugs.
Bradley eyes him dubiously. “Just be careful,” he repeats.
“Don’t worry, it’s just dinner and a movie,” you say, bringing your breakfast to the table.
“What movie are you going to go see?” Jake asks.
“I don’t know,” you reply. “We’re going back to his place so probably something on Netflix.”
Jake sets down his fork and knife and stares at you. “You’re going where?”
You ignore Jake’s outburst and take a bite out of your toast. “I’ll be home late,” you say, mostly to Bradley. “So, don’t wait up.”
Jake stares at you. “You can’t just go to some random dude’s home,” he says.
You cock your head at him inquisitively. “Interesting advice coming from someone who brings home random girls almost daily.”
Jake presses his lips together and exhales moodily. “That’s different.”
Bradley smirks, eyeing him expectantly.
“How?” you ask.
Jake rises from his seat and lifts his coffee cup. “Do whatever you want,” he says. “Bradshaw, let’s go, we’re gonna be late.”
Bradley gives you a resigned sort of look and shoves one last piece of toast into his mouth. “I’m driving,” he says with his mouth full.
“You better not be blocking me in!” you yell at their backs as they head for the front door.
That night, your date drops you off at the end of your driveway, leaning in for a kiss before you exit his car. You give him a quick peck and a tight smile before stepping out of the vehicle, knowing that, despite the evening having been pleasant enough, you’re probably not going to pursue the relationship further.
He asks about seeing you later in the week and you peek back through his car window and respond with a polite maybe because perhaps the guy deserves another chance. You walk up to the porch as he drives away, and then try the door before searching for your keys in the dark.
The door is unlocked, so you walk in, flicking on the light, and the first thing you see is Jake as he steps away from the window facing the driveway and places his hands on his hips.
“He didn’t want to walk you to the door?” he asks sternly.
You grimace at him. “Why are you here?”
“Bradley had to stay late tonight so I came to make sure you got home alright.”
You blink at him coolly. “And that involves spying on me?”
“If I were spying on you, you wouldn’t know about it,” Jake retorts, starting for the kitchen. “You hungry?”
“I just came from dinner,” you remind him, taking off your heels.
You follow him into the kitchen, dropping your purse on the floor as you go. You’re suddenly feeling extremely tired. Jake opens the refrigerator and starts taking out ingredients for a meal while you walk past him and land on the couch in the living room. Jake cranes his neck to look at you over the island. “I’m making spaghetti,” he calls.
“Knock yourself out,” you reply, closing your eyes.
You hear Jake step around the island and enter the living room, and then you feel the depression of the couch as he plants himself down by your feet. You open your eyes again. “Yes?” you say.
Jake watches you blankly for a second before finally blurting out, “How’d it go?”
You furrow your eyebrows, still confused by his interest in your dating life. You pull your knees up so that your feet don’t keep sliding into him and pretend like you aren’t at all intrigued by his question. “Fine,” you respond nonchalantly.
Jake nods although he doesn’t look entirely satisfied with your answer. “Still think he’s nice?”
You eye him wryly. “Very.”
Jake raises his eyebrows. “Too nice?”
You make a face at him. “What’s too nice?”
Jake shrugs. “Boring.”
You give him a flat look. “This perspective explains so much,” you say, pointing at him reproachfully.
Jake laughs. “Girls don’t like nice guys.”
“I like nice guys!” you exclaim, sitting up with renewed energy.
Jake eyes you skeptically. “Sure, you do.” His gaze sweeps over your face in a slightly provocative manner and you get the sense again that he might be into you. And this possibility sends a rush through your body that makes your head spin. However, you remind yourself that, if this were, in fact, the case, Jake wouldn’t be going out and sleeping with a new woman every other night, because that would be counterintuitive. Besides, you are getting over him, anyway. You are well on your way to recovery.
You shake your head at him and lean your back into the armrest of the couch.
“You dressed up for him,” he notes, meeting your gaze as you glance up at him.
“Would you rather I undressed for him?” you ask pointedly.
Jake blinks at you uncomfortably. He looks like he might be sick. “Don’t joke about that,” he says, rubbing his forehead anxiously.
“You started it.”
“I just meant ” – he sighs without looking at you – “I just meant, you look good.”
“Then just say that,” you retort. “Without being a dick about it.”
He turns to look at you with an apologetic sort of cringe contorting his features. “Guess I’m not a ‘nice’ guy,” he mutters, complete with air quotes.
You stare at him, wondering if he’s hinting at something. You kick him in the leg with your foot. “Don’t be weird.”
He chuckles. “Come on,” he says, rising from the couch. “Let’s eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“But I want company,” he says with a slight whine, bending forward to grab your wrists and pull you up off the couch.
You let him lift you to your feet, your body crashing briefly into his while you find your balance. Jake releases you instantly and takes a step back, holding his hands up as though he doesn’t want to be held responsible for initiating the contact.
“Sorry,” he mutters quickly.
You give him a look. “I said, don't be weird, Jake.”
Three weeks later, you’re sitting with Jake on a patio, waiting for Bradley to bring the three of you drinks from the bar.
“Can I ask you a question?” you say tentatively, making sure that Bradley is still inside the pub.
“Shoot,” Jake responds, downing the last of his beer.
“It’s about my boyfriend,” you say.
Jake cringes. “He’s your boyfriend now?”
You shrug. “I mean, I guess. We haven’t really formally established our relationship status.”
Jake nods. “And you want out?”
“What? No!”
“What’s the question, then?” Jake raises his eyebrows.
“It’s about the sex,” you say, stirring your drink with your straw to avoid looking at him.
“The what?” Jake exclaims, reaching for his empty glass of beer and bringing it to his mouth before realizing there is nothing left.
You clear your throat and glance up at him, slightly mortified. “It’s… it’s good, it’s just” –
“Woah, woah, woah!” he shouts, leaping up from his seat as though your words have burned him. “I don’t want to hear about that!”
You give him a flat look. “Jake, I literally found you naked on my couch last month. The least you could do is give me some guidance.”
Jake squirms. “I’m not – I can’t,” he stammers. “I don’t think I can listen to this.”
“Why not?!”
Jake lets out a dramatic moan. “Why don’t you ask your brother?”
“For advice on my sex life?” you hiss.
“Don’t you have friends?” Jake asks, dropping back into his seat.
“I need a guy’s opinion.”
Jake lets out an irritable sigh and gives his head a slight shake to indicate that he’s still not on board with this turn of events. “Don’t you have guy friends?”
You nod. “I do. And you’re one of them. Are you not?”
Jake stares at you defeatedly. “How detailed is this going to get?”
You glance over your shoulder to check on the crowd of people waiting for drinks at the bar, looking for your brother. You spot him nowhere near the counter, chatting up a stunning brunette, and resolve that you have at least fifteen minutes alone with Jake. You turn back to him and say, “That depends on how helpful you want to be.”
Jake whimpers. “I have no alcohol left.”
You roll your eyes. “Have mine,” you say, sliding your cocktail across the bistro table.
Jake takes the glass from you, his hand wrapping momentarily around yours before you let go. “Okay,” he says, taking a big gulp. “I’m ready.”
“Okay,” you say with a hesitant sigh. “So, the thing is, he really wants to try” –
“Nope, no, nuh-uh,” Jake says, shaking his head. “I don’t want to know.” He buries his face in his hands.
“Dude, I need your help!”
“You want my advice? Here it is,” he says, leaning into the table so suddenly that you jerk backward just to prevent a collision between your two faces. “Doesn’t matter what he wants to try if you’re not comfortable with it.”
“But it’s” –
Jake holds up a hand. “I don’t care what it is. If you’re sittin’ here talkin’ to me about it, it means you don’t want to do it.”
You stare at him, wondering when Jake Seresin had the opportunity to amass such profound wisdom. You furrow your eyebrows. “Even if it’s, like, supposedly a normal thing people do?”
Jake hooks his eyebrow; you’ve piqued his interest. “That’s what he told you?”
You nod slowly.
Jake lets out a long, heavy breath through his nose, his lips pressed tightly together as his jaw clenches. He studies your face with a look of concern. “You tell that asshole that the next time he pressures you into doing anything, he’s going to have to deal with me.” Jake takes another swig of your cocktail and then adds, “And your brother, of course.”
You grimace. “He’s not pressuring me. It just… was brought to my attention that there is a particular thing that we could be doing – that many people do – that we’re not currently doing – that… ugh, it would be so much easier if you just let me tell you what the thing is!”
Jake places a hand on your knee. “If you tell me what the thing is, I might hurl.” You groan in frustration while Jake pats your leg sympathetically. He shakes his head. “I knew this guy was gonna be a dick.”
Read Part 5
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of-many-aus · 1 year
Text
Why Jake calls you ‘Angel’
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Summary: there’s always an origin story to a nickname, this one is yours
Warnings: none
A/N: let me know what you think of this series so far :)
Take Me Out to the Ball Game Masterlist
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.
This was stupid. You had no idea why you had even let Natasha talk you into this, she knew this wasn’t your thing.
The noise was deafening with everyone screaming at the top of their lungs. Cheers and boos for this team or that.
Bodies rammed into one another as they jumped up and down, supporting their respective teams that were made up of either a sky blue, or a crimson red.
“You have to get to know him,” Nat chatted your ear off above all the yells, keeping your arms linked tightly as you wove back and forth in the crowd, “He’s your roommate, and you hardly know a thing about him.”
“Yeah,” You snapped back, shooting her a small glare, “Maybe he’s a serial killer. How does that feel, Nat? You could very well be the person who pressured me into accepting a living situation with a murderer.”
She rolled her eyes, long since used to your dramatic antics, “A cute murderer.” Your best friend flashed you a grin.
You rolled your eyes sarcastically, “Well, what he lacks in personality, I suppose he makes up for in looks.”
“Exactly!” She cheered, finally pushing through a clearing and towards seemingly the only two empty seats in the whole stadium, not giving you the chance to open your mouth and snap back about being sarcastic. She knew very well that you were.
It had been about two weeks since you and the star of your college's baseball team, Jake Seresin, had made a temporary arrangement of moving into an apartment together. And the two of you had been walking on eggshells around each other, which Natasha Trace never failed to throw in your face.
Honestly, you were more than fine keeping it that way. The less you were forced to talk to the cocky, ego driven athlete, the better.
Your best friend, on the other hand, seemed to think that it was fate that the two of you were thrown into the same living establishment. And apparently, it was an opportunity not to be passed up. Now, you had been dragged to his team's second game of the season. Evidently, missing his first one was some sort of crime in Natasha’s eyes and you now had to make up for it.
What did it matter anyway? He didn’t even know that you were here, and honestly, you hoped that it stayed that way. You didn’t need him thinking something other than the simple fact that you were dragged here, fighting tooth and nail to get away. But it was useless, Nat was impossible to stop when she put her mind to something.
Of course, the only seats available had to be in the very front row, just to the right of home plate.
The game had already started by the time you two sat down, and Jake's team was getting absolutely demolished.
No wonder all the other spectators were getting rowdy so quickly. Your school was trying to urge the team into coming back, and the other school was trying to keep their team up. The score was 1-6 and it was only the second inning.
Jakes team was up at bat, more specifically, a man you recognized to be Reuben Fitch, who was in your science class, at the plate, bat up and at the ready. According to the scoreboard, there was already one out, two pitches thrown, and nobody on the bases.
The pitcher from the other team glared against the sun as he wound his arm back, ready to release the ball. And when he so, it hooked in such a way that poor Reuben didn’t stand a chance of hitting it.
You felt a pang of pity in your heart for him, he had always been friendly to you, and watching his lips move in the shape of a curse and shaking his head in disappointment at himself made you sad to see. He made his way back to the dug out with a head hung low, not even reacting when Pete Mitchell, the coach, clapped him on the back in reassurance when he shuffled past him.
A frown pulled at your lips, “This is just sad,” You commented, “You picked the absolute worst day to force me to come and see a game.”
Natasha rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to rebuttal, only to snap it shut when her eyes locked onto something behind you. A smirk slowly made its way onto her face, “Or maybe not.”
With furrowed eyebrows, you turned in your seat to see what she was looking at, only to lock eyes on a jersey you had grown accustomed to seeing thrown lazily around your apartment- along with other pieces of gear he never bothered to pick up- making it’s way towards you.
Jake was up at bat.
There was a determined aura about him, you could tell from the way his eyes stayed trained on the pitchers mound and from the way his jaw was set and shoulders were in a ridged square.
High pitched squeals erupted from behind you in a way that made you cringe at the sudden noise.
“It’s Jake!”
“He looks so hot.”
“He was totally checking me out earlier.”
You rolled your eyes at the group of girls behind you, babbling like a bunch of teenagers at the mall, and crossed your arms over your chest.
Natasha was looking over at you with a smirk that had morphed into a knowing one.
“What?” You snapped.
Her grin only widened, “Nothing, nothing.” She murmured, turning her attention back to the game.
After allowing your eyes to linger suspiciously on her for another moment, you tore them away from her and too looked to where Jake was now winding up to bat.
The pitcher threw the next one faster than he had moments ago, and it headed straight for the blond man.
Your heart jumped to your throat and your arms unconsciously loosened, falling to your sides as you leaned forward.
Jake jumped backwards out of the way just in time, the ball narrowly missing his stomach in the process.
Shouts of protest came from all over the stadium, cursing out the pitcher for trying to take out the star player.
A breath slipped through your lips and you felt the muscles in your shoulders loosen. Why they were even tense in the first place, you didn’t know.
Seresin let out a huff, taking a step back from the plate to give himself a moment to collect himself, and his gaze unconsciously swept over the crowd.
Bright green eyes locked onto yours before you could even think about looking away and trying to hide yourself.
Jake stilled.
All of the sounds seemed to drown out around you. Neither of you let up your stares, no matter how much as you knew you should.
Then, the corner of his lips quirked up the tiniest bit, and he threw a wink in your direction before turning back to the plate and stepping up once more.
One of the girls squealed from behind you, “Did you see that? Did you? Did you? He winked at me!”
You barely even heard her, eyes still yet to leave Jakes tall form.
“What was that all about?” You could hear the grin in her voice as Natasha whispered to you.
Not an answer came out of you though. You were too transfixed in the game.
When the ball came at him again, he was ready, and he hit it out of the park. Literally.
Again, it seemed like almost every person in the stadium began screaming at the top of their lungs. Whether it was from anger or pure joy at the home run the man had just hit.
Somehow, you had joined in with them, clapping as loudly as you could and cheering.
Jake threw one glance to you over his shoulder before taking a jog around the bases, a grin of victory playing on his lips.
It only went uphill from there.
Somehow, when put in the outfield, every single ball went Jake's way, and he caught each and every one of them. Then each time he came up to bat, he would get at least one other person home.
There was a reason he was the star player.
By the end, the score was 12-6, and your throat was raw from all the screaming you had done, as well as most likely every other person in the audience.
“Well?” You finally tore your eyes away from the field at your best friend's voice, “Worth coming?”
You hid a grin and tried to shrug nonchalantly, “I suppose.”
She laughed loudly, linking your arms together and beginning to lead you into the slowly dispersing crowd.
The two of you chatted all the way back to the row of cars, when a voice calling out your name made you both stop and turn.
Jake jogged after the two of you, baseball gear bag slung over one shoulder.
The group of girls that had been obnoxious behind you for the entire game now stood a few yards away with dropped jaws that soon turned into sneers.
Your roommate paid them no mind though, as he came to a stop in front of you, slightly breathless as if he had run all the way from the dugout to catch up with you.
“Hi,” You breathed out in surprise, eyebrows raised.
