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once-a-pogue · 2 years ago

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can't unfeel that // Jake Seresin x fem!reader

pairing: hangman x reader (no y/n)

synopsis: jake and his FWB are going strong, totally not developing feelings, totally unaffected and happily still in friends territory...in completely unrelated news, Jake discovers a breeding kink

word count: 8k of smut interspersed with feelings

A/N: This fic is a follow up to kinda might, sorta like, love you a little bit; it’s not necessary to read that first, but it is the dynamic (if you haven’t read it, that’s where Jake discovers choking so it’s a fun time) (also the title is another line from the same song). Thank you to @gigisimsonmars for the inspo and beta-ing, and @laracrofted and @bradshawsbitch for opinions, moral support, and straight up coaching!! 💙

Warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI explicit PiV, unprotected sex, non negotiated breeding kink—friendly reminder this is a work of FICTION oh my god use protection and communicate explicitly with your partner beforehand please please please— f!receiving oral sex, hint on condescension, denied/delayed orgasm, overstimulation…if none of that phases you, there’s also swearing.

This was friend behavior; friends totally go grocery shopping together.

It definitely wasn’t a big deal that you and Jake were at a Whole Foods, him looking for some kind of weird protein powder while you picked through cartons of blackberries.

It was absolutely casual that he’d moved into a small house off base, and you were spending the night more often than not.

Your friends with benefits situation was continuing as expected, and the domesticity of it all was not, in any way whatsoever, throwing you off.

You wrinkled your nose at your reflection in the mirrors over the produce section, wondering who you were convincing. In the mirrors, you saw a man with a child on his hip come up to peruse the bell pepper section, and you stepped aside to give them more room.

“I’m so sorry to bother, but would you mind?”

You were surprised when the man spoke to you, and you turned to see him sheepishly looking between the rows of bell peppers, and the toddler who wouldn’t let go of her father, her lower lip quivering dangerously each time he readjusted his grip to reach for some vegetables.

“Of course,” you said, pulling down a produce bag. “What can I grab for you?”

“Actually,” the man shifted the child on his hip, “could you just take her for a minute? My wife sent this massive list and I have like a dozen things I need to get, and it’d just be faster…”

“Oh,” you said, looking at the girl who looked dubiously back at you, trying not to read gender roles and expectations into someone just asking for help. “If it’ll help, sure.”

“Thank you so much,” the man sighed in relief, handing over the child with little fanfare. The kid looked at you suspiciously, and you settled her onto your hip, not giving her a chance to second guess the arrangement. The man moved quickly down the aisle, pulling out a list to consult and grabbing different vegetables, as you narrated to the child, hoping the steady flow of information would be enough to offset the fact that she was being held by a stranger.

“Did you know,” you told her quietly, “that Brussels sprouts grow on stalks, like almonds? They look like little cabbages, and they’re technically related, I think, but they don’t come out of the ground like that. The pattern they grow in is actually called helical—which I’ve never said aloud until this moment, but it’s the same base word as helix, so I hope I got it right—around the stalk…”

You rambled on as the father continued to dart up and down the aisle, coming back occasionally to drop the bagged produce into the trolley. You heard a familiar footstep on the linoleum, and turned both you and the child towards it.

“And that man over there,” you told her, smiling conspiratorially as Jake rounded the corner, his boots giving a distinctive cadence to his step, “didn’t believe me when I told him it’s actually Brussels sprouts, with an ‘s’ at the end.”

Jake’s face went on a journey when he found you, then registered that you were holding an unfamiliar child, and his eyes slid over to the father running frantically up and down the aisle. A strange expression settled on his face when he looked back at you, almost frowning, as he walked closer to you.

“It’s not his fault,” you continued to the toddler, who was watching Jake with open fascination as he approached. “He’s a cretin whose unpopular vegetable of choice is an asparagus.”

“Ha ha,” Jake deadpanned as he stepped beside you, looking between you and the child with that same unfamiliar expression on his face. “What’s this?”

The father chose that moment to reappear, dropping a mesh bag of yellow onions, a carton of fingerling potatoes, a bundle of scallions, and a couple heads of garlic into the trolley, and nodding at Jake before turning back to you.

“Honestly, you’re a lifesaver,” he thanked you fervently, reaching for his kid. She went without complaint, and you briefly envied her unflappability, before you were preoccupied by other things.

Things like Jake stepping way into your personal space, and leaning forward to brush a kiss on your cheek. You shivered, surprised by the contact, but Jake stared intently at the man’s retreating figure, juggling his daughter and the trolley, either unaware of or unbothered by the heavy gaze following him.

