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ohtobeleah · 3 months

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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Ten: [The Potato Head Society & The Other Guy, Jarred?]

Summary: Jake helps you shave your head in hopes of keeping your power and control. Facing your own mortality makes you question your faith in a higher authority and Jensen and Jake met for the first, and what you hope, will be the last time.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion

Word Count: 4.2K

Author Note: It's no secret I've been having a little bit of a rough go on this hell-site as of late. But I'm still here, working on this series. Seeing your weblogs, comments and concepts truly mean the world to me. so please, don't be hesitant to share.

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“My only real advice for this kind of thing is this.” Jensen sighed as he stood on the steps of his townhouse with you. Coffee in one hand, end of life brochure in the other. Things had taken a rather drastic turn for him in the last few days. After your birthday, his health started to drastically diminish–so much so that his doctors weren’t too sure how much time there was left to combat the cancerous cells spreading through his body. “Go right through it.” Jensen smiled, never once did you ever see his positivity falter. “Like right through it, feel it all, be in it, don't avoid it because the moment you start avoiding it is when it's truly won.”

Little Sammy held your hand as you stood next to Jensen–he was too young to understand that the man talking to you was dying, hell, you weren't even sure if you understood the significance of the pamphlet Jensen had picked up after your first CCA meeting. He’d told you it was for a friend, little did you know that friend was standing right in front of you.

The Cancer Counseling Association held biweekly meetings at the hospital. You hadn’t planned on attending when your oncologist, Doctor Morrison, had first mentioned it. But when Jensen said he’d been going almost religiously for three years? You thought, what's the harm?

The harm was it was depressing as fuck.

“You go completely in the tough times, feel everything and get out the other end of it all.” You’d asked Jensen something along the lines of how he’d managed to keep fighting all this time and still be so positive about life and all its underwhelming rewards. He was for the most part, a happy guy despite it all. But even the strongest of soldiers have an achilles heel.

Jensens just so happened to be the fact you were forbidden fruit, he wasn't about to tread on another man's toes. Especially when he was tiptoeing towards the sweet release of death's gentle hands. None of that stopped his heart from racing whenever you smiled though.

“Many of these things you don't have a choice in.” Jensen continued as his eyes lingered down to little two year old Sammy who stood holding your hand in his. If anything you needed the encouragement to fight this battle for your children. “You know, fuck, whats that expression?” Jensen mulled it over as you chuckled, still standing on the path right outside his street facing townhouse. “Uhh–oh yeah! It's not how well you walked through the fire, but how you walked through it regardless.”

“I think I'm just barely crawling through the flames right now–” You answered honestly. There wasn't a nice way to say he’d looked better than he did right now, with sunken eyes and skin that looked as if all the life had been drained from his soul.

So you never mentioned it.

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“So—“ The library wasn’t Jake Seresins favourite place to go, but there was someone who made the isles of hard covered literature easier to understand that always seemed to draw him in. Like a moth to a flame. “Did you have a good Christmas?” The silence that followed as you stared across the desk where you were processing returned textbooks had Jake's heart racing, he couldn’t read you and that fact made him all the more nervous. “Or not? If you’re Jewish maybe? Don’t celebrate Christmas that’s cool too I just thought—“ You had to giggle at the college football star standing across from the reception desk with his elbows leaning on the ledge. Your smile was pure happiness, it wasn’t hard to make Jake's heart melt inside his chest—a chest he once thought was hollow.

“I had a wonderful Christmas, I went home to visit my mum, she always says that if the Christians can steal Christmas from the pagans then us non-religious folk can celebrate too.” You shrugged your shoulders politely as you kept checking off the returned textbooks from students who’d taken them home over the summer.

“What do you mean when you say the Christians stole Christmas?” Jake Seresin grew up in an incredibly conservative, extremely religious household that attended church every Sunday rain hail or shine. Jake swore his mother nearly spontaneously combusted when he had to stay in hospital overnight after having his appendix removed. It was a Saturday afternoon when they’d presented to the emergency room—poor old Janeen nearly dropped dead at the mere thought of her ten year old missing church the next morning.

“Lord have mercy upon us, for we have sinned.” Jake could still remember his mother crying vividly when he woke after surgery. Even at ten he knew his mother was somewhat of an overly sensitive soul.

“Well technically, in order to convert the Germanic pagans who, like, celebrated the winter solstice and stuff—the Christians were like, fuck it, let’s just say that Jesus was born on this day and you can hang tinsel and stuff.” Again, you shrugged your shoulders like it was common knowledge, but as Jake stared down at you with confusion swirling in his emerald eyes, you thought for a split second that maybe this was actually news to the college athlete who’d been following you around for the better half of nine months. Respectfully.

“You can’t just change someone’s birthday like that? Can you?” Jake, in all his years of attending Sunday services, Sunday Schools, being forced to read the bible and knowing far too much about parting seas and burning bushes, he’d never once been told that Christmas was just a day.