He grinned that blinding, award winning smile of his, “You came to my game.”
“Oh yeah,” Natasha piped up, nodding excitedly from beside you, “She practically dragged me here.”
Your head snapped into her direction and your eyes widened for a brief second before you began glaring daggers at her, “I did not-“
“I’m glad you came.”
The gentleness of his tone made your mouth snap shut and your attention turn to him once more.
“We were losing, bad, but then you showed up, and we suddenly won again.” He was yet to drop his grin.
You shook your head, “That wasn’t me-“
“Sure it was,” He laughed lightly, “You’re like my own guardian angel.”
You rolled your eyes, “Don’t call me that.”
If it was even possible, his grin seemed to widen, “Why not? I think it’s fitting.”
A scoff left your lips, and whatever weird haze you had been in during the game finally shook off, “Don’t you dare.” You warned.
“Hangman!” Bradley Bradshaw called from a couple paces away, waving the man down, “Come on! The boys are going out to celebrate!”
“Be right there!” The blond called back before winking at you once more, “See you at home, Angel.”
With that, he jogged off, leaving you in a speechless state that was so unlike you.
Nat moved to stand in front of you, wiggling her eyebrows.
You hesitated before softly shoving her, “Shut up.” You mumbled, turning to make your way to the car.
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sunlightmurdock · 7 months
Text
Like This Forever | J. Seresin
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“She’s gonna marry that boy someday.” Mary-Lynn Seresin had huffed with a wistful smile, watching the mud-caked children tear off through the field once again. This time, with sticks in hands and violent intent plastered across their dirty faces.
Being Jake’s tour manager had been a dream come true. Your childhood best friend, the first boy you ever loved — seeing his own dreams come true, the crowds screaming his name. It had all been so perfect.
Until those faint pink lines had shown up right before Jake’s six month long North American tour had kicked off. Those nights sneaking around are long gone. Now, Jake’s singing about you to a packed stadium, while you stand off-stage with tear-stained cheeks.
Warnings: accidental pregnancy, childhood friends to lovers, country singer!Jake, smut, pining, blissful ignorance, other warnings to follow. (18+ minors do not interact)
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Jake’s Setlist | Jake’s Family
Taglist Form
One — Introducing the small town of Driftwood, TX, on a Sunday morning in 1974. Spilling into that important evening in February 1991. Driftwood, Texas.
Two — The start of it all. That night. Six weeks later, the first night of Jake’s tour. Driftwood, TX / New Mexico.
Three — Pregnancy isn’t at all what you had thought it would be. New Mexico / Colorado.
Four — Your mind is made up. Jake has a lot of thoughts about that. Colorado.
*More to follow*
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seresinhangmanjake · 18 days
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Stolen Angel
Demon!Jake Seresin x Reader
Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he's a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.
Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Descriptions of blood and pain. Obsessive behavior. Eventual fluff and smut. I'm sure there are typos. This is part 1 of a mini-series. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it's fine. I wrote that one too.
Words: 1600
Part 2, Part 3
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You didn’t believe in fate. You didn’t believe your life was predestined or anyone else’s to play with. It was yours alone. Yours to lead, to control, to make choices, good or bad. Only you decided when you did things and where you did them, and no one could have convinced you otherwise. But then you met him. He who showed you how wrong you were. 
When you think of the moment you saw him enter the club where you worked, remembering the way your eyes met the minute his body was clear of the door, you could laugh at everything you once believed about controlling your own destiny. The building would’ve been pitch black if not for the blue and purple strobe lights; you could hardly see the patrons in front of you as they shouted their drink orders, and yet, from the opposite side of the massive room, he was in clear view. Your lips had parted to suck in a breath when he smirked, and it was that slight quirk of his lips that had you forgetting yourself. You were instantly drawn to him as if there was a string tied between you that slowly shortened as the night went on. 
In hindsight, it should have been so damn obvious, or would have been had you known it was possible for someone to control you the way he did. You weren’t yourself when he approached you. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him without having spoken a single word to him. You took him home without knowing his name. But now that whatever power he had over you has worn off, you see that night for what it really was. A trick. A manipulated encounter. He had his sights set on you, and a one-night stand was never going to be a one-night stand. What it was, was an animal finally claiming the prey he’d been stalking for god knows how long. 
It’s the third day. Third of eight. 
Jake promised the pain would subside as the days passed—that you’ll get used to it; adapt—but to your great and utter shock, he has once again proven to be a liar. Every few hours, the wings rip your skin wider to accommodate their size as they grow and push for freedom from your body. At three days, they’re the span of a couple of feet, a few feathers shining opalescent in a slim ray of the sun. 
As you lay on your stomach, your body is still except for the shallow breaths that occasionally cause you to quiver. With the bloodied wings draped over your back, you try to understand the depth of the pain; how it is able to hurt the way it does. The feeling doesn’t compare to anything you’ve experienced. So different, so unnatural and indescribably excruciating. It’s a merciless pain. All-consuming. It swallows you rather than localize where the skin of your back is shredding open. 
“Just a few more days,” Jake says. 
You flinch at his voice. Each time he speaks you’re shocked he has remained at your side, his massive black wings hanging over the back of the chair he sits in as he watches you. Those monstrosities weren’t attached to his muscled back when you met him; nowhere in sight when he was in your bed.
With a cool cloth, Jake dabs at your broken and bleeding skin, eliciting little whimpers from your chapped lips. “I know it hurts, Angel,” he says. 
“Don’t–” you force out despite the fire in your throat and the wave of nausea that follows. “Don’t c-call me that.”
He sighs and continues to wipe the bloody flesh of your naked form. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that. When it’s over, you will feel so much better about all of this, and about me. You’re gorgeous already, and the wings will only add to your beauty. You’ll thank me.”
“I di-didn’t want–”
“Don’t talk, Angel,” he tells you. His tone is gentle, but there’s an underlying command to his words. “I know it’s confusing, but anyone who crosses into my world has to grow wings. This has to happen so you can be with me.”
You let out a sudden scream as the wings tear you open a few more centimeters. Jake quickly scoots his chair closer to the bed to brush the damp hair from your face. He softly shushes you before leaning down and placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. You would slap him, push him away if you had the strength, but you can’t move. Your lungs are tightening, body burning as if licked by the sun. 
At first, you didn't understand what was happening to you, but now you know exactly what this is. You’re dying, morphing into a horrid creature from fantasies and leaving behind all traces of humanity. In your veins, you feel something foreign coursing and altering your DNA. You’re pretty sure you still look like you, for the most part, but you aren’t you. Not anymore. This man—practically a stranger—is turning you into a beast.
It’s five more nights of torture before you’re able to properly inhale and exhale, but even so, the air around you is just as foreign as the pain you had trudged through. It tastes…off, and you find little comfort in it being your source of oxygen. 
“You’re awake.”
His smooth voice draws your eyes away from the scenery outside of the one window in the room. Your first true glimpse of this world since he brought you here, and it’s a stunning sight of lush rolling hills and fields of blooming flowers under a plane of blue sky. It reminds you of home before you moved to the city. So much so that you’re convinced it’s an illusion crafted by devilish fingers for your comfort, not unlike his beauty. 
You hate how he looks. Golden hair, mossy eyes, and those black-as-night wings that you saw for the first time when they’d suddenly appeared after you’d slept together. Right before he drugged and stole you. 
“And you’re standing already,” he continues. “I hoped to come help you, but you’re clearly much stronger than I was after I grew my wings.” 
Your irises flash with a burst of anger before you tear them away from his, back to the hills whose grass sways in the breeze. You unintentionally let that breeze, along with the chirp of a bird and the glisten of the sun off of a small lake, distract you from Jake’s approach. You freeze at his breath brushing your ear, and when he slips his rough fingers through the layers of your shimmering feathers, you struggle to contain the shiver that shoots down your spine. You hear the ruffling of his own feathers as he touches his creation. 
“So beautiful,” he whispers. 
You scoff. “I’m glad you’re proud of your work.”
Jake lets out a puff of air, a weak laugh. “My work? Angel, this was all you. I knew they would be beautiful simply because they are a part of you, but you far surpassed my expectations. You should be proud.”
Whipping around, you meet him chest to chest, eyes burning with an intensity that crashes into his. “I should be proud?” you growl. “You forced this on me.”
“And you survived. Not many can say the same. You’ve come out stronger.” His hand trails through your feathers again. This time, you fight off the tingles.
“I’ve come out of this wanting to kill you even more,” you say, tucking the wing behind you so it’s out of his reach. 
If he heard you, it doesn’t show. Or maybe he refuses to acknowledge what he doesn’t want to hear. Either way, he doesn't respond. Instead, his gaze falls to your lips and he carefully cups your chin between his fingers. His face inches closer and closer, but before his lips can meet yours, you plant your hands firmly on his chest and shove hard. 
Jake stumbles back with a chuckle. “Definitely stronger.”
“I’m not going to let you kiss me,” you snap. 
“Not today, it would seem.”
“Not ever again!” 
Though you’re seething with hatred, those words taste sour on your tongue, each one more so than the last. They feel wrong, like some part of your mind is disappointed in you for speaking them, for denying his kiss and pushing him away, but you tamp it down. You’re just overwhelmed as your brain struggles to adjust to the situation. That explains it. 
“You will come around, Angel,” he says, crossing his arms. “You and I have eternity. One day you will wake up and realize that I am all you have. I will be all that you want, and this memory of pain will be long lost. All you will know is me and my touch and our world. We will be happy, I promise.”
As he speaks his eyes hold a delicate sincerity that you wish wasn’t there. You wish the green of them wasn’t so powerfully conveying his feelings. 
You shake your head. “You’re a monster.”
Jake calmly steps back into your space, catching you off guard as he looms over you. You keep his stare, even with your back pressed into the wall, wings spread against the stone. 
“You may breathe your sweet words all you like, Angel. It changes nothing,” he says, running a knuckle down your cheek. “If I am a monster, I am your monster, and I am not going anywhere.” His lips peel back in a smile. “Luckily for me, neither are you.”
tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw
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topguncortez · 29 days
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Slap Shot || Prologue
a Jake Seresin AU
previous part | masterlist | next part
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synopsis: the first night out in a long time, and it just so happens to be one of the biggest weekends in the Hockey season. A certain blonde hair cowboy makes his charm on you.
word count: 1.7k
warnings: mentions of grief, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of "locker room talk", puck bunnies, mentions of cheating, PDA, making out, allusions of sex.
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This wasn’t like you. 
You weren’t the type who went out wearing one of the shortest and tightest black dresses you own, killer heels on your feet, your hair curled in big blown out-waves, makeup done and a bright bold red on your lips. You weren’t the type to sit at the bar, twirling the straw around in your drink and flirting with guys whose names you didn’t bother to ask for or learn. And you definitely weren’t the type to actively look for and plan to go home with one of those guys. 
But tonight was different. 
Maybe it was because for the first time in a long time, you felt the weight of the world had been finally lifted off your shoulders. Grief was such a weird thing. You knew that long ago, but it had been a while since you were met with the process. The first time you went through the grieving process, it had come on so suddenly, you weren’t sure how to handle it. This time, you had years to prepare for it. Once you hit that final phase of acceptance, you felt like you could breathe again. And you had a new outlook on your life and you were ready to take charge of it. 
Or maybe it was because the bar was crawling with hockey players. 
It was All-Star weekend, and the best of the best NHL players were in town to show off their skills. The bar you were currently sitting in was crawling with them. Some were trying to enjoy probably their first night off in weeks, others looking for a puck bunny (or two) to take back with them, and some fell in the middle. 
You sighed as you looked down at your drink, swirling around the melting ice with your straw. The confidence you had felt earlier when you first put on this dress was starting to fade, and the insecurities started creeping in. You weren’t entirely sure what you thought was going to happen when you strolled into this bar. You could count on one hand all the one-stands you have had in your entire life (the answer was one and that one ended up becoming a long term boyfriend). Also, you had a thing about not hooking up with hockey players. You had been surrounded by them your whole life. There was something about hearing the locker room talk the day after a win that made you want to stay as far away from hooking up with one as humanly possible. Even if a hockey player was the last man on the planet, you would weigh the pros and cons of reproduction or killing off the human race. 
“Hey,” You waved down the bartender, “Can I get my-” 
“Jack and Coke, sweetheart,” A husky voice said, as a large, warm body saddled up next to you, “And whatever the lady is having,” He nodded his head towards you. 
You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked up at the man next to you. You were met with the sight of perfect tan skin as if it had been kissed by the sun god himself, sandy blonde hair and the brightest smile you had ever seen. His green eyes peered down at you, a smirk on his lips. 
“You looked like you were going to leave,” He said, his voice with a slight southern twang to it, “And I couldn’t let you leave without introducing myself.” 
You raised a brow in suspicion.
“Jake,” He held his hand out to you. You looked at it skeptically, and then back up at him, his smile never wavering, “Oh c’mon sweetheart, I promise I don’t got any diseases. It’s just a hand shake, not a marriage proposal.” 
“Sonny,” You said before you even had a chance to stop yourself. It was the nickname your father had given you, and the name he almost always introduced you as. 
“Sonny, huh? Short for Sunshine?” 
I wish, you thought, “Yeah, I guess.” 
The bartender set down two drinks in front of you, the jack and coke for Jake, and another vodka soda for you. Jake lifted his drink, cheersing against yours before taking a sip. He leaned his back against his bar, canvasing the tightly packed area. Your eyes wandered over his body. He was clad in a burnt orange suit, with a lighter orange shirt underneath, a vast difference from the black and navy blue fitted suits filling the bar. It fit him in all the right places, the top buttons undone showing his collarbone and a gold chain around his neck. You watched as his throat bobbed as he took a sip of his drink, and thoughts of you running your tongue down the vein in his neck filled your mind, a warmth spreading in your lower belly. 
“I can feel you staring,” Jake said, turning his head to meet your gaze. 
Normally, you’d turn away and blush like a schoolgirl. You weren’t inexperienced with guys by any means, but you didn’t have the confidence. The fear of rejection was buried deep into you, that most of them you stayed away from guys like this. But blame it on the alcohol, you gave him a smirk, lifting the straw to your red painted lips. 
“A girl can’t admire what she likes?” You shrug, batting your eyelashes. 
A flash of darkness moved through his eyes, before the playful grin arose on his cheeks, “Yeah?” He leaned in closer to you. The scent of his cologne fills your nose, goosebumps arising on your skin from the warmth filtering off his body. Who knew that you could get turned on by a man smelling good? “What else does the girl like?” 
You bit your lip, leaning into him, so your chest was almost touching his. You didn’t miss the quick shift of his eyes downward at your chest and then back to your eyes. 
“Tequila.”  
The smirk never left his lips as he turned back towards the bar, ordering two shots of tequila with limes. You took another sip of your drink, setting it down on the bar as the bartender delivered the shots. Jake gently took your hand in his, his green eyes locked on yours as he licked a stripe on your skin, before sprinkling a line of salt. The move shouldn’t have turned you on that much, but alas here you were, wondering what it would be like to feel his tongue on other places of your body. 
As if he could tell what you were thinking, Jake shot you a wink before handing you one of the shot glasses. He held his glass up slightly, as he gave a small toast. 
“To bad decisions. Can’t come in her, come on her.” Jake’s eyes never left your as you both licked the lines of salt on the back of your hands. You watched as he clenched his jaw from the burn of the clear liquid down his throat. You set the shot glass down on the bar, now feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through your veins. 
“More?” You asked, a look in your eye that told Jake you weren’t ready for the night to end yet. 
“Fuck it.” 