“What was that?” you asked him, as soon as the man finally rounded the corner. Jake’s nose wrinkled, before he shook his head and stepped out of your personal space. He wasn’t looking at you, but held out the shopping basket towards you, showing a brown envelope labeled Organic Pea Protein on top of the groceries you’d already picked out.

“I found the powder,” he said, his voice level, and you weren’t sure if you were crazy or if he was suppressing. But Jake didn’t look like he was going to divulge any additional information, so you reached behind you haphazardly, grabbing the first carton of berries your fingers closed on.

“And I’ve got the berries,” you announced. You checked your selection as you dropped it into the basket, mentally grimacing when you saw you’d picked blueberries.

“You hate blueberries,” Jake said, frowning slightly.

“Sure do,” you muttered, looking at them, before pasting a smile on your face to look back at Jake. “But we’ve committed at this point. Anything else we need?”

Jake looked at you for a long moment, then shook his head tersely. “Uh, no. No, let’s go.”

You were both quiet as you stood in line to check out, making cordial conversation with the cashier, and then fading out as you carried the paper grocery bags out to the truck. The silence was almost disconcerting, but Jake didn’t seem upset, just like he was focusing intently on something, you weren’t sure what. You were loading the groceries into the backseat behind the passenger door when you realized Jake wasn’t opposite you, and that his bags had already been loaded. You were looking around for him when strong hands closed around your waist, and Jake pulled you to him, closing the door in front of you, before pressing you against the side of his truck. You expected him to turn you to face him, but you braced yourself against the truck when he didn’t, his broad body caging you against the door.

“Jake?” you asked softly, unsure what he needed, or was looking for, knowing that sometimes it was easier for him to feel you than to tell you. You could feel him drawing in slow breaths from the way his chest expanded against your back, and his hips pressed slightly forward at your soft question.

“Just a sec,” he said gruffly, his voice muffled as he turned his face into your hair. He wasn’t kissing and he wasn’t nuzzling; it just felt like he was grounding himself by touching you, and you knew that, despite trying to convince yourself otherwise by the bell peppers, your heart was in trouble. Because not only only did you not mind, you wish he’d let you do this more.

You nodded, sliding your hand up the side of the truck so you could rest your face on the back of it, while you waited for him. Jake drew in a couple more breaths, and then his hands on your waist loosened, as he turned you to face him.

You went easily, arms dropping from the truck to his shoulders, hoping if your presence had steadied him, your touch could do the same. His eyes were stormy, the green of them clouded over by something complicated, something messy, and your hand snuck up from his shoulder to the back of his head, pulling his face down to you. You didn’t kiss him, but you watched his eyes slide closed as you pressed his forehead to yours, and his shoulders dropped slightly.

“Want to tell me about it?” you asked quietly.

He didn’t say anything, but you felt him shake his head, his hair scratching your forehead from where it was trapped between you.

“Want to get out of here?” you asked instead, and this time felt him nod, causing something like pride to well up in your chest, relieved that he’d trust you enough to be able to voice what he wanted.

“Okay, then,” you said, gently as you could, “ let’s go.”

Again, Jake nodded, and you felt his hands tighten on your waist.

“When we get home,” he said, his voice rough, “I’m unloading the groceries. You’re going straight to my bed, changing out of this, and into my old Staubach tshirt.”

Jake didn’t phrase it like a question, but you knew he was asking it anyway, so you nodded. You felt him exhale a long breath against your cheek, like relief, and then he released you suddenly, like he had to do it at once or he wouldn’t at all.

He stepped away from you to open the passenger door, made sure your feet were tucked in before shutting it, then crossed in front of the truck quickly, pulling the truck out of the lot before his word choice snagged in your mind—home.

You looked at Jake out of the corner of your eye and he wove the truck in and out of traffic. His eyes were squinted against the bright sunlight, but the expression on his face was unfamiliar to you. His jaw was clenched, and his hands were tight on the steering wheel, and when one dropped to the stick to shift gears, the movement was terse, precise. You wanted to be a more altruistic person, you did, but realistically, something warmed deep in your stomach as you anticipated what that meant for when you got home.

When he pulled into the driveway, Jake was out of truck before it’d fully stopped, yanking open your door and turning you to face him, on the edge of the seat. You fumbled to undo your safety belt as his hand on the back of your neck drew your mouth to his, his lips claiming yours in a hungry kiss.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you reached a hand up to his jawline to steady yourself as he pressed you back against the seat. He kissed you hard, heavy, and you knew there was something he was saying that he wasn’t telling you, but you couldn’t quite read it off his lips. His mouth moved hungrily over yours, then he pulled himself back, pressing chaste kisses on the corners of your lips, your chin, across your cheekbones.