“It’s kinda like how King James was rewriting the bible on one side of the castle and had witches trying to turn his pee into gold on the other.” Jake was speechless as you looked up at him from your chair, your eyes seemingly swirling with knowledge beyond your years. It made sense that you worked in the library on campus.

“How the hell do you know all this?” Jake asked through a sheepish smile he couldn’t hide, your intelligence intimated him in the best of ways. You made him want to do better, be better, strive for more in life. It wasn’t that Jake wasn’t smart, he was. But next to you? It was an unparalleled excellence.

“I uh—I tend to read a lot.” Jake caught the way you faded into yourself, never one to want to outshine others. “Just get lost in here sometimes, books are sometimes easier to understand than people.” Jake could sympathise with that sentiment, he knew what it was like to feel like everyone was watching, judging a book by its cover so to speak. Everyone knew him as the meathead footballer who’s weekends were spent racking up the body count.

But with you? Jake just felt like Jake. Because that’s who he was to you. Simply and forever Jake.

“Do you like, not believe in God or something Miss Y/l/n?” Jake asked cautiously. He didn’t want to offend you or come across as rude or anything—he was simply asking a question he thought he may need to know if he was ever going to introduce you to his mother.

“I find it hard to believe in a world full of stories about Gods and Goddesses from a plethora of different perspectives that there can only be one, if one exists they all have to right? Harmoniously and complacent with the way the universe has fallen to shit without their divine intervention.” Jake had to take a moment to take what you had just said in. He was almost rendered speechless, but not quite. Not Jake Seresin.

“Damn Honeybee, you’re fucking fearless aren’t you?“ Jake couldn’t help but to smirk as he tried to keep his voice down. “You’re just raw doggin’ life with no religious affiliations.” It was then your turn to laugh.

“Guess I am. What about you? Do you believe in a God? An all mighty man, or woman, that sits in the clouds and judges your every action?” You asked with a teasing smirk as Jake bit his bottom lip, mulling over your question:

Did he believe in God?

“My mother would probably prefer if I said yes, but, the more I look at life without the rose coloured glasses I tend to think perhaps the big guy in the sky is all just some story.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Did you know hair holds memories.” The sound of buzzing clippers echoed off the walls of the bathroom as you sat before the mirror. Jake stood behind you with those big emerald eyes you loved so dearly, looking at you with a sympathetic look of understanding and support. “In some cultures people don't even cut their hair because it would upset the gods.” Jake could see the tears in your eyes as you looked at him through the mirror, understandably rambling to somewhat buy yourself some more time. “Medusa's hair was alive, there's certain styles linked to different cultures and full hair cutting ceremonies in–” If Jake didn't interrupt now you would have gone on forever. You had a habit of information dropping in situations where nervousness got the better of you. Not that Jake ever minded, he just knew if he didn't get ahead of it, you wouldn't stop. That would ultimately lead to you sitting in silence when the information swirling around inside her head had all been said. Panic would begin to rise inside your chest, the air would soon get thin, the room would suddenly get a little hotter and before you could even realise you'd be in the midst of a full blown panic attack.

The last time Jake witnessed such a thing was when Sam had colic.

“Honey–” Jake cooed as he turned off the clippers he held in his hand, only to place them down on the countertop to rest his hands on your shoulders. “Noone is forcing you to do this, if you don’t wanna cut your hair we don't have to.”

“No–” You sighed. “No, I want to do this, it's just a lot.” You tried to explain. “It's probably one of the only things I still have control over.” Jake understood, it would be hard not to. After all, he wasn't heartless. If he could Jake would have taken this all away, he would have given anything, including his own life to take your pain away. “I just hope I don't have a weird shaped head.”

“I'm sure you have a really nice scalp dear.” Jake chuckled as he massaged your shoulder tenderly. “And look, if you want my professional opinion, I think you’ll make an awesome live action Mrs. Potato Head.”

“Jacob!” You tried to hide your smile as you felt your cheek heating with a hume so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “You’re cruel!”

“But I made you laugh.” Jake countered through a shit eating grin, that signature Seresin smile you loved so much. The very one all three of your children had inherited from their father. “That's all that matters, now–let me work my magic alright, I've got you.”

“You’re probably a worse hairdresser than you were a husband–” It was a low ball, but Jake took it like a champ as he reached out for the clippers. The buzzing was almost immediate as he used the pad of his thumbs to complete the electrical circuit. With the tool now in full gear, Jake chuckled as he looked at you with fake shock and horror casted across his face.

“Oh now who's being cruel huh?” Jake watched as your eyes followed his hand that held the clippers. “Technically we’re still married Honey, you still have my last name.” He mumbled under his breath but still loud enough for you to hear, seemingly trying to keep your attention on what he was saying rather than the clippers approaching your head.