The two of you put down a couple of more shots, before Jake was dragging you back to a booth he and his friends had claimed on the other side of the bar. You weren’t sure what it was about Jake, but you felt like you knew him. Maybe it was his easy going smile or how easily a conversation flowed between the two of you. Jake had sat you down next to him in one of the booths, but at some point in time, you had slid into his lap, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh, like it belonged there. Your drinks had long been discarded and the ice melted. 
“So, what are you in town for?” Jake asked, his lips right next to your ear as he tried to speak over the loud sound of the bass. 
“Work stuff,” You shrugged. You would rather not get into the details of what was going to be your most stressful weekend of the whole entire season, “What about you? You live here or…?” 
“Nah,” Jake chuckled, “Born and raised, but don’t live here. Also visiting for work.” 
Right on cue, one of Jake’s friends set down another tray of shots, everyone around the booth grabbing one. Jake kept his arm around you as he reached to grab one. He raised it up, toasting with the rest of his friends, before turning to look at you. 
Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him take the shot, holding the alcohol in his mouth. You didn’t need to be told as his hand gripped your face, and brought your jaw towards him, opening your own mouth. You knew it was obscene as Jake spit the alcohol, which was again tequila into your mouth, but you didn’t care. You had barely swallowed the liquid, when you crashed your lips to his. 
Jake’s grip on your hips tightened, and you felt the swelling of his cock against your ass. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His tongue entered your mouth, tasting of the lime and tequila he had taken earlier. His warmth enveloped you, as you rubbed your thighs together trying to get some friction to relieve the aching heat between your legs. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling gently on the blonde locks, making a groan fall from his lips. Jake’s lips trailed from yours, leaving a path of sloppy, wet kisses on your skin, sucking with just enough pressure to make a moan tumble from your lips.
“What do you say, sweetheart,” Jake whispered against your skin, the feeling making you shiver in his arms, “Want to get out of here?” 
You turned to face him. His green eyes were blown wide with lust, his hair tousled from you running your hands through it, his lips slightly swollen and pouty as he looked at you. 
Throwing all caution to the wind, you placed another heated kiss on his lips before pulling away. 
“Thought you’d never ask.”
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taglist: @dempy @marchingicenotes7 @abaker74 @aworldwideapart @atarmychick007 @hookslove1592 @whatislovevavy @lynnevanss @djs8891 @jessicab1991 @senawashere @bethbunnyy @bradshawbaby @coconut152 @jazminlahey20 @averyhotchner @misconceptionmistress @drxgxnslxyer @atinytinaa @hangmansgbaby @buckysteveloki-me @himbos-on-ice @krispybearbouquet @fandom-princess-forevermore @seitmai @ateliersss
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roosterbruiser · 1 year
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hi! could i request something where jake secretly has an older daughter that he had with his high school sweetheart during their senior year and the squad finds out? i just love the idea of jake and his high school girlfriend being married and just as in love now as they were back then
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𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲
𝐚 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞
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Things hadn't always been easy with Jake--God, no.
Well, really, things had been downright blissful in the beginning. What were teenagers going to fight about anyway? You two just clicked--you knew you were right for each other.
Then you got pregnant. And for a while, actually, things had been really hard.
Between the fateful night of your graduation when your pregnancy test came back positive and the next eight months of your pregnancy, the two of you fought more than you ever had before. It wasn't just because he was trying to do the responsible thing by asking you to marry him--which, let's be honest; he had planned on doing that long before the positive pregnancy test--and the stress of planning the shotgun wedding you were trying really hard not to call a shotgun wedding. It was the hormones and the academy and the moving cross-country in the middle of a difficult pregnancy and all the growing up the two of you had to do so hastily.
The two of you had bickered here and there--which was bound to happen when you are devoted to someone from the seventh grade forward--but had never fought as passionately as you were while you were pregnant. It was senseless arguments, ones sprinkled in between trainings and morning sickness and job searches and taping boxes.
It wasn't even that the two of you didn't love each other. That's what the most frustrating part of it all was, really; the two of you were stupidly in love. Like the kind of love people really only see on screens, which you would never say out loud (even though you know it's true), and wish for but usually never get.
Everything changed the day Charlotte was born. You went into labor in the middle of an impassioned argument--one that was going precisely nowhere, not that either of you would admit it--and made it to the hospital to settle in comfortably for a very uncomfortable seventeen hours of labor.
Young as you both were, scared (terrified, really) as you both were, exhausted as you both were--everything else in the world melted away when you held that little pink, squirming baby against your chest.
Jake had been a wreck, suddenly realizing how absolutely out of his element he was as a measly 19-year-old with a wife and baby on the way, but had not left your side for even a moment. And when Charlotte, that sweet and loud little thing, finally settled with her chubby cheek against the red skin of your chest--something changed in his body. Already he knew that he loved you--God, he loved you so much. But seeing you there on the hospital bed with your hair plastered to your sweaty head and your cheeks flushed and your eyes swollen from crying, that love suddenly expanded and overwhelmed him. He felt like he was going to positively drown in all that love.
As if you sensed it, you looked up at him with an exhausted sort of awe-struck look. Your eyebrows were raised, your dry lips parted, your cheeks flushed, your eyelashes clumped with tears.
"She's got your big mouth," you had said to him, laughing breathily, cradling her against you.
You were shaking--not just from the sheer effort of pushing that baby into this world, but from the overwhelming amount of love coursing through your veins for that little stranger in your arms.
It had made all the nurses and doctors laugh as they still hustled and bustled around your open legs, but neither you or Jake even noticed them. You were looking up at your husband--who was suddenly not that flirty boy with the sweeping blonde hair that let you put your books in his locker, but a man with tears of pride streaming down his face as he looked down at his newly-expanded family for the first time.
He thought he was going to explode--but instead he just sobbed out a laugh. Then he leaned forward and pressed your damp hair out of your face, bringing his salty lips down on your forehead again and again. His quivering hand pressed against Charlotte's back and God, he loved her so much already. He hadn't even really seen her face for the first time, but he knew she was fucking perfect. He could feel it just under the pads of his fingers, could feel your laughter and your tears beneath his trembling lips.
"No more fightin', angel. I promise. I'm sorry," he whispered against your skin, resting his nose against your temple, sniffing hard. "Don't ever wanna fight with you ever again, okay? Love you too damn much to be arguin' all the time."
"I love you so much," you whispered to him, lips trembling as they pressed against his wet ones, bones aching with tired. "I don't ever wanna fight with you again."
But as he cupped your cheek and nuzzled his nose against yours, peppering kisses all along your tears and flushed skin, you knew that he meant it. No more arguing. You knew something was bound to change, knew it would probably change once Charlotte was born, but you hadn't expected it to be so immediate. But you were radiating love now--so happy you felt like your heart was gonna fall out of your chest.
And the two of you, as devoted to each other and your daughter as you are, kept the promise with a fierceness. No more fighting--you meant it and so did he.
Now that you're used to deployments and special detachments and moving and all the rare beauty that is attached to life as a Naval aviator's wife, everything runs smoothly.
He loves that you still send him a picture of Charlotte every single day while he's not home--something you'd done since his very first deployment when she was a few months old. You never missed a day--like ever, which he still didn't understand the logistics of--and always wrote a paragraph about yours and Charlotte's day.
When she was little, it had been something like:
Today Charlotte and I went to the park. It was that cute little one by our house, the one with all the dogs and food trucks. She's getting really good at holding her head up on her own! And she's not so fussy anymore about tummy time, which is a relief. I got to read a little bit of my book while she napped on the picnic blanket. She wore that sunhat your mama got her (as seen in the attached photo) and laughed at a dog that came to investigate her. She's a big fan of animals--might be something to consider, huh? Right now, she is talking my ear off about you, telling me all about those bedtime stories you read and how your voices are so much better than mine. I get it--I'm obsessed with you, too. We miss you. Gonna go pray at the shrine we made for you, I guess. Get home safe, okay? We love you.
But right now, as Jake sits in The Hard Deck only a few days after the successful Uranium Mission, he's smiling as he scrolls through the emails you'd sent him that he's only just now able to read.
He's nursing a beer, shoulders slumped and lips pulled faintly upwards as he basks in the warm evening sun filtering in through the window. It's noisy as ever all around him--Rooster pounding away on the piano with Maverick right there next to him, Coyote and Fanboy shooting the shit as they play a truly pathetic game of pool, someone being thrown overboard--but everything's white noise when he reads your emails.
Your emails are a little bit different now--especially now that Charlotte is twelve. She's less apt to let you take pictures of her now, going through the make-a-face-at-the-camera phase or just running away at the first sign of your lens facing her. You managed to snap a good one the other day, one where her green eyes are glimmering in the sun as she sips on a lemonade. Jake looks closely at the picture and decides that the two of you are at that little bistro by your house that you like to walk to.
Your daughter's glossy hair is longer than it was when he left and God, if she isn't growing more and more beautiful everyday. She looks just like you. She's got your exuberance and even though he would never say it to you or Charlotte, she's even got the little crinkle between her brows that seems to just pulse when she's frustrated.
He rereads your paragraph again.
Well, good morning to you, Lieutenant Husband. I woke up this morning to your daughter's dog peeing on the rug outside the bathroom. And your daughter thought that was the funniest thing in the world until I made her clean it up! I'm a mean mom, I guess. But I made up for it because we walked down to Frankie's and I let her get the bottomless lemonade. Currently writing this during her fourth bathroom trip. Think we're gonna catch a movie in a little bit and then maybe get some ice cream after. We miss you, baby. Can't wait to hear your voice again. And even though she won't say it, I know Charlotte can't wait to take you up on that beach day you promised her. Be good, stay safe, stay alive, okay? We love you more than anything in the world and you're definitely gonna have to re-potty train Sandy when you come home!
He missed you two more than anything in the world. But what he missed the most was just the domesticity the two of you had blissfully settled into. What he wouldn't give to wake up to Sandy peeing on the rug outside the bathroom, to back you up when Charlotte groaned about having to clean it up, to walk down to Frankie's with the two of you and tease Charlotte for using the bathroom so many times, to go see whatever stupid Kristen Stewart movie is playing, to eat a cone of mint chip ice cream and take the long way home. He ached for it, really--even if he knew there was only a few more days until he'd be back in it.
He could hardly wait.
"Who's the teeny-bopper?"
Jake nearly jumps out of his skin, jerking back against the wooden booth and snapping up to look up at the squadron that has suddenly gathered all around him. It's Payback that's asked, his eyebrow perched as he leans in to get a closer look at Charlotte.
"God, she looks just like you," Phoenix adds, narrowing her eyes on what is essentially Hangman's mouth and nose on a much smaller face. "Younger sister?"
Everyone's staring at Jake now.
It isn't even that he's been hiding the two of you--he loves showing you off. But it's just that it hasn't come up and quite frankly, they've been a little busy the past few weeks.
Bob's always been good at reading people--so when he studies the photograph and then studies the redness in Hangman's cheeks and the way he wets his tongue nervously, Bob knows. Bob knows before anyone else--besides Maverick and Coyote, that is.
"How's my niece?" Coyote asks, clapping Jake on the shoulder with a sly grin.
Jake sighs, shaking his head softly at Javy before submitting to it all--thrusting his phone forward to let the squadron read your email and look at the picture of Charlotte.
"Niece? No way," Fanboy exclaims, brows furrowed. "No way."
But now Rooster is holding the phone, his mouth agape, zooming in on Charlotte's face and it is suddenly undeniable to everyone there--that is absolutely the spawn of Jake Seresin. Right down to the dimples and the green eyes, that is his daughter.
"Charlotte," Jake says softly, trying to choke down all that pride that is inching its way up his throat. "She's twelve. And she's the best person that's ever lived, obviously."
Phoenix would've snorted if she hadn't been so totally awe-struck.
"You taking all the credit for that?" Rooster quips, shooting a playful smirk Jake's way.
But Jake just holds his hands up in surrender, sighing as he shakes his head.
"I'll give that to the wife," he says fondly. "She's also the best person that's ever lived. Better than all of you combined."
Coyote takes a sip of his own beer before nodding.
"Oh, absolutely," he agrees at once. "That woman's a saint for putting up with you and raising that Hellion."
Javy's joking of course--he'd actually never seen a more communicative, loving relationship than yours and Jake's. And he'd never met such a well-rounded girl as Charlotte. She had a good head on her shoulders, put there by her parents. Javy was even sure that Charlotte knew more than he did already and she hadn't even finished middle school.
"A wife, too?" Bob asks softly, smiling as he reads your email.
"And a dog," Fanboy adds softly, scanning over your paragraph.
Jake hums, nodding, trying not to look too pathetically in love with you. Even though he is, in fact, pathetically in love with you.
"Going on thirteen years," Jake says. "Thirteen happy years."
And everyone knows that he means it, especially when he just glances back at his phone in Rooster's hands and smiles softly to himself. He is thoroughly in love with you and with your daughter--Hell, he just loves your shared life. He's itching to go home, even if a poorly house-trained dog is waiting for him.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Phoenix says, bumping him with her eyebrows furrowed.
"And when can we meet them?" Payback adds.
Jake is grinning now--just the prospect of his Navy family meeting his real family makes affection swarm his heart. He shrugs.
"Maybe we could figure something out before everyone has to go. I'm sure we can get Charlotte out of school for a couple of days. Family's a good enough reason for me--bet it will be for the wife, too."
He's gushing with pride--he's not even trying to, but he really is. Coyote is used to the way Jake practically glows when he talks about you and Charlotte. Hell, he even gets it. You're beautiful and funny and kind and whip-smart. You hold it down and make it look easy. And Charlotte is a perfect balance of the two of you, striking every single genetic sweet-spot.
"I'm shocked," Rooster says. "You're so...gooey right now."
"Yeah, Bagman," Phoenix says with a smile. "Going all soft on us."
Hangman wants to roll his eyes again. Really, he does. But he just can't. So he takes another sip of his beer, thinks about the way you would be cuddled into him right now and quipping back at Rooster as the two of you watch Charlotte sweetly order her third lemonade from Penny, and shrugs with a grin tugging on his lips.
"I guess I am," he smiles.
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if you liked this, consider checking out my Jake x You story!
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ereardon · 5 months
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The Backup || Jake Seresin x Reader [teaser]
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“That can’t happen again.”  
“It will.” 
You sighed loudly, flinging yourself backward onto the mound of pillows, knowing that he was right. Jake rolled off the bed, tugging on his boxers. 
He grinned. “Any more bad dates planned for this week?” 
“A blind date on Friday,” you replied, rolling onto your side to face him as Jake got dressed. “Someone that a secretary from my work knows.” 
“A blind date, really?” 
Ignoring his comment, you replied, “What about you?” 
“No plans.” 
“Which means that you’ll have a date lined up by Thursday.” 
“And it’ll be a flop and we’ll be right back here on Friday night.” 
“I’m serious Jake, this can’t keep happening.” You stepped out of bed, slipping on a silk robe and tying it tightly around your middle. “We can’t be each other’s fallback every time a date goes sideways.” 
“So end it,” he said. “You’re the one that called me tonight, remember?” 
“I’m weak,” you replied and Jake chuckled. 
“You’re a lot of things, sweetheart, but weak isn’t one of them. Except when it comes to those mall pretzels.” 
“Well those are objectively the best.” 
“True.” 
You watched as Jake finished getting dressed, tying his shoelaces, slipping on his jacket. “Can I ask you something?” 
“Always.” 
“Are we fucking each other up by doing this? Like are we the reason that every single date goes bad? Because I feel like lately they all end up sucking.” 