“Upstairs,” he said, his voice low. “Be ready for me.”

The heat that had been curling in your belly since the parking lot fanned into a flame in his words, and you nodded mutely. Jake helped you out of the cab of the truck (a couple more kisses and a smidge more of that voice, and you probably would’ve slid off the seat), and you walked on unsteady legs towards the house.

Upstairs, you rooted through Jake’s pajama drawer, looking for the worn navy tshirt he’d requested. You could hear the refrigerator door opening and shutting as Jake shuffled groceries around the kitchen, and you stripped unceremoniously, before pulling the tshirt over your head. The material felt soft, the hem falling just to the tops of your thighs. Jake’s footsteps sounded on the stairs and you darted over to the bed, perching on the edge of it as he came into the room.

At the sight of you, something softened in his demeanor.

His shoulders lost some of their tension, even as he pulled in a deep breath, looking at you. Your thighs pressed together as you fought the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, no less unsettling for its familiarity. He noticed, of course, his eyes darting down to your thighs, and an almost-smile growing on his lips.

He walked into the room slowly, each step measured, and by the time he made it to the bed you were practically vibrating with need. To hear his voice, to feel his touch, to know you’d generated some kind of reaction from him, while you sat fidgeting.

Jake stopped in front of you, running a finger along the neckline of the shirt, and you couldn’t help but lean towards him.

“Thank you.”

He said it quietly, and it surprised you. You weren’t sure if he meant for changing, for waiting, for understanding that he couldn’t say whatever it was, but as you met his eyes as he stood over you, you nodded an unspoken ‘you’re welcome’.

Jake’s hand trailed down the front of the tshirt, his touch warm even through the cotton. His fingers stalled when he reached your breasts, his thumbs passing languidly over you as he confirmed you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Your nipples hardened under his teasing touch, light and unhurried, even as his eyes darkened.

“So good for me,” Jake murmured, and his hands dropped farther. He tapped the tops of your thighs and you opened them obediently. There was no pretense here, no point in pretending his words and his authority didn’t affect you. As you parted your legs, Jake sank to his knees beside the bed, his eyes flashing as he bent level to your hips.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his warm breath ghosting over you, the endearment falling from his lips like it was natural, even if it was only when you were like this, “is this for me?”

He pressed a feather-light kiss to your core, his tongue darting out between his lips to taste you and you knew what he meant—you were already glistening with arousal. Jake’s fingers came up to grip your thighs and he inhaled deeply as he spread your legs farther, sending a flush of color across your chest. You always felt desired with Jake, but sometimes it felt carnal, the way he needed you to fill all his senses.

Another light kiss, another sweep of his tongue, tantalizing promises and teases for the both of you. You leaned back on your hands, braced on the bed, as Jake’s gentle touches continued. It wasn’t at all what you’d expected, this soft exploration, and your hips lifted towards him, asking for more.

He pulled back.

You whimpered at the loss of his mouth, looking down to see him licking his lips. Jake’s chin was wet, shining with your arousal, and he’d barely touched you.

“Jake…” you started, your body canting towards him, but his hands on your legs stilled you.

“Asked you a question,” he mumbled, holding your eyes while he leaned in to place another chaste kiss on your cunt. His lips closed over you, his tongue curled against you, and you trembled at the dark look in his eyes.

“Yes, fuck,” you breathed, and Jake sucked where his lips had sealed, a reward. “All for you, Jake, only you.”

He hummed, the vibration causing your head to fall back as he placed another maddeningly controlled kiss on your core. He lapped at you slowly, pulling your arousal into his mouth, savoring your taste, taking his time. You realized you were trembling, your body shaking as Jake took what he desired, finding his pleasure between your thighs.

He kissed you, again, again, a soft trail up to your clit. When he rolled his tongue over that tight mound, your arms gave out, one of your hands tangling into his hair while you fell back to your other elbow.

Jake chuckled against your core.

“Need something, sweetheart?” he asked, licking a long stroke up your cunt. Your back arched and you cried out as Jake smirked into you, his tongue circling your clit. “Use your words.”

“More,” you gasped, your hips bucking into his touch. “Please, Jake, I need more.”

“More?” Jake asked, his voice low, and his teeth brushed over your clit as he sucked. You moaned, and Jake soothed you with more light kisses before you felt him shifting. A moment later, a thick finger traced along your folds, and you nodded feverishly.