But–you moved:

“Should we cut my hair with scissors first?”

“Y/n–” Jake sighed as he once again turned off the clippers and placed them back down on the side of the sink.

“No no no I'm not trying to stall, I just don't want you to accidentally scalp me when my hair gets caught up in the shaver.” Jake saw your point, for the hair you did have left it was pretty thick and full of life still. He held the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Not in frustration towards you, but in defiance of his new quest.

“I'll go ask the nurses station for some scissors.”

“Thankyou–” Was all you managed to say back before Jake stepped out of the bathroom attached to your hospital room. The Christmas lights still flickered in the dimly lit room, seemingly consuming the entire room in bright blues, greens, reds and yellows. Even in sickness you couldn't help but to lean into the christmas cheers.

It hit Jake in that moment as he rounded out of your hospital room that he should get you something small to open when you wake up from surgery. The hospital has a gift shop right? Perhaps some flowers and a small gift you could keep with you during chemo. Maybe a book or a– *Thud*

Caught up in his own train of thought as he made his way to the nurses station, Jake ran straight into someone coming out of the elevator. There were two very distinct things Jake noticed as he came back into the reality around him. Those distinct things being that the man he’d run into was carrying not only flowers, but a small gift. Huh, uncanny.

“Sorry man, my bad.” The man apologised almost immediately after the mild impact.

“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” Jake responded with a polite smile his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” Jake reached out to shake the guy's hand, in retrospect he should have kept walking. Jake really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions.

The most paranoid fantasy Jake could think of would never have prepared him for the name that the man spoke next as he took Jake's hand in his.

“Jensen–”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Okay, I'm ready.” Neither Jake nor Jensen knew if you had mentioned either one in conversation, so, respectfully, both men chose to play the fool. Neither one really wanted to ask. Neither Jake nor Jensen wanted to be the one to open that can of worms.

When Jake returned with the borrowed scissors in his grasp–he acted as if he hadn’t just met the man he assumed was the very Jensen in your contacts.

“Last chance Honeybee–” Jake cooed as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Are you positive?” He asked with a smile so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “I’m all in with you, just say the word and we do whatever you wanna do.”

There was a momentary pause in the conversation. Jake's questions lingered in the air around you, it was hard not to get caught in the moment, get lost in the emerald eyes looking at you through the mirror. Jake stared you down as you shifted in your chair to look at him. He saw no hesitation in your eyes as Jake followed your gaze, searching for any sign or signal that could indicate that the next few moments were about to be a mistake.

“Honey—“ Jake tried to heed the warning lights flashing before his very eyes as you closed the gap between the two of you. Jake stood leaning over your right shoulder, looking longingly at your lips. “Don’t do anything stupid now.”

“Loving you is stupidity—“ Was all you said before you let your lips softly connect with your husband’s. Jake kissed you back with enough love in his heart to knock the wind right out of your lungs. The fleeting moment was broken, however, when Jake pulled away. The idea of another man kissing you on his mind, what was this guy's deal? Jackson? Jason?

“Come on Mrs Potato Head, hand me those scissors—“ Jake chuckled, hiding his own insecurities about the man he’d unintentionally met in the hall. You took a second to keep up, but as you licked your lips to savour the taste of Jake's signature vanilla chapstick, you nodded and handed him the scissors.

“I’m ready.” You sighed, once again looking back at your own reflection. “Let’s get this over with.” Change is an inevitable part of life, but that fact didn't make the current circumstances any easy to process. “Do you think that there's gonna be a place for me despite my inability to believe in a higher being?” Jake understood what you were saying, but he didn't have the answers. “I'm starting to wonder more about if there could ever be a life after death.”

Clumps of hair in small sections fell to the tiled floor around you as Jake worked his hands through your hair. Cutting strands from your head like the local mower man cut grass. It felt like such a mundane task to complete, like this was an everyday run of the mill, average experience. But for you? This was a hard and confronting pill to have to swallow.

“I’ve spent my whole life not believing in religion, so who am I supposed to pray to to keep me alive Jake?” Jake saw the tears in your eyes as he cut your hair with caution and steady hands, he heard the small but audible sobs that escaped your lips as he switched from the scissors to the clippers. The buzzing all but silenced your cries but Jake knew this was hard on you. The tears that stained your cheeks clearly reflected your sadness, anger and the inner turmoil that had been engulfing your entire existence since your diagnosis.

“You don’t pray to anyone Honey, you’re stronger than this cancer could ever be.” Again, no one ever sits you down and prepares you for this. No one gives you the heads up about the possibility of one day having to shave your wife's hair off in the name of dignity and control. But as Jake ran the shavers across your scalp, leaving nothing but a small layer of fuzz in their wake, he saw just how much sorrow and pain was swirling in your eyes.