“The dates are bad because our options are bad,” Jake replied. “We’re not cursed, Stinky. That’s just how these things go. You date and date and just when you think you want to fling yourself over the Golden Gate you find one person who suddenly makes things work. And then you live your weird Hallmark lives together forever.” 
“You, Jake Seresin, believe that?” You raised your eyebrows. “What happened to the guy I met three years ago who didn’t realize that girls don’t want to come over to your fucking Tenderloin apartment and see a bed without a bed frame?” 
“I loved that apartment and it was dirt cheap,” Jake argued. “Besides, you’re not much better. Remember when you thought guys actually liked girls who wore Birkenstocks?” 
“They’re comfortable!” 
“You looked like you were going to yell at me for not using a reusable jar to grind my own peanut butter at Whole Foods for twenty dollars an ounce. It was heinous. Also they smelled like ass.” Hence, the nickname that you hoped would die but never did. 
“You’re just saying that because your type is girls who stomp around in size five Aquazzura heels on Market Street and have their daddy’s Amex card numbers memorized.” 
“Better than your type. Mr. Couch potato, looks practically homeless and asks you to split the check at dinner because he’s too cheap to pay for your baked potato.” 
“That happened twice, that’s not a pattern.” 
“More than once is concerning.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re lucky you’re good in bed because I can’t fucking stand you.” 
“Stop stroking my ego.” 
“Goodnight, Seresin,” you said, walking toward the kitchen, your back to him. “Slam the door on your face on your way out, won’t you?” 
“Night Stinky,” he said and you could hear his footsteps trailing down the hallway. “See you next weekend!” 
You grabbed a half-empty bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the fridge door and slammed it, a little too hard, the sound of bottles inside rattling as you unscrewed the cap and chugged directly from the bottle. It was acidic, probably too old, but it would do the trick. Anything to block out Jake’s words that haunted the quiet air of your apartment even after he was gone.
He was right. Somehow the two of you always fell into bed together. The dates always went belly up. Hinge, Raya, Bumble, League. No app worked. No blind set up. It was like clockwork: you’d spend an hour getting ready for a date, and within five minutes you’d know that at the end you’d call an Uber to take you to Jake’s. Or vice versa: he’d show up at your door with a pocketful of condoms and a smirk. It always ended the same way. For almost a year, you and Jake had been filling the gaps of your dating life with each other. Friends with benefits. No strings. 
And, of course, you made a point to keep it from the friend group. Coyote would throw an absolute fit if he found out. 
[Note: Special shoutout to @clancycucumber230 for the idea!]
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Let’s give him hell - Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Seresin! Reader
Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, cursing, fighting. Protective older brother Jake and bestie Bradley
Part 2 is posted here
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“Please don’t be awake.” You repeated the words to yourself as you walked up the steps to your house, praying to a higher power that Jake wasn’t still awake. He had been home for leave and was staying in your guest room along with a couple of his navy buddies. You knew he didn’t want to stay with your parents because he wasn’t your dads biggest fan, so you said he could stay with you. But now, as you realized the situation you were in, you were regretting it. You really didn’t want your older brother to see the poorly covered bruises because you knew he would lose his shit. You were the youngest of the Seresin siblings and the one who was the closest to the only boy of the bunch, him being a couple years your senior.
The bruises that were slowly starting to turn purple now were the doing of the man who was supposed to always protect you. Jason, your boyfriend had gotten a little over zealous tonight and had put his hands on you. You tried to cover it with makeup and a baseball cap, but you knew you weren’t fooling anyone.
You kept your head down as you slid in the front door, trying to shut the door quietly. You heard your brothers voice and the voice of others; telling you that there was more than one naval aviator you had to avoid. You listened to the voices; recognizing Rooster and Jake laughing about who knows what. You slowly pushed the door shut and swore under your breath as the door squeaked loud enough for the conversation to stop.
“You’re home late.” You heard Jake call out, his head peaking out from behind the door frame in the kitchen. You nodded and lowered your head even more, clicking your tongue as you sat your keys down and sighed. You felt like you were a teenager again, getting caught by him when you were out past curfew. “Yeah, I fell asleep at Jason’s.” The words were a bold faced lie as you scouted out your escape up the stairs and to your room “I hope you haven’t tried to burn my house down yet.” You tried to keep a conversation flowing as you put away your shoes and your coat, hearing Rooster laugh at your comment.
Your heart swelled in your chest at the sound of your best friends laughter, wishing you could go say hi. But knowing better than that. “What do you think?” Jake’s voice made you roll your eyes as you affirmed his smart ass words, hearing a chair scrape along the kitchen floor. “Wow, she hasn’t even come to say hi to me. We both come into town for the first time in a year and she’s avoiding us..” You heard Rooster’s teasing voice and you feel your heart start to race.
“I’m going to bed! I’ll see you guys tomorrow! Night!” And with that you took off sprinting up the stairs, slamming your door behind you. You turned the lock on the door, or so you thought as you walk into your room and sink down into your bed. You slid the hat off your head and let yourself take in the sight of yourself, a few tears slipping down your cheeks as you shake your head; recalling the argument in your head.
You had called him out on not being faithful to you, having found evidence of him cheating in the form of a girl texting him while you were over. It had made you extremely upset, telling him you were done. At the words, he lost his temper. He took his anger out on you and you were now wearing the consequences.
“Hey, Jake asked me to come check-“ You heard a knock on your door as Bradley pushed it open, showing a perfect example of the literal open policy the two of you had in your friendship. He stopped dead in his tracks as he caught sight of you in the mirror, his eyes widening. “He didn’t.” His tone turned harsh as he walked in and sat in front of you, carefully taking your face in his hand. “Are you okay?” His voice softened as he carefully ran his fingers down your skin, his hazel eyes meeting yours.
You gave him the best fake smile you could muster, nodding as you put your hand over his. “I’m okay, Roo. I promise.” You wiped away a couple of tears as you looked up at him and swallowed thickly. “Please don’t tell Jake..” You knew exactly what your brother was capable of and you were terrified for it to be unleashed. Growing up, he was the kind to square up against your dad and he did it with a cocky smile on his lips.
Your dad laid his hands on your mom one time and never made the mistake again after Jake punched him for it. Sure, the blonde aviator got a nasty shiner and a bloody lip, but he looked your dad dead in the eye as he threatened with the cops. “Call them. I’ll tell them to read me my rights. You don’t fucking touch my mother like that.” His words were dripping with venom as he spit his blood into the grass, clenching his fists. “As far as I’m concerned, the law was mine to break tonight and I would gladly fucking do it again.” The fight was over then and there and never happened again.
“You know I have to tell him. He fucking hurt you.” Bradley was trying to keep his cool for your sake but you just looked up at him, shaking your head. “Then I guess I should just give you more ammo if we’re going to rile my brother up.” You pushed yourself up off the bed and out of Roosters grip, walking over to your dresser. You slid out of the shirt you were wearing, slipping on one of Roosters old shirts that he gave you. “He cheated on me too.” You met his eyes through your mirror, feeling a small sense of fear creep into your spine as you saw anger flash through his eyes.
Rooster shook his head as he watched you crawl into bed, biting the inside of his lip. He walked over and sat on the edge of your bed, feeling like you could use the sense of safety. He stayed there until he heard your soft snores, quietly letting himself out of your room.
He walked downstairs to meet the curious eyes of the other aviators, Jake opening his mouth to spout off a smart aleck remark. However, Bradley raised his hand to stop him, a dead serious look on his face. “We have an ass to go kick. He laid his hands on her.” The words were enough for Jake to stand straight up, immediately going to grab his truck keys. “Do you know where he lives?” One of the other boys spoke up, setting his beer down on the table as they all stood up from their chairs. “Unfortunately for him, I do. He’s going to pay.” Jake’s words were cold enough to chill someone to the bone as he motioned for everyone to follow him, ready to go take matters into his own hands.
Taglist: @atarmychick007 @ginger-gabsq @fandomxpreferences
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bussyslayer333 · 1 year
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Push the button
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summary: jake has a thing for his new assistant.
pairing: ceo!jake seresin x assistant!reader
word count: 3.2k
warnings: smutt,, maybe power play?? he’s ur boss,, daddy kink lol, swearing and some creepy work guys. MDNI 18+
⭑・゚゚・*:༅。.。༅:*゚:*:✼✿
Jake should have never hired you. He was pretty sure you were the least efficient assistant he’d ever had. But every time he brought you into his office to fire you, you looked up at him with your big eyes and simpered,
“Yes, Mr Seresin?”
He crumbled. You made Jake Seresin a weak, weak man. You were fresh out of college and definitely too young for him, but your tight pencil skirts and blouses that always had at least one button more that needed to be done up always had him slightly dizzy.
He was currently watching you through the glass door to the copy room, bent over the photocopier on the 10th floor trying to unjam whatever document you had probably stuck in the wrong port. Mike, the creepy tech support was stood behind you offering increasingly unhelpful advice. You stood back up with a huff and turned to Mike,
“Are you sure there’s a reset button all the way down there?”
“Oh yeah, definitely,”
Jake watches as you shrug and bend back over trying to look for the “reset button”. He also watches as Mike’s hand slides low on your back, that’s when he decides to make himself known.
“Everything alright?”
Mike immediately backs off from you and prays that you don’t open your mouth. To his dismay, you snap back up immediately, a ditsy smile on your face.
“Totally Mr Seresin! Mike was helping me with the copier, I didn’t realise there was a reset button all the way at the bottom!”
Jake isn’t sure what’s worse, your complete trust in anyone that talks to you or the fact that he’s probably going to have to file to HR about Mike once again. Mike looks up at him somewhat apologetically and Jake sighs,
“Get out.”
Mike scurries off and Jake can’t help but laugh at his uncanny resemblance to a rodent. You’re looking up at him with that pout that makes his dress pants feel too tight,
“That was kind of mean.”
Jake scoffs, “Darlin’ there’s no reset button down there.”
You look up at him, confused for a second, “Oh. Someone should probably tell Mike then, don’t want him doing his job wrong.”
Jake reaches a hand up to rub at his forehead, he worries one day that your unwavering kindness is going to get you killed.
“Walk with me.” Jake orders, remembering he came to fetch you for a reason.
He’s striding out the door much faster than you with his long legs, you walk as fast as you can in your shiny heels to catch up with him. Jake can hear your hurried clip clopping behind him and smiles to himself. Once you catch up, Jake offers his arm to you, figuring it’s the best way for you to stay in pace with him (also because you have a tendency to wander off).
“I have a meeting with a bunch of guys from the board in 20ish minutes, I need you in there with me.”
You’re nodding along to everything he says,
“Certainly sir.” You giggle, saluting him.
Jake wills a groan not to slip out of his mouth at the formality. He also hopes you don’t figure out that you don’t need to be in the meeting at all, he just knows it’s going to be a drag and wants your pretty face to stare at when Rich the head of the board starts droning on.
“Great, 12th floor, meeting room 3 in..” Jake checks his watch, “15 minutes.”
You nod your head along diligently before spinning on your heel,
“Where are you going?” Jake calls after you.
“I left those papers in the copy room!” You exclaim, stumbling slightly now you weren’t looking where you were going.
Jake just sighs and hopes you’re in the meeting room on time.
What Jake doesn’t expect is for you to already be in the meeting room when he gets there, in fact you’re already talking to Rich, and he’s… laughing? In the 5 years that Jake has been head of his company he’s pretty sure he’s never seen Rich even smile. Jake clears his throat to make his presence known and you jump out of the seat next to Rich to stand by Jake’s side.
The smile that was on Rich’s face immediately drops and Jake has to hold back the urge to roll his eyes.
Jake was right, the meeting was long and boring and Rich droned on about efficiency and stats and things that Jake didn’t care about, so he was shocked you weren’t dozing off. When Jake finally managed to escape he turned to you,
“Thank you for that.”
Your bright smile makes up for every boring moment of the past two hours,
“It’s no problem Mr Seresin.”
In the elevator up to the top floor where Jake’s office is he comes to realise how late it is, it’s pushing 9 o clock and most of his employees have left. Jake still has mountains of things to sign and documents to work through, he lets a groan slip out of his mouth.
“All okay Mr Seresin?”
Jake jumps slightly, he had forgotten about your presence next to him and he grimaces down at you,
“You should go home sweetheart, get some rest.”
You beam up at him in your usual demeanour, “And leave your all on your own?”
Jake laughs, “I’ll be fine sweetheart.”
You cross your arms and muster up what you think is a pointed look, Jake tries not to laugh again at your pout.
“I’m not leaving you here, you’ll end up staying all night then I’ll be the one dealing with you tomorrow when you’re cranky and tired.”
The elevator dings and you step out in front of Jake. He sighs realising he won’t be getting rid of you any time soon. He follows the sway of your hips all the way to his office. It’s all sleek large glass doors and the top to bottom window gives him an incredible view of the city below. You flick the lights on and sit in the comfy seat opposite Jake’s leather chair. Jake watches as you kick your heels off and wiggle your toes in your black sheer stockings.
“They hurt like a bitch after a long day.”
Jake chuckles, he’s never heard you swear before. Your eyes widen like a shocked baby deer,
“Shit, am I allowed to swear in front of you?”
You cover your mouth and mumble, “Sorry!”
As Jake sits, he wonders if you truly understand the effect you have on him. Trying to do work whilst you’re perched opposite him is proving a near impossible task. Not to mention the fact that his neck has been killing him all day.
Whilst tapping something into your phone, you look up to see Jake rubbing his neck with a pained look on his face for the fifth time in the past ten minutes.
“Do you want me to rub your neck?” You question politely.
Jake would love nothing more than having your soft manicured hands rubbing his neck, but he worries what having your hands on him will do to his slowly weakening facade. He decides to throw caution to the winds and speaks up,
“Please.”
He realised that sounded kind of pathetic, but you seem ecstatic, jumping up from your position and making you way to the spot directly in front of him. Jake strains to keep his eyes on your face as you lean down to push his chair back, making more room for yourself.
Your hands on his neck feels like heaven, but he can’t help but feel bad about the way you are now hunkered down trying to help him. So Jake figured the best way to alleviate this is to pull you down into his lap. He does it with both hands on your hips, you land a little ungracefully with a surprised squeal leaving your mouth. You shuffle around until you’re sat comfortably, then look up at Jake,
“Is this okay, Mr Seresin?”
Jake is trying so hard not to spontaneously combust.
“Perfect.”
Your magic hands return back to his neck with vigour, working at the tense knots there. Jake can’t help but groan in pleasure every time you work over a particularly sensitive spot. Something Jake also notices is the way you’re now subtly grinding yourself down on his semi. Your pathetic whimpers going straight down to his cock as you dare to grind down harder onto him. Jake can’t help but tease you,
“What are you doing sweetheart?”
Both your ministrations holt, and your doe eyes meet his again.
“Nothing!” You all but squeak out.
“You and I both know that’s not true.”
Jake’s heart pangs as you push your face into his neck and sniffle,
“You just sound so good sir. Feels so good.”
Jake guides your face away from the crook of his neck and coos at your tearful eyes, “It’s okay baby, I liked it.”
You seem elated by his praise and quickly forget your previous embarrassment. Jake slowly guides your lips to his, he’s worried about frightening you away. Your lips are tentative against Jake’s at first, unsure whether you should be doing this. But Jakes strong hands drift down to squeeze against the curve of your ass, eliciting a moan from you. Enough so that Jake can slip his tongue into your mouth, just as Jake goes to deepen the kiss again you pull back shyly and pull on his loosened tie. Jake gets the hint and takes the tie off, placing the expensive silk on his desk behind you.