“Please,” you begged, “I need—”

“Oh she needs, does she?” Jake mused, and you whimpered as he pulled back. You felt his cheek press against your thigh as he watched his fingers pulling through you. He spread you with his hand, holding your folds apart so he could lick deeply into you. The pressure of his tongue, the sureness of his touch, it felt so good, but it wasn't anywhere near enough.

And he knew it, the asshole.

“Yes, please, I—” you broke off with a yelp when Jake pinched your clit. He leaned in to soothe it with another frustrating kiss, but your body echoed with the throbbing pulse.

“Most people would be grateful to have their man on his knees, wouldn’t they?” Jake said, his voice muffled as his lips trailed over your core, but the teasing derision still present, sending a tremor through you. “But not you, hmm, honey? You want more.”

Your breath caught at his words; surely he hadn’t meant to say your man.

He wasn’t yours like that, hot as it was for him to say it…but the illusion of it was enough to set your reeling. You looked down at him—hair mussed from your fingers, pupils blown wide from your taste, shoulders panting as he chose between air and more of you—and this afternoon you liked the idea of him being yours.

“Greedy, greedy girl,” Jake chastised softly, when you didn’t correct him, but if you closed your eyes, you could pretend there was a fondness hiding in the gentleness of his voice.

He thrust two fingers into you.

You arched off the bed, a wail falling from your lips as Jake curled his fingers inside of you.

“And I take care of you, don’t I,” he said, kissing your cunt sloppily as his fingers worked in and out of you. “Every damn time, satisfy this needy pussy, this fucking perfect cunt.”

The stretch of his fingers, the wet drag of his tongue, the dirty sting of his words, washed over you and you moaned as he wrecked you.

“Yes, Jake,” you practically whined. “You’re so good, you feel so good, please—”

“That’s right,” Jake gritted, his fingers working faster. He thrust into you, stroking your walls and kissing it better with his warm mouth. You felt your thighs shaking and heat building in your center and you didn’t remember falling back onto the bed, but you didn’t remember anything other than the torturous, teasing, all consuming need that Jake was stroking between your legs.

“Fuck, honey, squeezing me so tight,” Jake panted. “You gonna cum for me? After all that needing, you gonna let me make you feel good? Come on, sweetheart, let me have it; it’s mine.”

His fingers continued stretching you, thrusting into you with perfect, intoxicating, precision and Jake leaned closer to your core again. His nose brushed against your clit before his lips closed around it, sucking messily, and you felt the building pressure inside of you shatter.

You heard yourself sobbing like something in a dream, distant and echoing, but all you could feel was the tremors wracking your body, and Jake’s tongue pulling you through it.

“Pretty girl,” Jake was murmuring between kisses. “You’re so damn beautiful, all the time, but when you come for me it’s something else. You did so good, sweetheart, so good, and you taste like fucking heaven…”

You whimpered as your head cleared, pulling weakly at his hair as he continued to kiss your sensitive core.

Jake continued to lap up your release, unrelenting, unsatiated, and you both groaned when he eased a finger back into you.

“How we doing, sweetheart,” he asked, and when you opened your eyes, he was watching you carefully. You realized he was holding his finger still inside of you, and it was your hips pulling him into you, rocking into his hand.

“Good,” you whispered.

Jake nodded, and his finger curled. “That’s my girl.”

His words soothed over you, and you felt them settle warmly over your skin, the same as when he’d called himself your man. It was probably pheromones, nothing more, but God it was a lovely thought.

“Sweetheart…” Jake’s voice was quiet, dangerous. “You know what that look does to me.”

This was happening more often than not, little moments where you wished for more, and Jake had to remind you that that wasn’t the deal you’d both agreed to. You clenched your eyes shut again, trying to make it go away.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

When you looked at him again, Jake’s forehead was pursed in a frown, and he shifted his weight to climb up onto the bed. He lowered himself over you, his hard body pressing over your soft one, and his mouth found yours. He kissed you and you tasted yourself on his tongue, even in the gentle insistence of this kiss.

Jake pulled back, his lips trailing along your jaw, your neck.

“Don’t apologize, honey, please don’t,” he whispered against your skin. “I can’t…please don’t.”

And you pressed your lips tightly together to trap the words, but when he pulled back to look at you, you knew you couldn’t look, not without showing him what he didn’t want to see. You could feel him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction as he added another finger inside of you. He groaned when you clenched around him, his hips rocking into you slowly as yours spread wider, to cradle him.

“Feels good, Jake,” you gasped, loving the weight and motion of him.