Jake thought to himself in that very moment: ‘I've been needing a haircut for a while now anyway.’

With one quick motion and in the blink of an eye, Jake was running the shavers right down the middle of his head. You really had to take a second to process what he’d just done, what your husband had just done right behind you.

“Jake!” The shrill that escaped your mouth was something unmatched to any emotion you had ever expressed before. “What are you doing?” The image of Jake shaving his head in solidarity would forever be burnt into your mind.

“You said it yourself–hair holds memories and we can make new ones together.” Jake cooed as he shaved off those golden boy locks you loved to run your fingers through. He suited the buzz cut a little more than you did if you were being perfectly honest.

With teary eyes and puffy cheeks you stood on weak legs. The simple gesture of a haircut meant the world to you, Jake knew that. He didn't want you going through this alone. If shaving his head with you brought you a sense of solace? He was more than happy to.

“Looks good–” You smiled as tears ran down your cheeks. Jake reached out to cup your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with the pads on his thumbs. “Mr. Potato head.”

“Consider us the founders of the Potato Head Society.” Jake chuckled as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. In order to cherish you the way you deserved, Jake had to be the bigger man here. He knew that a cloud of uncertainty loomed in the halls, one by the name of Jackson or fucking Jeremy for all Jake cared. But as he stood in the bathroom with you, surrounded in the locks of hair that had once been on your head, he knew damn well at the end of the day it was still his last name you chose to take. “Good thing you don't have an odd shaped head after all, it kinda suits you.”

“Would you still love me if I did?” You asked quietly, giving Jake an excuse to confess his love. Jake's lips were soon pressed softly and ever so tenderly against your once again in the blink of an eye as gentle hands still worked to soothe your stained cheeks.

It wasn’t a hard question to answer, nor an easy question to ask—but as Jake pulled away to rest his forehead on yours as he ran the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, you knew it was an easy concept to understand:

“I’ve never, and I will never, stop loving you Honey.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

For as much as Jensen hated all things hospital related, over his past few years of treatment, he’d come to know these halls better than he knew the back of his own hand.

From countless radiation treatments, to endless chemotherapy sessions. Hours upon hours of remedial therapies and acupuncture sessions to stimulate nerve endings, Jensen was a man who was just about ready to pull the plug and live out the remaining few months he had, or less, from the comfort of his back deck.

He’d been poked and prodded, sliced and diced, far too many times to count on both his hands and for what? A few extra months tacked on top of a few years spent battling pancreatic cancer. No thankyou. Jensen had always had an optimistic outlook on life, until his life started to become the same bland halls and the same bland rooms, with the same bland doctors and nurses who all shared the same look of medical sympathy.

Jesen, for all intents and purposes, was ready to give up his signature status of being the resistant ‘pin cushion’. The student nurses could learn how to change cannula sights on the lady, Paola, who sat in the same chair for every chemotherapy session.

The last few days hadnt been too hot for the six foot one, brown eyed, brown haired (allegedly) man. His prognosis had been diminishing ever since he got the news his treatment was no longer as effective as it once had been.

The day Jensen was told he only had a few short months to live before his organs would begin to fail, even with treatment, was the same day he saw you crying outside the local doctors office. The Hermitage centre as they called it.

The last thing Jensen ever wanted was for his life to be meaningless, before he knew what he was doing? His feet were padding against the concrete as the psalm of his hands began to sweat inside his jean pockets.

“You look like you’ve just been told you’re dying?” As the elevator counted up the floors of which Jensen had to take from the ground floor of the Rhode Island Hospital to the oncology unit, he could vividly remember asking you that question. He recognised the look on your face because not ten minutes prior he;d been told the very same thing.

“I'd start to get your affairs in order, Mr. Hughs “ It hadn't been just a regular check up with his local general practitioner. But it had been the almost final nail in a long awaited coffin.

As the elevator dinged, Jensen took a few steps out into the bustling hallways of the oncology ward. Within seconds, he was met with a force so muscular it damn near knocked him back a few paces. But the cancer ridden ex fireman squared his shoulders and kept easy on his feet.

“Sorry man, my bad.” Jensen almost immediately apologies after the mild impact. He assumed that it was him that had caused the slight collision. His special awareness was pretty shot these days. The flowers he carried were almost crushed on impact, however he managed to save the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies.

“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” The man responded with a polite smile Jensen could only assume his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” like a slow motion car wreck, Jake reached out to shake Jensens hand. In retrospect he should have kept walking. Jensen really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions.

The most paranoid fantasy Jensen could think of would never have prepared him for the look of utter betrayal that smeared itself across the blonde headed aviators face as Jensen shook your husbands hand:

“Jensen–”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

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imaginedreamwrite · 5 months

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Pretty Like A Devil

Divider by @firefly-in-darkness

Part 1: A Drastic Change

California was a far stretch from the blistering winters of New Hampshire. The sun and sand was a distinct contrast to the polar chill that blasted the state, and your home town, last year.