You get the honour of undoing his buttons, Jake watches with a lazy smirk as you stick your tongue out in concentration. Your manicured nails making it hard to undo the buttons too quickly, but Jake enjoys the build up. When you’re finally finished with your job, you move your hands up to push at the shirt and Jake gets the hint to pull it the rest of the way off of his arms.
Jake smirks as you sigh softly in appreciation, and rake you nails lightly over his abs up to the sprinkling of hair on his chest.
“I’m feeling a little singled out sweets.” Jake teases.
You tilt your head to the side confusedly, until you realise what he’s talking about. Jake loves watching the cogs turn in your mind. You let out a little “oh!” with a giggle and begin to unbutton your blouse. This time Jake doesn’t care for the build up, instead ripping your blouse the rest of the way off, buttons flying.
You pout, “Hey! I liked that top!”
Jake’s eyes run over your chest, as he mumbles something along the lines of, “I’ll buy you a new one.” His heated gaze makes you somewhat self conscious and you bring your hands up to cover your chest.
“Please don’t hide from me baby.”
You slowly bring your hands down and watch as Jake reaches for the clasp at the back of your bra. You gasp as you feel it come undone and reach to hold the cups in place. You make sure to hold eye contact with him as you let your lacy bra drop. Jake’s pulling at his lower lip with his teeth,
“Fuck.”
He pulls you close for a kiss again, revelling in the feeling of your breasts pushed up against his chest. This time you’re confident in the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips with ease as it continues. Your hips grind down into his crotch subconsciously, swirling in delicious circles that have Jake dizzy. When you pull back for a breath Jake is signalling for you to stand up.
Stood up, there’s not much height difference between you whilst he still sits and your stomach clenches in excitement. Jake watches, pupils dilated and you slide your tight pencil skirt down your legs and kick it to the side. Your sheer stockings do little to hide the tiny lace underwear you’ve got on and you startle slightly as Jake groans loudly at the sight.
“Jesus, sweets, is this all for me?”
A smile spreads across Jake’s face as you nod coyly.
Jake spins you around so that you’re bent somewhat over his desk, you wiggle your ass at him as he pulls your stockings down for you. Once you’re fully stepped out of them Jake stands to his full height, you can feel his tall presence behind you and it sends a shiver of excitement up your spine. Jake experimentally taps your ass, it’s not too hard but your flesh jiggles, pleasing Jake to no end. He does it again, this time harder. You arch back into his touch with a moan.
“Would you look at that?” You can hear the smirk on Jake’s face.
He smacks your ass again, a pink mark forms from the pressure of it.
“Beautiful.” He murmurs, hand stroking gently against the mark.
“Please touch me.” You whimper, leaning back into his touch.
Jake’s hand ghosts against your pussy, a finger sliding up the lace that covers your folds, he can feel how wet you are through the fabric. His middle finger finds your clit and experimentally circles it. You mewl, head thrown back.
“Daddy, please.”
Jake chuckles at the name that slips out of your mouth. You were driving him insane and you didn’t even know it.
Jake drops to his knees behind you, licking a fat stripe up your clothed pussy. You squirm back against his face and gasp. Jake likes your reaction so much that he takes mercy on you, pulling your underwear to the side and licking another stripe up your pussy, dipping his tongue experimentally into your hole. You’re so wet that Jake can already feel your juices coating his chin, you can’t seem to care as you moan incoherently, wiggling back into Jake’s face. Jake stills you by holding your hips, dipping his tongue back down to circle your clit. Just as your moans begin to pick up he pulls away,
“Sugar, I need to feel you on me is that okay?”
You whine at the loss of contact, but his question sounds promising, “Yes.”
Jake quirks an eyebrow as he stands back up, whispering into your ear with a smirk, “Yes what?”
Your cheeks flush, “Yes, Daddy.”
You can hear Jake unbuckling his belt behind you, prompting you to arch your back, shaking your ass invitingly. Jake is pretty sure you’re going to kill him, but he’s going to die a happy man. Jake’s hand feels strong gripping onto the side of your hip, you look back at him and still have the audacity to smile shyly even as he guides the tip of his cock through your dripping folds. He’s groaning freely at the feel of it all, especially as you wiggle back onto him. He finally takes mercy on you and pushes into you slowly, the whimper you let out is music to his ears.
Once he’s fully settled into you, he allows you a minute to get used to the feeling of his considerable size. He takes a tentative thrust into you and you moan once again and turn back to look at him,
“Please, Daddy.”
Jake had never been one to deny you before. He begins his thrusts with reckless abandon, one hand still had a bruising grip on your hip, the other pushing slightly into the arch of your lower back. The high pitched whine that comes out of you scratches against your throat sending vibrations down your chest, the feeling of your breasts pushed against the cold glass top of Jake’s desk making for a delicious contrast in temperature.
Jake’s thrusts are calculated and hit deep within you, he’s groaning behind you, the feeling of your warm walls pulling him is in intoxicating. A smirk makes his way onto his face as he realises how you’re pushing back to meet his thrusts, ass hitting his pelvis rhythmically.
“Desperate, baby?”
Jake pulls you by your hair to look back at him, he’s greeted with your glassy eyes and open mouth moaning freely. You’ve lost any shame you may have felt to the feeling of Jake so deep inside of you. The last straw is when he reaches a strong hand down to circle your clit, just enough pressure to make your knees weak, relying more than ever on his grip on your waist.
“Fuckkkkkk.” You whine and Jake tuts, kissing against the hot skin of your back.
You’re pretty sure you’re drooling as Jake quickens his ministrations against your clit, pace of his thrusts still quick and deep. You clench around him, nearing your peak and he groans.
“Sweetheart, please cum for me.”
His words add fuel to the growing fire in your core, grinding back into his fast thrusts. One final toy to your clit sends you head first over the edge. You can’t even imagine how loud your moans are as you become consumed by pleasure. Jake is enjoying every last second, wishing he could commit the sweet sounds you make to his memory forever. Your throbbing walls bring Jake dangerously close to his own peak, and his thrusts become erratic as your heartbeat finally returns back to normal. Jake pulls out of you swiftly and watches in awe as you sink to your knees in front of him, tongue lolling out of your mouth and wide eyes staring up at him.
Jake strokes his cock quickly, keeping eye contact with you as he finishes. His cum spatters over your tongue and chin though mostly landing over your chest. His eyes roll to the back of his head at the sight of you on your knees covered in his seed, fighting off another erection. You swipe your tongue around your lips, collecting as much of his seed as you can. It’s salty but not unpleasant.
Jake helps you up to your wobbly feet. You’re suddenly slightly self conscious as you take in your position; stood fully naked in front of your boss who just fucked you within an inch of your life. Your anxieties are squashed as he kisses your forehead sweetly and flattens some of your mussed hair. He reaches for the draw behind him and pulls out a few tissues from a box, wiping the drying cum from your chest. When he meets your look you quirk up an eyebrow, smirking.
He chuckles, “Shut up.”
Jake reaches for his discarded shirt and drapes it over your frame,
“Let me take you home?”
“That would be nice, sir.”
Jake huffs, “Just Jake is okay sweetheart.”
“Okay Just Jake.” You tease, as he rolls his eyes.
The next morning you step into the elevator to find Jake. There’s no one else in there and he presses the button to the top floor; his office.
He looks down at your tight blouse, straightening the sleeves of his suit jacket and smirks,
“So, daddy huh?”
⭑・゚゚・*:༅。.。༅:*゚:*:✼✿
a/n: HERE SHE ISSS i am obsessed sorry everyone
feel free to send me any thoughts!! i’m thinking maybe i do some drabbles about them?? send me some prompts :)
hope u all enjoy my filth once again
pls reblog, comment or send me and ask and tell me what you think !!
thank u for readinggg
- honey <333
1K notes · View notes
thewulf · 4 months
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A Little Jealous || Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Summary: Request - I was hoping if I could get one with Jake Seresin x reader where they're very close to each other and flirt with each other all day and makes everyone sick with their shenanigans but they secretly pine for each other... Read Rest Here
A/N: Good old miscommunication trope :) I love writing Jake. Keep on sending these amazing requests in and lmk what you think below! TY for the request @stuffingbuttsandshit
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N
Word Count: 3.3k +
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“You’re being dumb, and you know it.” Natasha rolled her eyes before turning back to the traffic light the two of you were stopped at, heading towards the Hard Deck. Your usual Friday night hangout spot after yet another grueling training session with Maverick. He was kicking all of your sorry asses right into shape.
Leaning back into the seat you refused to look at her instead keeping your eyes trained out the window, “He doesn’t like me like that. He’s not a relationship guy Nat. He’s said it a hundred damn times. Why would I be any different?” Sighing in frustration Nat noticed you toying with the hem of your shirt, a nervous habit she picked up on after only you for a short while.
“Because you’re you? He told me yesterday how much he likes you.” She sighed in annoyance as she kept her eyes on the road even though she wanted to slap some sense into you. She often had to restrain herself from quite literally beating you up sometimes.
“As a friend! He likes me as a friend you doofus.” You added on knowing he couldn’t possibly return the feelings you had for him.
She scoffed while very visibly rolling her eyes at you, “Can’t believe you called me a doofus you dork.” She sighed before letting you continue the conversation, “Listen, all the two of you do is flirt. He’s constantly staring at you when you aren’t eye fucking him right on back. I haven’t seen two people get along so easily before in this line of work. Might as well embrace what you have while you have a chance.”
“Whatever. I’ll talk to him tonight.” You didn’t want to admit defeat, but you were growing rather tired of going back and forth with her on it. If there was one thing she was it was adamant, and this was the only way to get her to be quiet about it.
Her eyes lit up almost as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing from your mouth, “Really?”
“Yeah, yeah. If it comes up naturally I will.” You nodded your head thankful she was pulling into the bar already. There was a reason everybody from base went here after work, it was close. And you couldn’t be more thankful to be out of the car away from her prying eyes.
She shut the car off turning back to you, “Good enough for me. Now go in there and get your man.” She smirked knowing it’d set you off. She was right of course.
“Not my man.” You grumbled before happily hopping out of her car that was suffocating with her pressing you on the topic of Lieutenant Jake Seresin.
Of course, you’d love to take the next step with him. You practically threw yourself at the guy every time you hung out with him. But he never seemed to take your advances for what they were. Maybe you weren’t forward enough? Or maybe he just wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. You shuddered at that thought. He’d eventually be a relationship kind of guy. When he wanted to be. Why couldn’t it be with you?
When you walked through the front door and over to your usual spot you didn’t spot him right away. Instead, you spotted Bob and Rooster in the corner chatting away about something intently. Sitting down next to them you waited for their conversation to conclude before interrupting them.
“Hey Y/N.” Bob acknowledged you after a minute. You didn’t mind. Your eyes were busy scanning for Jake. Much to your annoyance you didn’t see him. Was he not here yet? That’d be off, he always beat you to the bar. Always saved a seat for you.
“Hey guys.” You nodded at the both of them with distraction written all over your face.
Rooster smiled over at you knowing exactly who you were looking for, “He’s on the other side of the bar with a friend.”
“Who is?” You couldn’t hide the blush that appeared out of thin air just at the thought of Jake. Were you really that easy to read?
“Hangman.” Rooster leaned forward challenging you, “The guy you’ve been looking for since you walked in.” Bob couldn’t help the small laugh that came from his friends joke.
“I have not.” Your eyes looked everywhere but his.
Bradley laughed, “Sure. Go on then. Go get a drink or something. Definitely don’t go looking for Jake or anything.”
You stook quickly, gracious of his out, “Am I that bad of company?” You mocked offence.
“Hardly.” He smiled shaking his head at your usual antics. Rooster had come to like you quite a bit. You were sharp as a tack, deadly in the air and kinder than they usually came. He’d be a fool not to befriend you. An asset he knew he’d need in the future, “It’s our company I fear that is not nearly riveting enough for you.”
You giggled shaking your head at him, “You’re something else Roos.” Before he could reply you walked over to the bar ordering a drink but also looking for the man who’d taken your heart so effortlessly.
When your eyes scanned the other side of the bar your heart nearly stopped when you finally spotted the guy you’d been looking for. He was sitting there talking, no laughing, with a beautiful blonde woman. Your mouth ran dry as your heart rate picked up at a rapid pace. She was absolutely breathtaking. Far, far more beautiful than you could ever hope to even come close to. If he was chatting her up so easily then how in the hell did you ever think you stood chance with man? Nat was right. You were just you.
You’d let Nat’s words get to your head and get yourself into thinking he’d actually want you. How could you have been so damn stupid? Your eyes watched them carefully as they both seemed overjoyed to be in such an intense conversation going on.
It was Penny who knocked you out of the longing stare that had your thoughts consumed so entirely, “Drink?” She asked.
“Uh, actually I’m alright. Thanks Pen.” You waved her off not wanting to get stuck here longer than you wanted.
She gave you a confused looked before turning away back to her paying customers. You walked out in a half daze thinking about the pretty blonde woman who had captured Jake’s attention whole so easily. You’d managed to avoid everybody on your way out including your ever so nosy friend. You decided to walk home, it was only about a half mile back to your apartment. You’d done it a hundred times before. You were just usually a little drunk and not so heartbroken.
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In your mind it was best to simply turn your phone to silent and flip it over while you watched reruns of your favorite shows once you got home. You’d decided it was best to throw yourself a little mini pity party mourning a relationship that’d never be. So that’s exactly what you did. Ignored your phone and watched television. That was your first mistake. Your second was ignoring the knocks on the door. Instead, you turned the TV up just a little louder pretending you couldn’t hear it. Once the heavy banging on the door commenced you knew you could no longer ignore it.
You flung the door open in irritation not knowing who exactly it was but assuming it was Nat, “Would you quiet down? You’re going to get me in trouble…” The words stopped dead in your mouth as you observed Jake on the other side of the door and not Nat. Jake. Shit.
“You didn’t answer my texts.” He frowned giving you a once over scan that you would’ve missed if your eyes weren’t so trained on his. He was checking to make sure you were physically fine. You knew that.
“I turned my phone on silent. Wanted a night to myself.” You answered him before continuing with your own question, “What are you doing here?”
“Or my calls. You ignored my calls.” His frown deepened as he scanned your apartment behind you now. What was he looking for?
You sighed now, getting a little frustrated with his seemingly impromptu visit, “I told you. My phone is on silent in another room.”
That snapped him out of whatever he was doing. You usually didn’t have such a hostile tone with him. Everything with you was usually so gentle. The hostility was left for the skies, “Why? Why weren’t you at the Hard Deck tonight? Nat said you came in with her?” He looked so confused, almost hurt?
You nodded, “I did. I just felt, unwell.” It wasn’t an outright lie. Seeing Jake with that beautiful blonde woman made you more nauseous than you’d like to admit.
“Oh okay.” He frowned giving you another once over, “Are you alright?” He took a step to the side looking almost bashful. Not as confident as he normally came off. It was odd to see him so out of sorts. What was the reason? Surely it couldn’t have been you.
You took a moment to contemplate his question. You were fine, certainly. Just a little devastated for something that would never occur. A future you yearned for that would never begin. But you were fine.
“I’m alright. Why are you here Jake?” You asked once more not stepping away from the front door. Not letting him in but not shooing him away either. You’d usually let him waltz through without a worry, but something was stopping you.
“To check in. I got worried when you wouldn’t answer. You always do.” He answered without a beat. He didn’t look l
“Oh.” You nodded at him. That was kind. That was very much like him, “Sorry to make you stop by.”