He sucked on your neck, nibbling lightly and letting go as he rocked into you again. “Why’d you have to do that,” he mumbled into your collarbone, “look at me like that, then tell me it feels good. Makes me want to keep you, honey.”

Your hips stuttered against his, even as you knew he didn’t mean it, he couldn’t. Before you could ask and before he could take it back, he surged up to kiss you again. There was something almost frantic in his kiss, desperate enough that you knew this was it, whatever had gotten into him back at the grocery store.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, pulling his fingers out of you, settling his hands on your waist, squeezing tightly to orient himself. His face was buried in your neck, hiding, even as his clothed hips rutted harder against you.

“Tell me what you need,” you asked, one of your hands coming up to card through his hair. He shivered, this enormous pilot, shivered at your words and your touch. He pulled back to look at you again, carefully, for a long moment.

The afternoon sun was fading, and he looked golden in your arms, crouched above you. He hadn’t pushed your hand from his hair, and you smiled when he moved his head, adjusting where you were scratching him, working up the gumption to say whatever it was he needed.

“Can we pretend?” he asked at last, his voice holding something almost vulnerable. “I…maybe I can explain it later. But for now, can we just pretend?”

You didn’t know what he meant, but, irrationally, you trusted him anyway. If this was what he needed, and you could provide it, then you would. You nodded, and he let out a slow breath, nodding back. Beyond that, he didn’t move, looking almost uncertain with what to do next, so you pushed at his shoulders lightly.

“Let’s start here, yeah?” you prompted, pulling his shirt over his head.

Jake helped you, shifting to his side so you both could work on getting his pants off. Then he was in his boxer briefs, and you were in his shirt, and then he pulled that off of you too. The air was thick for a moment as you lay looking at each other, waiting.

You ran a hand down his chest, over the smooth skin and coarse hair, thickening as you trailed lower. You brushed your fingers over his length, straining against his underwear, and looked back up at him through your lashes.

“Don’t you want to fuck me, Jake?” you asked softly. He nodded, eyes closing as you ran your hand over him again.

“More than that,” he whispered.

He felt good in your hand, hot and thick, and you watched the outline grow as you waited for him to finish the thought.

You felt him brush some of your hair out of your face, before he said quietly, “Want to get you pregnant.”

You froze.

When you looked back up at him, Jake was watching you closely and your heart felt like someone had it in a chokehold because that was what he’d meant by pretending?? You’d mentally prepared for some variety of roleplay, maybe even an admiral or rank kink, but this? You, just with a future together?

While your mind was screaming that it was unintentionally cruel, your body was sighing that it was so. Damn. Hot.

You had an IUD so it wasn’t a possibility, but the fantasy was admittedly one that sent a pulse of need straight through you.

“Color,” Jake asked softly, and you bit your lip.

If you said no, he’d be apologetic, probably fix you a bath or go downstairs, give you some space while he fixed something from the grocery run earlier. You’d eat together, pretend it hadn’t happened, and he’d help you get back to base, whatever you needed. Unless what you needed was to be here with him, like this, only not pretend.

It was that simple, wasn’t it: there was no way you were walking unscathed away from knowing how Jake fucked you when he wanted a future with you.

But you looked at him, into his soft eyes that were waiting for you, hoping for you, and there was only one word in your mind.

“Green,” you whispered.

Jake’s eyes closed.

The hand that had brushed your hair away settled on your neck and he pulled you to him.

“Thank you,” he said, and before you could process that, he kissed you.

This kiss was different.

It wasn’t possessive, it wasn’t hungry. It was almost tender. It was gratitude, honest and insistent, pressed against your lips as Jake thanked you for something he had no way of knowing you wanted.

It was too gentle, but when you tried to deepen it, Jake held back, soothing you with soft caresses. His hands were light on your shoulders, your waist, the side of your face, embracing you with more than just his kiss. You melted into it, the gentle slide of his mouth against yours, his sweet taste, the strength of his arms around you. Jake kissed you until he felt you trust him with it, and then he rolled you both over.

He settled over you, his long body draping over yours, and you wanted to melt into the bedspread. Your arms were wrapped around him, pulling him closer to you, and one of your hands ran over his stomach to slip into his underwear. You hummed into Jake’s kiss as your fingers wrapped around his cock, warm and heavy in your hand, and his hips pushed further into your grasp.

“Honey, hold on—” he muttered against your lips, but you shook your head. His touch was too good, there was too much unspoken, and if you let the tenderness fester unchecked, you weren’t going to be able to handle this.