You could have blamed the cold exclusively for your move, if you had kept the sordid truth of your failed engagement to yourself.

Unfortunately the gossip vine of your small town had revealed the half-truth of your broken relationship—while wholly leaving out the kind of person your fiancé was behind closed doors. Truly, you should have considered this some kind of good will circumstance. You were out, out of your ex’s life and away from his palpable jealousy and anger.

What should’ve been a victorious break, had left you feeling poisoned.

Yet you were the one who felt like they’d been stabbed with an iron dagger, twisted to mar your flesh and bone. You felt as if you were the one who was scaldingly afflicted by the loss of someone who wasn’t even good for you.

Your ex, Brett Peters, had been the man you were going to marry. He was supposed to be the man you would’ve wanted to settle down with because you loved him. You were engaged, you should’ve been happy with the man since you were willing to hitch your ass to his.

However your happiness was an illusion you put on for your family and his—a mask to hide the dire emptiness you felt anytime Brett raised his voice. You were a woman who was left feeling empty and lonesome, broken by the man who was supposed to love you.

That anguished seed was planted long before you ever caught him cheating—long before you were suspicious. Maybe you had been settling, maybe you were just looking for someone to care for you.

Settling for someone who wasn’t worth your energy yet still felt like he owned you. He made you feel as if he was doing you a favour by keeping you with him. Brett had made it clear, or tried to, that even the worst of his behaviour was good for you.

Before you caught him physically cheating, you caught him talking to other women. It didn’t always have to be over text but you had caught him exchanging messages. Other instances you would go out to dinner, or out to some clubs he and his friends wanted to go to. You would catch your fiancé hitting on other women, lying to them that you were engaged.

Still you couldn’t leave.

And then when you physically caught him cheating, you had come home early from work after not feeling good. You walked into your bedroom and saw your fiancé ploughing another woman from behind. He didn’t know you were there, neither did, and you were frozen in place listening to your ex grunting like an animal.

You should have been glad to get out, happy to have the relationship broken. But your heart broke, and you foolishly allowed yourself to think it was your fault. You allowed your ex to convince you that he had to cheat because of you.

You nagged him, you wouldn’t give him what he wanted when he wanted. You were too much, you weren’t enough. Your ex had to cheat because he had a high sex drive and you were busy at work.

It always boiled down to being your fault, nothing was ever caused by his own hand. In your fragile emotional state you believed him.

You believed you weren’t good enough, you believed that Brett was right and that he was the best you could do. He had worn you down like a piece of wood he whittled, into accepting all the bullshit he spoke as cold hard facts.

You felt like a shell of a person and you would’ve cratered if it wasn’t for Vida…

Your best friend Vida was your lifeline. She had promised you that everything would be okay. She promised you that no matter where in the world she lived, her and her fiancé Rooster would be there for you.

You didn’t think you would ever have to take her up on her offer. With your broken relationship, you wanted a change and you turned to Vida. Your childhood best friend didn’t waste a moment, not a damn second, in offering you to head to California. She had offered for you to stay with her and Rooster, a place they had off base, while he was there teaching.

”The California sun is amazing. It’ll do wonders for you!” Vida’s over excitement was natural and poignant, but under the chipper beat was worry.

”It’s a far cry from New Hampshire winters.” Your body’s natural ability to heal yourself had stopped when it came to the emotional gaping wounds of your heart. Whether he was a bastard or not, you were still planning on marrying him.

”And you have to go to Rooster’s favourite bar. Lots of fun there, lots of hot pilots.” She grinned and nudged you, attempting to bring you out of your shell and return you to the person you were before.

Vida and Rooster were incredible together. Vida and Rooster were the kind of couple that made you want to believe in soulmates. And though you’d never really met Rooster in person, you’d seen him enough through video calls with Vida to know he was exactly her type.

The plan was to meet him at the favourite hotspot after Vida picked you up. Your gratefulness didn’t wait until she had pulled out of the airport parking lot. You thanked her with great enthusiasm.

Vida saved your sanity, if not part of your life.

”Thanks for letting me stay with you, Vida.” You couldn’t have shown her enough gratitude for giving you an out.

She couldn’t have possibly known how much this had meant to you. No one could have.

”Welcome to California, Y/N. You deserve it.”

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mothdruid · 9 months

Note

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ABBY!! 🥳 hope you have a lovely day 💖

i'd love a good ol' smut prompt with my beloved hangman 🥺 (13 + "i want to hear you cum")

NIK! I'M SO SORRY FOR HOW LATE THIS IS. ALSO, I KIND OF CHANGED IT AND ONLY USED THE DIALOGUE. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!

pairing.

jake 'hangman' seresin x afab!reader

warnings.

this is an 18+ work, so minors buzz off. smut, mutual masturbation, video call sex, use of toys

wc.