He shook his head, “It’s alright.” He kept looking you over. You were playing with the hem of your shirt again. Things were awkward. Uncomfortable. You were nervous and he wasn’t saying what he wanted. Unsure of what to say you just looked down. Not ending the conversation but not making it move forward either.
“Well, goodnight.” You said after a few moments of painful silence. There wasn’t usually this much tension between the two of you. It felt wrong. There was never usually such an air of awkwardness such as there was now.
“No, wait.” He put his hand on the doorframe so you couldn’t shut the door. Not that you were planning to shut it in his face, “Is everything alright Y/N? I don’t… I don’t know what happened or what I did.” He paused giving you a genuine look of confusion and concern. A look you weren’t terribly familiar with from the man.
He was right. How would he know? You were being weird and secretive. And now that you knew he was probably dating that girl you couldn’t air out your love to him. That’d just ruin the friendship you’d grown to love with him.
So instead, you had to deflect a bit, “I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
He turned his head in confusion at that, “Pardon?”
“Uh,” Might as well spit out some of the truth, “Tonight. Was going to tell you I was heading home but then I saw you talking to the woman. She was pretty.” You added the last sentence in almost silence hoping he couldn’t detect the jealousy radiating from your body. It wasn’t easy to hide, no.
He crinkled his eyes together, “Who?”
Was he playing dumb? Could the interaction have been so minute that he didn’t even recognize just how gorgeous the woman was? You bit the inside of your mouth to hide your dissatisfied frown, “The blonde woman you were talking to in the booth?”
He cocked his head to the side. First a wave of confusion crossed his face then recognition of the interaction must’ve crossed as his once confused face turned to realization, “You mean Amy?” His smile turned to a knowing smirk once he put two and two together. Jake was anything but dumb. In fact, he was quite intelligent. It hit him as to why your mood would have turned so sour towards him so quickly.
“Amy?” You asked playing right into his hand. He had you now and you didn’t even know it.
He nodded leaning onto the side of the apartment building, “Yup. She was my commanding officer back in Virginia. We were catching up for a moment.” He nodded his head watching you as he reveled in your realization of who he chatting with. He also knew how pretty she was. Jake had thought so since the moment he had laid eyes on her all those years ago. There was a slight problem though, she wasn’t exactly into men. And she wasn’t afraid to let those around her know it. Apparently, you hadn’t picked up on it though. And Jake decided he’d tease you about it for a bit.
“Oh.” You said again as you took a step back while crossing your arms over your chest. It wasn’t exactly an invitation inside the apartment, but it wasn’t not either. Jakes eyebrows quirked up quickly as he realized he was getting somewhere with you. It was cute. You were jealous. You’d been so good at hiding any emotion he wasn’t sure if you actually liked him back. Nat had assured him that you did, and you were just afraid at showing it. Afraid of the consequences once you dove headfirst in. But this was a sign, albeit a small one.
He bobbed his head up and down while taking a small step forward, “Oh indeed.” He gave you a wry smile as his eyes traced over your face, “She was just telling me about how she and her wife were looking at adopting once they get settled out here.”
Your eyes rose in recognition of what he had told you, “Her wife?”
He took another small step forward, shrinking the already small space between the two of you, “Of three years. I was invited to the wedding. It was nice.” He grinned knowing he had you now. Your little outburst and show looked a little silly. He knew you felt embarrassed because he knew you. He adored you. He had begun to love you.
You looked down letting a small sigh of defeat out. You did feel embarrassed. Mortified actually. This is why you didn’t jump to conclusions. This right here. You stepped away from the door officially inviting him inside. He’d done nothing wrong. And even if he was flirting with a pretty blonde girl he would’ve done nothing wrong. You didn’t have any claim over him. Crap. You’d just made an unknowing mess of everything.
Jake didn’t hesitate at your invitation in. A sort of nonverbal apology he happily accepted. He sat down on the couch opposite of you giving you a smile, “You don’t look sick.” He said to you.
“I feel better.” You gave him a quick nod knowing your cheeks were beginning to flush right in front of him.
“Did your illness have anything to do with Amy?” He pressed deciding he wanted to cross the invisible line between the two of you tonight. Your acting out showed him just how much you actually did like him.
“No!” You were quick to answer, far too quick.
His little grin grew into that signature Jake smirk. The one that was often reflected at you in a much different light. Not like this. Not like he’d caught you doing something because he actually did.
“You sure about that?” He leaned so far froward you were sure he was trying to touch you now. Egg you on. Press your buttons. Cross the line. Maybe Nat wasn’t wrong? Maybe he did have feelings?
With wide eyes you shook your head, “No.”
He scooted over on the couch, so he was sitting next to you now. He reached out, placing a hand on your knee, “You seem… a little jealous?”
Your eyes were staring right at his hand that seemed to engulf your knee. You tried to answer him, really. But when you opened your mouth not a sound would come out. You shut your mouth in an instant before turning to him knowing he was right. You were a little jealous. But did you really have to admit it to him?
He leaned a bit closer to you, running his hand just a touch up your leg, before whispering in your ear, “For what it’s worth, I think it’s adorable that you’re a little jealous.”
Thankful for him giving you a little relief you finally found your words again, “You do?”
The smirk turned down into a soft smile as he saw the lack of confidence in your face. Had he not done enough to assure you of how he really felt? He’d thought he made it pretty obvious.
“I do. I think it’s really cute. Wanna know another little secret I’ve been keeping from you?” He asked you.
Your heart rate involuntarily picked up at that, “Yes.” It sounded more of a whisper than anything else. But you couldn’t quite help it. You were nervous. He made you terribly nervous.
“I think you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever got to know.” He smiled watching your reaction. It was nice seeing you so expressive with him. You’d always been so cautious and reserved with him. Collected and calculated. But you no longer had to be. Not when he’d been so outright with it now.
“Now, I know you’re joking.” You laughed not so sure of his admission to you. But his face said otherwise.
“Have I lied to you before?” He asked knowing the answer was an easy no.
You shook your head in response, “No.”
He smiled softly moving his hand from your leg to your hand, “Why would I start now then?”
You gulped at the seriousness in his tone and through his expression. He wasn’t lying. He was out here admitting his feelings towards you. Damn. Nat was right. More than right. You were a fucking idiot.
Before you could stop the words that came out of your mouth you finally admitted to him how you’d been feeling, “I like you.”
He smile before capturing your face in his free hand, “A little jealousy always helps.” Brushing your lip with his thumb he studied your face intently, “I like you too. I like you more than you can even imagine.”
A breath of relief washed out of you as the words you’d been dying to hear left his lips, “That’s good to hear.”
He started laughing. A good old hearty laugh that filled you with your own sense of joy and giggles, “Let me take you out on a real proper date darlin’?” He asked once the shared laughter between the two of you had died down.
You nodded quickly, breathlessly as you took in his lovestruck gaze, “I’d like that.”
His other hand joined him as he cupped your face in his embrace. You were truly vulnerable as hell to him, a position you’d tried to avoid from the get-go. But you couldn’t help it. You were falling for him, fast.
“You have no idea how bad I want to kiss you right now pretty girl.”
You leaned towards him without a second thought, “Then do it.”
He thought for a second before shaking his head, “Can’t kiss you without taking you out first darlin’.”
You bit your lip knowing it’d drive him past his breaking point, “Please? You don’t have to be a gentleman tonight.”
He groaned, tightening his embrace on your face as carefully as he could, “How can I say no when you ask like that?”
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Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem
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jupitercomet · 6 months
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𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐲
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summary - Jake Seresin never expected much. Born the second son to the United State's current first family, Jake watched opportunity after opportunity get passed on to his older brother - including protection from the draft. While Jake was busy serving in Vietnam, he had no idea he'd be coming home to an American public that suddenly adored him. With his father's second presidential campaign on the horizon, Jake's new found popularity has his family scrambling to keep up his "Golden Boy" appearance. Without a word of his own input, Jake returns home to an almost entirely fabricated life, a public that now loves him, and a fiancée he's never even met before.
warnings - 70s au, president's son au, language, fluff, angst, drugs/drug abuse, ptsd, talks and depictions of war, gender roles, toxic family relationships, depictions of abuse, chapter specific
last update - 10/17/23
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series;
deep six golden boy update
extra;
playlist mood board
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join my Jake Seresin taglist here or follow my library @jupitercometgold
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tongue-like-a-razor · 9 months
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Less Talk | Part VIII
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
A/N: Wooooh we're finally back! Hope y'all enjoy this infuriating little tale of will they won't they XD
Summary: Jake can't stand Bradley's best friend. What's more, he's probably in love with her, which really pisses him off.
CW: Swearing, suggestive dialogue and actions, it's an angsty one
Masterlist | Part I
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Jake senses Bradley stiffen in the seat to his right and suppresses a scowl. He's been regulating the outward expression of his feelings for you since the day you met, so what's a couple more hours?
Bradley cranes his neck, watching you step out of the car while Mustang examines his taillights with a frown. You shut your own door and join him near the trunk when he finally straightens his back. Then the two of you head for the entrance.
“I fucking knew it,” Bradley mutters.
Jake releases a steady breath, trying his best to mask his own misery. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on with her?” he says casually.
Bradley looks at Jake with a sour expression. “You spend more time with her than I do these days. You tell me.”
Jake swears under his breath as Bradley rises from his chair. For a moment, he considers completely ignoring you and your piece of shit excuse for a boyfriend. ­Ex-boyfriend, he reminds himself adamantly, finally getting out of his seat. He's not sure why Bradley's so distraught by Mustang's presence, but he's getting tired of all the mystery.
He looks up when you walk into the restaurant, his eyes meeting yours the moment you enter. You’ve got your arm hooked through Mustang’s and Jake nearly sits back down.
But the smug look on Mustang’s face makes him reconsider. Jake Seresin isn’t one to shy away from a fight, if that’s what it comes down to. And whatever your reason is for arriving with this jackass, Jake deserves to know it. He steps around the table and marches alongside Bradley as he approaches the two of you.
You glance between Bradley and Jake innocently, as though you’ve absolutely no idea why the two men are stopping you before you even reach the table.
“Is everything okay here?” Bradley asks commandingly, his eyes sliding between you and Mustang.
You give him a jolly smile that is so far from genuine, it borders on comical, and say, “Of course.” Jake narrows his eyes at you, but you avoid his gaze and blink up at Mustang instead. “Shall we find a seat?” You're carrying a gift bag that's big enough to fit a small toddler and you look as though it might tip you over at any moment.
“Hold it,” Jake says sternly.
Mustang gives him a sharp look, but Jake keeps his eyes on you. You meet his gaze reluctantly.
For a split second, Jake wonders if he’s the crazy one. If he’s been so infatuated with you that he’s completely misread the situation. Maybe he’s got no reason to be upset. Maybe it was just a kiss. Two, he reminds himself adamantly. It was two.
You transfer the gift bag from one hand to the other impatiently and shake out the unburdened arm.
Jake reaches for the gift bag and takes it out of your grasp, holding it out to Mustang pointedly. This idiot can't take a hint, apparently.
Mustang stares at the bag and then blinks up at Jake, so Jake shoves it forcefully into his stomach. “Try to make yourself useful, son,” he says flatly.
Mustang takes the bag obediently even though his features are still twisted in confusion.
“Can I steal you for a minute?” Jake asks, returning his attention to you.
Mustang snaps out of his trance and steps forward as if to assert his dominance, but you place a hand on his arm and nod mutely. “I'll meet you at the table,” you say gingerly.
Jake gestures for you to lead the way, not even bothering to grace Mustang with a farewell.
You take a few steps away and stop, but Jake is right behind you and gives you a slight nudge to keep you moving. You glance up at him and he nods toward the back of the restaurant. You oblige, navigating the narrow spaces between the tables on your way to the rear while Jake keeps a couple of fingers on your lower back.
You round the corner into the corridor leading into the kitchen and turn to look at him with a blank expression. Jake studies you quietly for a moment, wondering if you might try to explain yourself before he has to ask. When you raise your eyebrows questioningly, he scoffs, saying, “What the fuck?”
You appear taken aback by his brusqueness, but he isn’t overly concerned with hurting your delicate feelings. In fact, riling you is probably the easiest way to get you to talk.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” he asks, taking a step forward.
You compensate by taking a step back. “We’re working things out,” you respond nonchalantly, as though Jake should have seen this coming.
Jake watches you broodingly until you finally lower your gaze. “No, you’re not,” he says finally.
You look up at him abruptly and he can sense the hostility in your eyes. “What do you want, Seresin?” you ask irritably, like he’s getting on your last nerve.
“I want you to tell me what he’s doing here,” he repeats, taking another step toward you.
You swallow uncomfortably but don’t retreat again. “We decided to give it another shot,” you say, shrugging.
Jake shakes his head when you avert your gaze once more. “You’re lying,” he says. He knows you, and something about you feels off.
You let out a frustrated sigh but obstinately keep your eyes on the ground.
“What about yesterday?” he asks.
You glance up at him reproachfully. “What about it?” you say with a grimace.
Jake takes a final step forward, towering over you while you lift your face to maintain eye contact. “Want me to remind you?” he says quietly, each strike of his accelerating heartbeat growing closer to his throat.
You roll your eyes, apparently completely unfazed by his advances. “It was just a kiss, Seresin,” you say. “It didn’t mean anything.”
Jake makes another attempt. “It was two,” he points out.
You sigh, glancing over Jake’s shoulder anxiously to check that the two of you are still alone. “One, two, twenty – who cares?” you say jadedly.
Jake tightens his jaw, not even attempting to conceal the bitterness in his voice. “Are you really just gonna stand here and pretend like you don’t feel it too?” he says. Normally, he’d have walked away by now. But he’ll be damned if this doesn't work out on account of your stupid ego. Or his, for that matter.
“Come on, Jake,” you say cynically, crossing your arms. “You’re not the feeling type.”
Jake exhales forcefully; you’re not wrong, but he doesn't want to get into it. How could he possibly explain that this assessment is no longer as accurate as he’s led you to believe? How could he tell you that things have changed in recent weeks – that he’s changed?
He can’t. Not without baring his soul. And he’s not prepared to do that for anybody.
“You’re right,” he murmurs, taking your elbow gently and drawing you forward. He detects a hint of citrus as you near and it dizzies him. “I actually don’t give a shit about you at all.”
He sees the twitch of your lips as you attempt to hold back a smile and lowers his head to rest it over yours. “There he is,” you mutter softly.
“Couldn't care less,” he adds, coasting his fingers up your arms as you unfold them.
“Sounds about right,” you breathe, and he can feel your fingers slowly twist into the material of his dress shirt. It’s all he can do not to steer you backward into the wall and run his hands up the curves of your waist and capture your mouth in his and –
He lets the tip of his nose brush the bridge of yours lightly while the torrent inside him rages on. “You drive me up the wall, I swear,” he admits, his voice cracking as a short-lived chuckle escapes with his words.
“It comes naturally,” you respond, and he can hear your smile without having to see it.
“I bet.”
“I can’t stand you,” you mutter as your fingers tangle further into the gaps between the buttons of his shirt.
Jake closes his eyes when said fingers make contact with his skin. “I don’t blame you,” he whispers, his mouth hovering just above yours.
Your hands relax slightly as your fingers graze his stomach through the slits of his shirt. “Anything else?” you ask, your eyes lifting to meet his gaze.
Jake nods slowly. “You’re really fucking annoying,” he says, bringing his hand up to trace the outline of your face.
Your smile widens. “I’m sorry about that.”
Jake shakes his head. “Don’t be,” he whispers, sliding his hand behind your head and pulling you forward. But, being the complete idiot he is, just before kissing you, he asks again, “Why’d you bring him?”