You could lean into this, you could do it. You slid your hands around his back, pushing his boxer briefs down to his thighs before your hand returned to his cock. You knew he always got a little worked up when he went down on you, and as you stroked your hand over him, precum beaded on the tip of his cock.

“Waited long enough, Jake,” you whispered, “want you to fill me.”

Jake drew in a sharp breath at your words, and he nudged your chin with his nose, moving your face so he could kiss up your neck. His mouth was more desperate than focused; you knew he’d leave marks and you tried not to think about why you wanted him to. You shifted under him, moving to guide his cock towards your entrance, brushing against your thighs, slicked with his spit and your orgasm.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, words muffled against your neck, a warning and a promise as you ran his cock through your folds. “You’re so warm and I’m not even in you yet.”

“Want to feel you,” you told him, wishing your voice was wrecked because he’d asked you to pretend, not because the thought of him having you like this sent your head spinning.

“I know, honey,” Jake said, voice low. “Just give me a sec.”

You could hear his breathing, measured like he had to count it, like it was overwhelming for him too. You licked your lips as you lined him up with your core.

“Come on, Jacob,” you cooed, letting go of his cock and running your hands up his side, settling under his shoulder blades, “don’t you want to breed me?”

“Fucking hell,” Jake swore, and his hips slammed forward.

Your head fell back as he shoved his cock into you, stretching you, deep and hot and sudden. You whimpered his name as your body ached in the most delicious way, stuffed, full.

“What’d you think would happen, honey,” Jake said, his voice hoarse, but his tone sharp. His arms caged around you, and he pushed off the bed to pull out slowly.

The drag of his cock through your cunt was devastating, but not half as much as the look on his face, when you opened your eyes.

Fuck, he looked so good.

Sandy hair in his eyes, expression strained as he held his body in check, his eyes blown wide with desire. His head dropped when he pulled nearly out of you, just the tip still in you, and you felt yourself clenching down on him, needing him. His lowered head draped his dog tags against your chest, the cold metal causing you to gasp.

Jake chuckled, a rumble of a laugh, and the tags dragged across your chest, then trailed up your neck as he leaned forward while he pushed back into you. You looked down your body, down to where his thick cock, shining with your joint arousal, was pressing back into your entrance.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” Jake said, and you looked up at him. “That’s right. Look at me while I feed you my cock.”

You whimpered, every impulse telling you to close your eyes, let your head fall, focus only on the stretch of his cock and your body adjusting to him. But you let your eyes burn as you looked up at him, and Jake almost smiled.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Beautiful girl, doing so good for me.”

Your nails raked up his back as he bottomed out in you. He felt so deep, like you could feel his heartbeat, or maybe that was just the way his chest was pressed up against yours. It felt like every inch of your body was connected to his, melting into him, as Jake waited for you to adjust. His eyes darted over your face, watching you carefully, and it warmed you just as much as his body over yours.

“Need you to move, Jake,” you gasped, when you were ready. “Need to feel you move.”

“We’re back to need, are we?” Jake asked wryly, but he rolled his hips, pushing deeper into you before pulling himself back out. He thrust back into you, your body accepting him, craving the push and pull and the fullness of him. Jake set a steady pace, deep and thorough and you felt like every time he pressed into you it was too much, and when he pulled out, like you needed him all the more for it.

So, yeah, you were back to need.

“Fuck, those sounds you’re making,” Jake groaned. “You sound so good, sweetheart, I could come just from hearing you.”

You hadn’t even realized you were whining, each thrust of Jake’s hips punching sounds out of you. A layer of sweat coated his skin, soothing the abrasion of his chest hair as he moved over your and the juxtaposition of it all—his words, his cock, his sweat, his chest—clouded your mind so all you could do was keep making whatever noises he pulled from you.

“But not today, huh?” Jake continued, pushing back into you. “Not today, because today’s not just about getting us there, is it, it’s about fucking filling you.”

You moaned at his words, nodding desperately, feeling yourself clenching him tighter at his words. God, you wanted to feel that, wanted to feel him.

“‘s that what you want, baby?” Jake gritted, his hips slamming forward. “To be so full of me, with my seed, not just when I can give it to you like this. Fuck, you’d always have me in you, wouldn’t you, carrying me.”

You felt yourself sliding up the bed, being pushed up by the force of his thrusts. You reached back for the headboard, finding it closer than you’d expected, pushing back to meet Jake, and he moaned.

“That’s right, sweetheart, push yourself back on this cock. You need that don’t you, to milk it till you’re full of me?”