1.5k

It was starting to prove difficult, Jake being on leave. This leave wasn't dangerous like some of the others, thankfully. Everything was just starting to feel lonely. Your bed felt huge with out him there, kitchen felt more empty, and the silence was starting to become deafening. Even the cuddles from his dog, Bruiser, were starting to feel devoid.

You missed Jake's presence, but more so just him. His arms wrapped around you, firm chest covering your back, soft lips pressing against yours. The grunts and groans while he was having his way with you. Or soft sighs while you were pleasing him. But hopefully that would change tonight.

Tonight would change that though. Texts and calls had been pretty brief from him, but tonight was your scheduled video chat. A video chat that you had been preparing for. You had bought a new silk nighty with a lace trim for the event, wanting to look delectable for your fiancé.

After you placed your toys and lube onto his side of the bed, you set your laptop up. Placing it on your lap for the time being, knowing that it would be getting moved in between your legs at some point. You opened up the chat, waiting for the video call. You checked yourself in your phone for a moment, fixing your hair a little before you heard the call. You quickly answered it, smiling immediately.

"Hey, honey," Jake said, smiling like a kid in a candy shop.

This was the first time he had seen you since he left. To say he was overjoyed would be a bit of an understatement. He was missing you just as badly as you missed him. He immediately took notice to how beautiful you looked.

"Oh my, now who did you get all dolled up for? Couldn't have been me?" Jake joked.

"All for you," you lifted your shoulders up to push your breasts out a little.

"And what is that?" Jake asked, eyeing the dark green silk covering your breasts.

"Oh, just a little gift I got for you."

"A gift you say?" Jake asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah, it's a part of my surprise for you," You smiled.

Jake ran a hand through his hair, knowing damn well what that meant. He knew that this call might have a little sexual intent. The length at which he was going to be gone for had to be driving you crazy. Your high libido was something he loved, matching his own.

"Well, Javy is out for the night and won't be back till later. Him and the guys went to the Hard Deck." Jake informed you.

"Mr. Seresin missing out on the Hard Deck? Are you sick?" You asked jokingly.

"Only homesick for my future Mrs. Seresin."

"God, you're such a sucker," you couldn't hold back the laugh that came from you. As much as you loved Jake, he could be a cheese ball sometimes.

"A sucker for you," Jake flashed his teeth, "now tell me what this surprise is."

"What if I show you instead?"

"Even better."

You moved the laptop back, placing it on the bed near you. At this angle Jake could see your whole body. The way the dark green silk hugged your body, accentuating your curves. You ran your hands over the silk, pressing your breasts together slightly. Jake's eyes were trained on your hands, following them as they trailed around.

"That's quite the surprise hon'," Jake said, arousal in his tone.

"This isn't the entire surprise," you informed him.

Jake raised an eyebrow, leaning back a little bit and scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah?" The word came out a little strained.

A wink was all you gave him, leaning over and grabbing your vibrator. It wasn't anything extravagant, just a simple one that you got from some online company. The small squishy toy was perfect, responsive to your body and what you needed when. You showed it to Jake, watching his interest get peaked.

"Are you gonna give me a little show?" Jake asked, arousal heavy in his voice now.

All you did was slowly start to drag your hand up your thigh, pulling the nighty up to expose more skin. You put on your most innocent face, reaching over to grab the small bottle of lube. You started to notice Jake adjusting his laptop a certain way. It gave a little bit of a side view of him now. Eventually, your nighty was completely showing off your bare pussy to him.

"No panties? You must be real eager for me to come home," Jake rested his hand over the front of his sweatpants. He couldn't hid the bulge that was starting to form, deciding not hide him palming himself either.

"I've missed you very much," you whined, bring your fingers to your clit.

Jake groaned as he watched your movements. One hand was holding the bottle of lube, the other working your clit. Jake's hand continued rubbing himself as you clicked the bottle open.

"Make yourself all wet for me honey. Exactly how wet you'd be for me if I were there," Jake said, free hand moving to push his t-shirt up a little bit.

You nodded, removing your hands and squeezing a few drops of lube onto your wanting cunt. While closing the lube you found your vibrator, pressing the button to turn it on. You moved it to your core, pressing it to your clit.

A shaky breath left you as the vibrations hit you. Pleasure immediately rolled through you, pushing sounds out of you. You stared at Jake through the screen, watching as he lowered his sweats to expose his hardened cock. He stroked his cock, grunts coming from him with each movement.

"You look so fuckin' pretty honey, makin' me wish I was there," his Texan drawl started to bleed through. That always seemed to happen when he was aroused.

"I wish this was your fingers baby," you told him, whimpering at the end.

"Yeah, that's it, make those sweet noise for me," Jake trailed off into a groan.