You let your face fall slightly, so that your forehead lands right on his lips. He doesn’t miss this opportunity to kiss it. “He and I aren’t together anymore, Jake,” you respond. “We’re just here as friends,” you add, but you still withdraw slightly.
Jake isn’t sure how to respond and his hands fall away from you as you retreat. Your message is fairly straightforward, but your tone has an air of ambiguity to it which gives him pause.
“He’s trying to be nice,” you continue. “He offered me a ride.”
“I could’ve given you a ride,” Jake says impulsively; defensively. There’s no way this asshole is here because you were short on a mode of transportation.
You sigh. “There’s more to it.”
“No shit,” he responds.
“Look, I don’t have to explain myself to you,” you snap. “Just – don’t get involved. Please.”
Jake fixes you with a defiant sort of scowl. “Did he threaten you?” he asks, his voice somewhat gravelly as he tries to suppress his anger.
“It’s not like that,” you say quickly. “Let it go.”
Jake juts out his jaw and sucks in his cheeks, nodding. “Okay,” he says finally. “Go ahead and enjoy your friend’s company, then.” He gestures for you to go back into the dining room.
You give him a sardonic look and approach him with a small smile. “Try to behave,” you say in a soft, sultry voice that sends a ripple through his body.
He turns to follow you and lowers his head to mutter, “Did you give Mustang the same instructions?” just as the two of you enter the dining room.
You glance up at him with a chuckle. “I’m far more concerned about you.”
Jake grins. “You’re concerned about me?” He claps a hand to his chest. “I’m touched.”
You roll your eyes as the two of you approach the table. “Behave,” you repeat.
Jake pulls a chair out for you as you greet the rest of the party. He leans in to whisper, “No promises,” as you lower yourself into the seat beside Bradley.
“They’re not together,” Bradley states with a hint of skepticism as he observes your interaction with Mustang at the bar.
Jake watches the two of you sourly. “They’re just friends,” he confirms as Mustang aims a broad grin in your direction and hands you a tropical looking drink.
“He’s a chauffeur,” Bradley adds with a shrug.
Jake nods, still staring you down as you take a sip and smile, pretending to enjoy the beverage. “She hates orange juice,” Jake states.
Bradley raises his eyebrows and looks over at him.
“Why doesn’t she just tell him that she hates orange juice?” Jake asks irritably, shifting his weight restlessly as he debates walking right up to Mustang and communicating the information, himself.
Bradley glances back at you. “She doesn’t seem to mind it.”
Jake narrows his eyes, marvelling at how easily you carry out the charade, wondering what your angle is.
“Is that cake?” Bradley says suddenly, interrupting Jake’s train of thought.
Impassively, Jake looks over at the table where the party guests have begun to help themselves to the assortment of desserts. “It’s from the bakery across the street,” he mutters, returning his attention to the bar where Mustang appears to be sliding closer and closer to you, nearly pinning you to the counter.
“You brought cake?” Bradley sounds bemused.
Jake sighs loudly. “Of course, I brought cake, Bradshaw. It’s a damn birthday.” Meanwhile, he sees you laughing at something Mustang said as though you actually think he’s funny.
“What kind?”
Jake looks back at Bradley absently. “What?”
“The cake?” Bradley asks.
Jake grimaces. “How should I know?”
Bradley stares at him in confusion. “Are you okay?”
“Is he flirting with her?” Jake says distractedly, watching as Mustang places his hand on your back and leans his head in to whisper something in your ear.
Bradley looks back over at you and shrugs. “I wasn’t buying the whole friend thing, anyway,” he says.
Jake grunts in response. “You want cake?” he asks, seeing you pull Mustang toward the table of sweets.
Bradley hesitates. “It depends what kind –”
But Jake doesn’t let him finish. “Yeah, me too,” he says, starting to shove Bradley in the direction of the dessert table. He arrives at the same time you do and gives you a tarty look while Bradley clears his throat uncomfortably.
“How’s it going?” Bradley flashes a quick grin in Mustang’s direction.
You eye Jake nervously before lowering your gaze and it nearly kills him that Mustang’s got his hand planted snugly on your hip. Just friends don’t grope one another, and Jake is about to point this little tidbit out when Mustang speaks. “I think we need to start over,” he says in a grandiose tone, extending his hand to Jake.
Jake slowly tears his eyes away from you to give Mustang a stony look. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” he responds coldly. He can feel your aggravation without even looking at you, but this doesn’t discourage him in the slightest. Your soft spot for Mustang is slowly eating away at him and he can’t help the animosity that’s burning up his veins.
Mustang laughs off Jake’s curt response and puts a second arm around you, as though he means to claim his territory. Jake narrows his eyes at him, clenching his jaw as he watches you pat Mustang on the belly before casually squirming out of his embrace. You give Jake a stern expression and then aim a gracious smile at Mustang. “Don’t mind him,” you say. “Jake doesn’t play nice with anybody.”
Jake rolls his eyes despite the pointed glance he receives from Bradley.
“Can’t we all just get along?” Mustang offers, shooting Jake a smarmy grin.
You nod your head at Mustang, apparently completely missing the blatant insincerity of his statement, and Jake could swear this gesture makes his blood boil. He shifts closer to you and, before he can stop himself, he lifts his hand and hooks a finger through one of the belt loops on the back of your shorts, giving you a small, but purposeful tug.
You glance at him over your shoulder but, otherwise, act like nothing is amiss. Of course, despite being amply aware that this sort of stunt isn’t altogether becoming, the fact that you don’t seem overly opposed to his discreetly possessive behavior gives him a fair bit of comfort. So much so that he even gives the loop another soft pull, bringing your back into his chest. It’s a microscopic movement since the four of you are already jammed so close together in the midst of the crowd, but he swears that you lean into him for a moment, letting your shoulder blades rest on his pecs before you straighten your posture.
“Want to catch a movie tonight?” Mustang asks you, grabbing a plate for himself once he reaches the table.
“She’s busy,” Jake responds before you can say anything. He takes a plate from the stack and hands it to you, ignoring your arching eyebrows as you give him an incredulous look.
He also ignores Bradley’s amused expression even as the latter turns away, pretending not to have heard the exchange.
When you open your mouth to protest, Jake meets your gaze and says, “Trust me, you’re busy.”
You purse your lips, but Jake can tell that you’re suppressing a smile, so he swipes his thumb over the delicate skin of your lower back, just above the waistband of your shorts. He savors the fleeting lapse in your façade; the subtle flutter of your eyelids as you experience the thrill of his touch – however faint it might be. And it rattles him. Your momentary slip, the nearly imperceptible manifestation of pleasure that hijacks your features, rattles him, as though the arousal had been his own.
And he wants more. He wants to witness every cadence of bliss on your face. He wants to savor every single intake of breath. He wants you, alone, uninhibited.
His grasp constricts around the loop of your waistband, tightening its circumference around your waist. You submit willingly to this additional tug, letting your backside connect with his body as if you want him to pull you closer. To hold you firmer. To grip you harder.
“Can I buy you a proper drink?” Jake asks, approaching your seated figure at the bar.
Your gaze drifts up Jake’s body as he situates himself on the stool beside you. You let out a humorless laugh, pointedly pushing away the Screwdriver you’ve been nursing for the past hour.
“Having a good time?” he asks after hailing over the bartender to put in the drink order.
You eye him warily before dropping your gaze into your lap and dragging your teeth over your bottom lip. Jake glances around to confirm that there’s nobody nearby. He hooks a hand behind your calf and rotates you to face him on your stool. You lift your eyes carefully. “Are you?”
Jake holds your gaze. “Not particularly.”
You lift your eyebrows unsympathetically. “You should work on your people skills. Might make social gatherings more enjoyable.”
Jake suppresses a grin. “Are you lecturing me on people skills?”
“As a matter of fact, I get along with everybody but you,” you respond haughtily.
Jake smiles, his gaze drifting down to your mouth as you try to keep a straight face. “That’s because you’re not comfortable being yourself with anybody else.” His hand is still tucked into the crevice behind your knee, and he squeezes the muscle of your leg gently.
You scoff, shaking your head. “You’re so fucking full of yourself.”
Jake skims his fingers along the underside of your thigh. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Your eyes slide over Jake’s shoulder. “He’s just outside,” you say, your voice suddenly on edge.
Jake tilts his head to the side as though he’s puzzled. He’s not; in fact, he was waiting for this reaction. “Your driver?” he asks brazenly.
You give him a flat look. “Oh, you’re being a dick. What a surprise.”
Jake shrugs, curbing the nausea in the pit of his stomach – which definitely doesn’t need a label – with a gulp of beer. He’s not the jealous type. “Why would ‘just a friend’ take issue with our conversation?”
You watch him coolly without responding. Finally, you turn back to the counter and Jake drops his hand from your leg.
Despite his frequent quips about your tendency to distribute your opinion like it’s a courtesy to mankind, the irony of finding himself wondering what’s actually on your mind is not lost on him. Not your stance on the import of exotic fruit or the numerous ways he could reduce his carbon footprint. Not even your unfortunate disdain for his beloved truck, although he might circle back to that one at a later date.
No. These aren’t the things that matter. Not immediately, anyway. What you’re holding back is far more personal. And, with an unpleasant – and therefore significant – pang, Jake realizes that he wants to know. That he isn’t just a stand-in, waiting for Bradley to swoop in and provide timely emotional support. He isn’t an acquaintance making small talk just to pass the time. He isn’t a friend of a friend. Not anymore. Not for a long time. And he cares. He cares about you and your feelings and he cares about your ridiculous principles. He’s unplugged his goddamn table fan, for crying out loud. He mowed his lawn.
“Why did you bring him?” he asks. It’s the same question as before but it’s vulnerable this time around. He’s not demanding an answer. He’s begging for one.
Absently, you twist the stem of your fresh glass between your fingers. For a moment, Jake thinks you might ignore the question. Then, you let out a heavy sigh. “I need him,�� you say.
Jake narrows his eyes. Need can take on many forms and he could use an elaboration. “In what sense?” he asks, a little hurt that you don’t seem to need him.
“Can we just move on?” you say irritably, taking a sip of your drink.
Jake shifts his jaw, considering your request. Finally, he shakes his head. “I can’t.”
You look over at him sharply and he can tell that his response has taken you by surprise. If he’s being honest, it’s a bit of a shock to him as well. He’s not one to dwell on matters that don’t concern him. He’s not one to pry. So why won’t he just drop it?
But he’s on his feet before he can process his own actions. He’s speaking before he can gather his thoughts. “You know where I stand, princess,” he says in a low, but assertive voice, somewhere far too close to your ear to resemble a friendly exchange. His hand drifts along the hem of your shorts before he finally turns to walk away.
It takes exactly two seconds for you to call out, “Jake!”
He rotates slowly to look at you, swallowing uncomfortably as he awaits your next move. He watches you calmly, trying his best to quell the hope that’s disturbing his breathing.
You’re gazing at him anxiously, as though the last thing you want is for him to depart. And the regret on your face makes him believe you might reconsider keeping him in the dark. So, against his better judgement, he takes a step back toward you.
And what a relief this brings; as though you’ve got him hooked on a tension cable. But before he can take another step, he hears the front door open, and Mustang’s voice carry confidently over the other patrons’ conversations.
“There’s something I need to get off my chest!” he announces as he makes his way toward the bar.
Jake witnesses the lightning transformation of your face as he nears: confusion – alarm – a forced but terrified smile.
Mustang crashes into the counter clumsily and throws a heavy arm over your shoulders, the weight of which makes you wince. You whisper something indiscernible to him, but he waves a dismissive hand at you before you even finish.
“We wanted to wait until after the party,” he continues in a booming voice as your eyes slide nervously to Jake and then search the restaurant for Bradley. “Because we didn’t want to take away from Mickey’s birthday celebration…”
“What the fuck is going on?” Jake turns to see Bradley at his side.
Jake shakes his head. “He’s hammered.”
Bradley looks down at his watch. “It’s barely noon.”
Jake narrows his eyes as he watches you fidget under Mustang’s arm. This can’t be what you want out of life. It just can’t.
“But I suck at keeping secrets,” Mustang continues with a chuckle.
This piques Jake’s interest. If you’re not going to share with the class, perhaps he can get the necessary intel from Mustang. And he’s almost pleased with this turn of events. Until, that is, Mustang speaks again. And shortly thereafter, Jake feels like he might just throw up.
Mustang grins broadly and looks down at you lovingly. He cups your cheek with his hand tenderly. He kisses your forehead. And then he turns back to the growing crowd of spectators. “We’re engaged!” he declares. “We’re getting married!”
Read Part 9
A/N: Thank you for reading! Hope you guys liked this chapter! Sometimes I wanna shake these two and say, in my best Mav voice, "Don't think just talk!" They still have a ways to go.. Until next time! xoxo
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of-many-aus · 2 months
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Ice Ice, Baby
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.
“Ow-“
“Stop moving.”
“But it hurts-“
“Maybe it would stop hurting if you weren’t moving.”
Jake hissed as you pressed the ice pack to his skin once more, craning his neck to try and see what you were doing, eyes narrowing in an almost accusatory fashion, “You know, this wouldn’t have happened if you were there.”
You slowly looked up at him, a singular eyebrow raised, “Me being there wouldn’t have changed the fact that the guy took a cheap shot and chucked the ball at your turned back.”
“Nuh-uh.” He argued childishly, “You wouldn’t have let it happen if you had been at the game.”
A roll of your eyes was what he was met with, “It would’ve still happened-“
“You’re my guardian Angel.” He reminded you, as if you would forget when he called you that every other sentence, “When does anything ever go wrong when you’re watching my games?”
“Last game.” You were remembering when poor Bradley was practicing his swing before being up at bat, the man was all hopped up on caffeine, and had gotten too excited and swung the bat so hard and quick it came around and he hit himself right in the face.
“Nothing ever happens to me.” Jake amended, shaking his head slightly at the memory of his sometimes idiotic teammate.
Jake was holding his shirt, partially rolled up as he sat on the kitchen table chair, you in your own chair right next to him, holding an ice pack against the spot on his lower back that already had begun to bloom with a nasty bruise, the spot being too low for him to reach himself.
“Me being there wouldn’t change anything.” You rolled your eyes as you repeated yourself once more.
The man craned his neck once more and threw a playful wink your way, “He would’ve known not to mess with me while my guardian Angel was present.”
This time, you had to tilt your head down and desperately try to bite back a smile, hoping your roommate didn’t notice the way your cheeks warmed slightly.
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sunlightmurdock · 1 month
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Operation Apollo | 2.9 | Jake Seresin x Reader
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Synopsis: After a threat is made against her life, the President’s grown up daughter gets her security tripled. Her long term detail is about to retire and needs replacing, only — she isn’t the easiest to work with. Ex-Navy and current Secret Service, Jake Seresin is devoted to being the best at everything he does. He isn’t going to let a bratty little girl cost him this job.
Warnings: age gap, power imbalance, enemies to lovers, danger and angst, manipulation, sucky parents, grief and manipulation, lying, distressing themes throughout but especially towards the end of the chapter. Graphic violence, dangerous situations, revenge, wc: 3.5k
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Jake doesn’t sleep well anymore. This seems to be a settled fact. From the day that Dani died, he just doesn’t rest like he used to. When he was with you, things got better, for a bit. They’re bad again now.
Now, he spends his nights tossing and turning and wandering to the bathroom of his hotel room to splash water on his face to remind himself that his nightmares aren’t real. It’s been two days since he heard your voice, and growing harder to convince himself of reality.