You cried out as you nodded, needing that, just like he said. Jake swore under his breath, reaching down to rearrange you. He pulled your legs out from your hips, hooking his elbows under your thighs and easing into you again.

“Jake, fuck,” you groaned, the new angle pushing him impossibly deeper. Pleasure curled hot in your core, stoked higher by the friction of Jake’s thrusts. Your body was still sensitive from your first orgasm, but his cock and his words had you hurtling towards that precipice again, sooner than you could’ve imagined.

“You too, sweetheart,” he gritted, but he couldn’t know, couldn’t feel this as much as you did.

“Jake,” you whimpered. “I’m want to come, please—”

“No,” Jake gasped, and your eyes flew open. His jaw was slack, his eyes hooded, but his expression was intense as he looked down at you. His mouth opened slightly when he pressed deeper into you again, but he gained control when he pulled back, your body protesting the loss of him.

“No?” you echoed, and he shook his head.

“We have to time it right,” Jake murmured, his cock shoving back into you, “if we want this to stick, honey, you have to come with me.”

Your eyes rolled back, at his words or from the steady press of his cock. “Jake—”

“Count us down, sweetheart,” Jake said, voice stern. He braced his hands on either side of you, his arms shaking as he held himself in check, but his expression steady. “I’ll get us there, but you tell me when you need it.”

Fuck, you were pretty sure you could come just then, if he told you to. But you bit your lip and nodded, rewarded by a slow push as Jake rolled his hips into you.

“Ten…” he prompted.

“Ten,” you repeated, not sure if you could make it that long. Jake pulled back as he stroked out of you, and you heard him spit a moment before a cool wetness covered your clit.

“You look so beautiful,” Jake whispered, his thumb brushing over your clit. “God, how unreal you’re going to look carrying my child.”

“Nine,” you gasped, your vision blurring as his finger worked over you.

“Fuck, with your stomach all round,” Jake broke off as he thrust into you sharply, “filled, carrying my child...”

His thumb moved in a circle with delicious, maddening pressure, and you moaned as his words settled over you. “Eight.”

“These tits,” Jake leaned forward, his shoulders pressing your thighs flat against the bed and his mouth closing over your breast, messily kissing you, “they’ll be fucking swollen, won’t they, as you get ready to nurse our child.”

Your back arched off the bed as his tongue worked over you, mirroring the motion of his thumb. His mouth was wet and warm and perfect, and heat pulsed through your body. You could feel everything and you keened as you tamped it down, knowing you had to wait.

“Seven,” you managed, and Jake hummed, you could feel it.

“So soft, swollen, and all full of milk,” Jake mumbled, switching to the other breast. “And when you’re aching and sensitive, I’ll be there for you—bet you’ll taste so sweet like that, won’t you, darlin’.”

The thought of nursing Jake was stunning, and you moaned when you realized he was sucking at you, nipping and miming milking your breasts. You felt your body tighten, your toes curling and you shook your head against the pillow.

“Six; I’m not going to—”

“You’ll make it,” Jake soothed, releasing your breasts and shifting back, returning his attention to your clit. “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart, I know you can do it. Just a little longer, have to make sure you’re ready for me.”

“Five,” you gasped, “I’m ready, Jake, please–”

Jake pressed more firmly on your clit, stealing your words as your breath caught. “I don’t know, honey—you’re doing so good for me, but it’s a big fucking load. That’s what you need, that’s what I need, so much fucking cum, to get my girl pregnant.”

You could only moan, surrendering to the feelings and emotions he was caressing out of you. Your skin felt white hot, and you could feel your legs trembling; it was only a matter of time before you lost control entirely.

“Four,” you whimpered, and Jake thrust into you again.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothed, his own voice tight as he fought off his orgasm. “You’re milking my cock so good, honey, can you feel it? Feel how hard you make me, how bad I need you, how I need to fill you?”

His rhythm faltered as his pace sped up, his cock plunging into you. Jake grunted at the top of every thrust, a sound of deep satisfaction that curled through you, gave you strength you didn’t know to hold off, to wait for him, to do it together.

“Three,” you cried.

“That’s it, sweetheart, because I do need to feel you, need to fill you, pump till you’re full of me and see me dripping out of my pretty cunt. Christ, you feel so good, you’re so good, how are you—”

Jake broke off, his hips slamming into yours, his cock reaching a place that had you seeing stars. Your eyes rolled back and you reached for him blindly, anchoring yourself with a hand in his hair, the other closing around his dog tags, moving with him as he thrust over you.