Your free hand roamed up your body, grabbing at your breast over top of your nighty. Your hips rolled, pushing the vibe closer and making the vibrations more intense. The silk felt heavenly rubbing on your hardened nipples. After a moment of the two of you praising and moaning you reached out, grabbing the lilac color dildo on the bed.

"Fuck hon', gonna fuck yourself for me too?" Jake asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, but I wis-"

"I do too, honey, trust me," Jake watched as you swirled your tongue around the tip, "wish that tongue was on my cock like that." Jake thrusted his cock into his hand, keeping his eyes on you through the screen.

"Ah, fuck Jake," you whimpered as you pressed the tip into your entrance.

You kept the vibe tight on your clit, pushing the dildo further into you. Your legs feel apart a little more, giving a better shot to Jake. Jake groaned while you thrusted the dildo in and out of your cunt. The stretch mixed with the vibrations were immediately intense. The tighter the vibe was pressed to you, the more intense the vibrations.

"Jake, I'm already so close," you whined.

"I know, honey, so good for me. Gonna show me how fast you can come huh?" Jake asked, stroking himself to the angel on his screen.

"Yeah," you whimpered, biting your lips afterwards.

Noise had always been a bit of a hard thing with you and Jake. Jake loved hearing you, and you loved hearing him. But you didn't always like to make sound for him. You had grown up with religious parents, so being quiet was something ingrained in you.

"I wanna hear you come, honey."

And with that you did.

An O was the shape of your lips, sounds pouring out of you. Your hips shuddered, fucking yourself onto the dildo more. The vibe was pressed incredibly tight to your clit, vibrations so intense you were seeing stars. You sat there for a moment, basking in the sensitivity of it all, shuddering and putting on a show for Jake. You could hear a loud grunt followed by a groan, knowing that Jake had finally come. With that you dropped the vibe and pulled the dildo out of you.

Silence hung between the two of you for a moment. Your chest was moving quickly, breaths leaving and filling your lungs. As you were coming back to reality, you found your vibe and turned it off. Your legs drew together, letting your night cover yourself a little bit.

"I miss you," you said looking at the screen.

Jake gave a lazy smile, taking his t shirt off and wiping his chest off with it. You mimicked his smile.

"I miss you too, honey," Jake said, blowing you a kiss right afterwards.

"Alright, let me go clean up and then you can tell me about your leave."

Jake nodded as you vanished off screen. As much as he missed just fucking you, he missed the aftercare. Holding you afterwards and feelings everything happening in your body. But it wouldn't be too long before he would be home. Only two more weeks.

#jake seresin #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x female!reader #hangman smut #moths party

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seresinhangmanjake · 1 year

Text

a little love

Summary: You’ve been back with Jake for months and you’ve settled into family life, and it’s very clear how much Eve loves her daddy. OR: cuteness during a family grocery trip.

Notes: Based on the suggestion by @mayhemmanaged :) and then it went from there. Another thing that was meant to be about 500 words that decided it wanted to be longer. I’d be shocked but this happens every single time, so…

Part of the Oh, Baby Universe

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy.

Words: 1352

Jake glared at the chilled rectangular box that he’d just snatched from the massive aisle-length freezer. His eyes scanned it over, eyebrows pinched and lips curled in barely restrained disgust as he read the printed ingredients on the back of the cardboard. “I can make us real waffles, you know,” he said. “We don’t need processed, frozen, grocery-store waffles.”

He wasn’t a snob, not by his standards anyway. He just happened to grow up with a grandmother who didn’t believe in frozen products and demanded he learn how to make things from scratch. Jake wanted to pass that down to his daughter, even if she couldn’t yet eat the food in question at her five months of age.

“Honey, did you hear me?” he asked, finally looking up from the box. But you weren’t paying him an ounce of attention.

You were focused on the phone in your hands as you unlocked it and pointed the camera at your daughter who was nestled in her stroller.

He set the box in the toddler seat of the cart. “What are you doing?”

You lightly shushed him, nudging your head in Eve’s direction. “Look.”

So he did.

His eyes curiously shifted towards his daughter and he met her awaiting stare straight on. Her lovely irises, green as his, were brighter and wider than usual. Her little lips, plump and pink as yours, were parted in awe.

He understood the reason behind numerous clicks of your phone camera taking snapshot after snapshot. Though, for him, pictures would forever be unnecessary. He’d remember the way his little girl was looking at him for the rest of his life. She looked at him like he was every amazing thing compiled into one; as if he were her hero and her most-loved stuffed bunny and her favorite mashed strawberries. She looked at him like he hung the damn moon in the night sky and it made every composed piece of him burst within his chest.

Jake felt the corners of his lips tip upwards.

“Well, hi there, baby girl,” he chuckled, inching his knuckle forward to run down her plush cheek.

“That is just the sweetest thing," you said as you pocketed your phone. “I can’t believe you ever worried about bonding with her. She adores you.”