Allen promised to check in in the morning. It’s technically morning now, as the breaching sun threatens the skyline. Morning. It’s too fucking vague. Dawn and 11:59 leaves Jake a lot of time to pace the San Diego shore.
Nothing settles him these days.
He leans his palms forwards on the bathroom counter, and cocks his head to the side. His therapist had once told him that it wasn’t helpful to try to remember the day Dani had died. It always ate at him that he couldn’t really remember receiving the news. He remembered the before, and god, he wishes he didn’t remember the after — but he could never remember hearing the news for the first time.
He remembers the abruptness of it all.
Convincing himself that her voice was still fresh in his mind in the evenings was the only way he could keep her alive. It hadn’t worked much. He doesn’t think of her in the evenings much anymore, and she’s still dead.
When your voice echoed in his ear a few minutes ago, it’s the first thing he thought of — that her voice outlived her.
The cold water drips down his chin, saturating days old stubble, falling in thin droplets onto his naked chest. His eyes are narrowed, smaller than normal and heavy with sleep. His shoulders are hunched. His skin looks barren without the trace of your touch.
His bed is unmade and the sheets are wrinkled from the sleepless night he’s leaving behind. He inhales deeply and considers just taking a shower and starting his day before the morning sun.
Then, his night-morning medley is interrupted. Three calm knocks on the door. He closes his eyes, shutting out his reflection and the fluorescent noise of the bathroom, and tries to reason with himself.
Two further knocks confirm to him that the sound is real. It’s not part of another one of his bad dreams.
Jake walks barefooted out of the bathroom, and leans up to the peephole. He’s unsure, really, of who he is expecting to see outside of the door at five in the morning, but the sight of two secret service agents standing there makes his blood run cold and his mind fill with thoughts of the first woman that he loved.
Though he can’t remember that day, he knows it was less of a formal affair. He can’t take more bad news. He pulls back the chain and turns the lock with little thought about what they could be there for, not wanting to let his mind linger on the worst possibility.
“Agent Seresin,” The taller one says, his thin lips stretching into a tighter line as he looks the man before him up and down. If Jake had been sleeping better, maybe he would have gotten dressed before answering the door. The morning air chills his bare chest and thighs, his underwear doing little in terms of providing warmth. “You’ll have to come with us, sir.”
Sir. The word makes the hair at the back of Jake’s neck prickle, and his stomach tighten. Sir, please calm down. He remembers hearing that on the day Dani died.
“Where is she?” Jake asks.
“We can’t say.” The shorter, dark-haired one won’t meet Jake’s gaze. That’s good. They would have told him if you were dead. “But we need you to come with us. Now.”
The entire West Coast network is abuzz as Jake is driven up to the house in the hills. As the count ticks over into seventeen hours since you were last seen, and four hours since that video was received, everybody who is anybody is working on your disappearance.
Allen was the first to report it yesterday. You had been gone for two hours already by the time he came to check on you, and found Jake’s bed empty. It’s his fault. He had assumed you were finally sleeping, and he had waited too long to check on you.
By the time he realised, you could have already been out of the country for all he knew. His experience in this field told him a lot of things — not a single one of them reassuring.
He first alerted the West Coast liaison. After confirming there were no active hits on your location in a six mile radius of the house, things went nationwide. He considered calling Jake then, but there were too many eyes on him to sneak a call.
Once nationwide, your parents had been alerted. Matthew landed on a private airstrip just after midnight, thirty-five minutes before the video footage was received. A dark, grainy two-minute long video with no timestamp.
The first thirty seconds is almost silent. The camera is focused, unmoving on your face. You’re staring at something above the lens, the man behind it, with pure venom in your eyes. You’re already hurt, bleeding from your nose and your hairline, your eye sore looking and swollen.
From the second that the voice first rings out, Matthew recognises exactly who it is. It’s the first question they ask of him — if he knows who could have wanted to hurt you. The answer is more complicated, because it’s not that Ellis would have wanted to hurt you specifically. Ellis would have wanted to hurt Matthew.
But, Ellis hurts all kinds of people every day, for reasons that span far beyond simple dislike. It’s why the debt between the two of them is something far beyond what money can settle.
The instructions on the video are clear.
Shadows dance across cracked concrete walls, the lone lightbulb wobbles on its wire above your head. Your wrists itch and burn, your arms stiff and your neck aching. You lost the feeling in your legs a while ago. The blood from your nose has dried around your mouth and chin, your eye has started to swell. Your head throbs.
You have been alone for two hours.
Occasionally, someone will pass by the door. No one seems to care much about checking on you. As the hours have dragged on, you’ve stopped moving so much. Getting out of your restraints is decidedly impossible. Your eyelids feel heavier and heavier with each slow blink.
“Don’t fall asleep.”
Your eyelids flutter, your vision blurred and unsteady as you search the shadows of the room for the voice. For his voice; Jake’s voice. Even like this, you know what he sounds like.
“Come on, honey,” Fingers brush across your hair, soft, unbothered by the blood crusted into your hairline. “Keep your eyes open. I know it hurts.”
It does hurt. You’ve never hurt like this before. Wrapped in bubble-wrap, hidden behind thick walls and tall fences — maybe if they hadn’t kept you so safe, it wouldn’t all hurt so bad now.
“Jake?” Your throat is dry, your voice is hoarse, the rag cuts into the corners of your lips.
“I’m here.” He isn’t, and the realisation makes you want to cry. You can pretend he’s here, and pretend he’s telling you to fight all you want. He isn’t here, and you’re tired.
Ellis’ terms have been circling your mind for all of the hours you have been alone. You, for her. Your father, in exchange for you, as to be delivered by Jake.
The government would never let it happen. Jake would never let it go. Your heavy eyelids droop shut and you leave them that way.
When they’re closed, you’re not here either. You’re at home, and in Jake’s bed. Your cheek is on his chest and he’s asleep, you rise and fall with each one of his breaths, your fingers smooth across the heart-shaped, thumb-sized birthmark on his hip.
The morning sun is shining, the bedroom walls are white and the mattress is soft. Jake’s right arm is draped around your shoulders, cradling you to his chest. There, it’s safe to fall asleep.
A little after nine, the bright sunlight spills into the living room. Another sunny morning, like the world hadn’t been turned upside down overnight. Jake has never felt quite so out of place in this house. It feels colder without you here. He stares at the dark, blank screen in front of him, sick to his stomach.
Your picture is gone, but the image is burned in his mind. Your bloodied, bruised face staring right at the lens, your lips pressed into line, adamantly refusing to speak. God, just speak. Do what they tell you to do. Please.
Slowly, he leans forwards and hits the button to replay the video. It’s his fourth time watching it, now. There it is again, your tear-filled eyes and the stubborn scowl on your exhausted face, the long fingers curled around your chin, angling your face towards the lens.
Jake has been filled in with some need-to-know information. Ellis Armstrong was an associate, and informant and a business partner of Matthew’s from before the elections. He’s a bad, bad man.
Outside of the need to know — Matthew is the only one who really knows the extent of what this guy will do, of what he has done on behalf of Matthew himself in the past. Of how far this debt reaches.
Matthew, I know that you’re far too much of a coward to face me in person. You have done an excellent job of avoiding me so far. How lucky I was that your clever little girl sought me out.
Jake turns his head. He studies the skulking man in the corner of the room, his head turned toward the ground and his fingers trembling as his hands wring together in front of him.
Things hadn’t ever seemed this serious back then. At the start of it all, it was just a little maintenance, making a little indiscretion disappear. Then, the favours had gotten bigger — and then they had stopped being favours at all.
Jake and Matthew are far from alone in this living room. They’re surrounded by agents with years of combined experience, government advisors and White House big-wigs. And yet, Jake is the only one that Matthew can’t bring himself to look at.
I know you won’t come to me yourself. That’s why she’s so perfect. We’ve all seen the news. If you won’t come to me yourself, the bodyguard will bring you to me. You, for her.
Apparently the message was supposed to reach Jake privately, which is why he was intercepted. He sits with the thought for a moment as he stares down the man who raised you; he would trade him in to keep you safe in a heartbeat.
That’s why the first point of call was to bring him here. Here, they have an eye on him. They can’t risk him trying anything stupid.
You have twenty-four hours to reach the location provided. Say goodbye, sweetheart. The faceless fingers curl into the hollows of your cheeks and Jake grits his teeth. His gaze flickers up, and this time Matthew is watching him.
“You’re going.” Jake tells him, from the spot on the couch where he had kissed you for the first time. Everything had unfurled here, in this house, up until Jake had taken you home.
It’s a shell of a home and it always was. Cold and white, almost clinical in its modernity. It’s the place you met but it’s not your home, and it’s not Jake’s. He just decided that. The two of you will have a real home.
His gaze is a cold green, steely and serious. There’s a movement around the room, uncomfortable murmurs of disagreement as the crowd prepares to stop the bodyguard. “This is your fault. You didn’t protect her, and she’s in danger. You’re going to fix this.”
“No, Agent, that’s not how we’re going to—” The serious looking man in the Armani suit, who considers himself responsible for Matthew’s safety here, doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence.
“I’m done with the plans.” Jake decides, pushing himself up from the couch. He makes no efforts to step towards the president, this isn’t a threatening motion, it’s merely a man who won’t stand back idly once again. He gives a cool shake of his head. “The plans are what got us here. You… deserve this. You fucking owe her this.”
Matthew swallows dryly, loosening his tie.
“Jake,” Allen steps up from his perch by the wall, giving a soft shake of his head as he reaches out to rest a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “We’ve got to keep our heads about this.”
It’s not a sudden thing, that the attitude in the room is that Jake is the crazy one here, but the mood shifts nonetheless as he rounds on the older man and points a finger squarely at him.
”Don’t. Don’t say a damn word to me — where were you?” he spits.
“I… she promised me—” Allen shakes his head dumbly, blaming himself more for this than your own father does. He’s blind with worry, that image of your bloodied face just won’t leave his mind.
“You promised me.” Jake bites.
Silence falls across the room for a beat. Manny wipes his nose with the back of his hand, squeezing his eyes shut as tears spill silently down his cheeks.
When he had gotten into this business, he had first felt invincible. A background in Tactical Ops and a pristine track record, he told everyone that he was perfect for the job. Then, he had met you and he had realised quickly he was out of his depth — but he liked you, and you reminded him that there was more to this line of work than the rules.
He hadn’t ever thought he would let you down like this.
“I’ll go.”
Jake turns his head. He isn’t impressed. He isn’t pleased. It’s barely enough, after what he has put you through. Looking at Jake, your father knows that.
“Mr. President—“
“Those were his terms,” His eyes are shut now. He can’t bare to look at the man before him, knowing that this wouldn’t be a difficult decision for him to make in the slightest. Jake would put his life on the line for you without thought. He shivers through an inhale, “We come up with a plan around them, and we get her out of there.”
“But, sir—“
“Figure it out. You can keep both of us safe. That’s your job.” Matthew exhales finally. Opening his eyes, he finds Jake once more and finds himself chilled to the core. The look on Jake’s face is finally, wholly sincere. If it came down to it, Jake wouldn’t give a fuck about keeping Matthew safe.
“Sir—“
“Figure it out, god damnit, or I’ll take myself.” Matthew bites out finally. It’s not like he has much of a choice in walking away from this, anyway.
When Jake closes his eyes, and thinks of you afraid and alone, it makes his choice easy.
Matthew feels like a clock within him has started ticking. As the men and women around him scramble to draw together a plan that will keep him and his daughter alive, he feels it counting down his last moments.
He tries not to look up, because when he does he finds Jake looking at him every time.
It’s like Jake can hear it too, that awful ticking. Time passing by. Counting down the moments.
“Catherine?” Matthew calls weakly, rubbing two fingers against his temple from his spot in the corner of the living room. His secretary turns attentively and graces him with her full attention. “I’d like to make a statement, and I’d like you to write it down. Do you understand?”
Jake can’t sit and listen to them anymore, but that’s not what makes go wandering. He starts out in the kitchen, looking out over the pool. The place he had first seen you. Then, he takes the stairs and winds up in his room. His bed is unmade here, as it was in his hotel.
His shoes are quiet against the floor as he walks over to the bed and lowers himself to the edge of it. His fingers smooth over the faint dips in the pillow, where your head had last laid.
Jake has money from his time in the Navy. From his work in the service. He hasn’t had much to spend it on. The job involves living with clients, expenses are usually covered, and his sisters won’t let him spoil his nieces too much. Enough for a house. One with a big bed, so you can stretch out all you want and still wind up draped across his chest.
The thought almost makes him smile, and then a lump in his throat threatens to make that smile spill into tears.
He hopes he gets that.
He can only imagine what you’re doing now. If you’re still stuck to that chair, if your eye is hurting you, if they have touched you again since. He’s not even sure if you have water. The one thing he does know is that you’ll be waiting for him. You’ll know that he’ll get you out of this.
A little after noon, the plan is as good as it is going to get. Twenty four hours since your disappearance, sixteen hours until Ellis’ imposed deadline.
Jake stands with his back to the front door as the President listens to the briefing once more. There are back-up plans on backup plans and protocols coming out of his ears, and Jake doesn’t care one bit.
Allen doesn’t like the look on his face.
“Jake,” The older man broaches the topic softly, trying not to alarm the already flighty ex-pilot. “I know you’re going to do what you need to do. I can’t stop you. But, if this goes south — and you’re responsible, you’ll never see her again.”
Jake knows what he’s trying to say. If he lets the President go, he’ll suffer the consequences. As much as he wants that house, and those lazy mornings in that big bed with you, he would let it all go if he could know that you would never be in danger because of this man again.
“I know the plan.” Jake tells him calmly.
Ellis isn’t an unintelligent man; he knows that if Jake was going to be able to deliver Matthew successfully, it wouldn’t be alone. That makes things a little easier — they don’t have to be as sneaky.
But, if Ellis has a feeling that the trade is a set up, they’ll both be dead. Jake won’t let that happen.
It’s just himself, and your father for the journey there. It’s two hours from your place, and there’s practically a motorcade escort most of the way. Once they hit the five mile out mark, security drops back, and for the first time — they feel alone.
“So, what did you actually do?” Jake squeezes his hands around the leather of the wheel, with no real interest in small talk. He shoots a look towards the cars in his peripheral, and then at each mirror. Last, comes his scope of the skyline. Habit. He was a good agent.
There’s no point lying anymore.
“You’ve got to understand, Ellis is a powerful man.”
“More powerful than the president?” Jake scoffs.
Matthew makes an uncomfortable sound of consideration. He wouldn’t expect Jake to understand.
“Having powerful friends makes him more powerful. You know?” He tries to explain it anyway, it beats listening to the silent radio and the tyres rolling. “I let him do me a lot of favors. Money, marketing, making people go away.”
He looks across and studies Matthew’s face for a moment.
“Not with money.” He realises, watching the stretch of road. There’s one turning, the only one Jake can see. That’s it.
Matthew looks ahead of him, colourless as he gives a weak shake of his head. “No. Not with money.”
It’s already in his head that your father is a scumbag, but it stings Matthew to realise that Jake isn’t surprised by this. It shouldn’t. He shouldn’t care about what someone like Jake thinks — and he supposes he wouldn’t, if it wasn’t for you.
“So what’d you do to him?” Jake prompts.
“I tried to get away.” Matthew says quietly. The wheels turn and the car pulls into an empty parking lot at the rear side of an old hangar. “Put some distance between the two of us — between him and my family, my career. It’s not the kind of thing he was willing to let go.”
“Go figure.” Jake answers bitterly. The car pulls to a stop and the ticking rings out loudly in Matthew’s ears. Jake turns his head, green eyes colder than ever. “You ready?”
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