The way you said it made the whole notion sound ridiculous, but a piece of Jake believed his concerns should’ve been considered valid. He missed a portion of his daughter’s life. He missed your pregnancy. To him, that was enough, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to fight off nagging thoughts that his child sensed his absence and would one day form some internal resentment. He couldn’t help it, despite your assurance that he was insane for even letting those thoughts into his mind.

But if he wanted to believe you, which he did, it didn’t hurt that Eve managed to show little acts of love to support her mother’s claims. Reaching for him, or smiling up at him, or staring like he was her entire world, or even when he left the room and her sobs began to echo down the hall, shrill and painful to his ears as they were. They proved her love.

Jake pulled his finger back and Eve’s tiny hand rose a bit, chasing after his touch.

“The two of you are going to be as thick as thieves,” you said, shaking your head. “Such a daddy’s girl.”

“Maybe one day we’ll have our very own mama’s boy.”

You snorted as your arms crossed in front of your chest. “Oh please, Jake, you’re a pilot. Any son of ours would be obsessed with you, too.”

A small pout formed on your face that had Jake chuckling again. “Aw, Honey.” He stepped to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to him, but your woven arms blocked your chest from meeting his. “Don’t be sad,” he said.

Your comments would’ve made him feel significantly worse if not for the hint of a smile breaking through your grumpy facade. He hummed, his fingers just barely dipping under the hem of your shirt to graze across the inch of skin above your jeans, hoping the simple touch would get that smile to finally take over. You were stubborn, though, refusing to meet his gaze for the sake of keeping up the act.

Jake looked left and right to ensure the lack of other shoppers before leaning in close to press a kiss to the side of your neck. Then another. And another.

Your arms untwined and your hands landed on his biceps, lightly squeezing until he sucked slightly on the sensitive skin and your gentle touch turned into a smack. You gasped. From pleasure or shock, Jake didn’t know. Likely both, which made it so, so much better.

“Jake Seresin!” you snapped, smacking at him again until he released you. He laughed but when he looked up, all grumpiness had dissipated and the grin he loved so much shone with the surprise on your face.

“There we go,” he said in satisfaction, lips this time meeting your cheek.

“Too much, mister. What if someone saw?”

“I checked,” he replied, though you still took it upon yourself to verify, your head shifting in all directions as Jake just watched you with his own grin. By the way your eyes eventually landed on your baby, your final argument was likely to be that Jake’s public affection was too much on display for her young eyes, but Eve had drifted to sleep just before he kissed you. He left no stone unturned.

You gave him a single nod. “Fine. But this isn’t the biggest neighborhood in all the world,” you said. “The last thing we need is more people talking about us.”

Jake sighed. You were so close to letting go the memories of some of his coworkers’ looks and whispers when everyone learned of his surprise baby, but sometimes, despite you shutting them up, you still worried. Less for yourself and more for him, you’d told him. You didn’t want him to face stupid gossip at his job. He didn’t care though, not really. His first step into his home at the end of the workday shed from his body any problems or stressors, whether about his family or not. He’d hear your voice or his daughter’s giggle, and care for anything else went right out the window.

“People are just jealous.” He smirked. “They don’t have a beautiful woman and baby of their own.”

“If you say so.”

“I do,” he said, brushing some strands of your hair back behind your ear.

A ghost of a smile graced your lips once again, but as your gazes remained locked, the subtle upturn of your mouth settled. You only broke the connection to quickly scan the aisle—still bare—then looked back at him and surged forward to gift a kiss he didn’t expect. He almost stumbled, but reciprocated, his hands raising to cup your cheeks and pull you in closer.

When you separated after a minute, he rested his forehead against yours and took a deep breath, chucking on the exhale. “Your concerns disappeared awfully fast.”

“Well, it’s hard not to kiss you when you say things like that.”

“I’ll just start following you around and complimenting you all day then.”

“I won’t argue,” you said. You gave him one final peck, slipped out of his arms, and took your position at the handle of Eve’s stroller again.

As you began to push, Jake said, “About having that boy…”

“Not for a while,” you called over your shoulder. “Not for a long, long while.”

You missed his own pout, but just like yours, a smile was cracking through. He could wait. He had a few things to take care of before thinking about having another baby anyway. A promotion to get, a bigger house to find, a ring to buy.

Jake grinned to himself as he grabbed the slightly less frozen box in his cart and opened the freezer to place it back in its slot.

“Bring the waffles, Jake!”

----

A/N: *turn on notifications for this blog or @seresinhangmanjake-library if you would like to keep up with my writing* Also, blame the lack of Oh, Baby!Jake this week on college professors :(

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x female!reader #jake seresin x fem!reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #dad!jake seresin #dad!jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun hangman #tgm fic #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin imagine #top gun maverick fanfic #jake seresin x you

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