“Two,” you moaned.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” Jake groaned. “Almost there, almost time for me to fuck a baby into you. Fuck, you’ll be such a good mama, won’t you, so smart and beautiful and glowing when you’re carrying my child, all contented because I gave you everything, always will, and you can’t leave then, not with my seed—tell me you’re close, honey, are you almost there?”

“Jake,” you wailed, your count forgotten as your body trembled, his words closing around your heart like a vice. Jake’s pace was bordering on erratic, rhythm lost, his sweat dripping down to your joined bodies every time his hips met yours.

“Gonna give you a baby,” he gritted, “but you have to come with me, come with me now, please, fuck, sweatheart—”

Jake came with a shout, hoarse and sharp and he pressed his hips into you. He pulsed inside of you, his hips shuddering, and you could feel his cum streaming into you, hot and deep and what you needed. His head dropped to your chest as his body loosened with his release and you felt your orgasm break over you, like a thousand fuses lit at once.

The room swam, blinding light and senseless heat, pulsing over your skin like a heartbeat, and your awareness was distilled to him—Jake.

Jake’s beautiful groan when he finished, echoing around in your head, the holiest sound you’d ever heard.

Jake’s hips stuttering weakly against yours, thrusting even after he’d cum, like he couldn’t stop.

Jake’s voice, hoarse, whispering words you couldn’t discern, phrases you must’ve heard incorrectly, promises pressed against your skin.

Jake’s hands, shaking with the force of his orgasm, but smoothing over your skin, checking you, soothing you.

The light faded and you fell back into yourself, into your wrung out body, drenched in sweat and pleasure. The room felt hazy, heavy, and you realized Jake had matched his breathing to yours. You reached down, pushing the sweat-dampened hair off his forehead, smiling reassuringly when he looked up at you.

You could see it on the tip of his tongue, wanting to ask if you were okay, but he held it back, and you watched him shut down the part of him that was nervous about what had just happened.

“Hi,” you whispered, your voice hoarse.

“Hey,” Jake said back, clearing his throat. “Um, I can get a towel—”

“Can we stay?” you asked, hoping it didn’t sound too desperate. You just needed a minute, just a moment to bask in the warmth of what you’d pretended to feel, before your mind could catch up enough to pretend it away.

Jake hesitated for a moment, before nodding, and gently rearranging your legs, laying them down beside him before he shifted onto his back, pulling you with him. You went easily, resting on his chest and drawing a deep breath, thankful for the borrowed moment.

He probably wasn’t pulling out to avoid making a mess, knowing a washcloth was far away, but you could almost imagine it was because he craved the closeness as much as you did.

As you settled against his chest, one of Jake’s hands came up, absently running up and down your arm. You thought it had to count for something, the ‘friends’ part of ‘friends with benefits’, so you steadied yourself before you asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jake’s hand stilled, then resumed its slow brushing as he petted you. You knew he knew what you meant—you weren’t asking about the sex, you were asking about before.

“Not really,” he said quietly.

You’d expected as much. “Okay.”

Jake’s fingers drummed against your arm, and the room was quiet again. The sun was setting, casting the room in an orange light, like the inside of a lamp.

“I mean, if you want to, we can,” he hedged, after a minute.

You scoffed. “That doesn’t mean much; I always want to talk with you.”

Shit.

The words had slipped out before you could stop them, and you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you could take them back.

“We can ignore that,” you mumbled, and Jake chuckled softly, before sobering.

“If I tell you why,” he said, “can we ignore that, too?”

Ignoring and pretending, how you’d always expected falling in love to be.

Even though no one could see you, you rolled your eyes at yourself, and your malaise. You nodded into Jake’s chest, knowing he could feel it.

His hand was back to stroking your arm, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.

“You kinda looked like that kid,” he said.

Your heart stopped.

“What?” you managed.

“At Whole Foods,” Jake said, “when you were holding that little girl. I just came around the corner and it was like…like I saw a whole parallel life, one where someone married you, gave you kids. And I’d just walk by you in a grocery store, without knowing. Hell, even knowing, you looked like a family, like you fit together, like…”

He trailed off and your head physically ached as your mind whirred, processing his words. “Jake, she didn’t look anything like me.” “Her hair was similar,” he continued, a stubborn lilt to his voice, and you knew he wasn’t looking to be reasoned out of this.

“Okay,” you said, wetting your lips, waiting for Jake to finish the thought.

Only he didn’t.

He simply lay there, with you, his hand moving gently up and down your arm, seemingly content.

“So you decided you wanted to roleplay us getting pregnant?” you prompted, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else.

Jake sighed. “I hated it.”

You jolted at his words. “What?”

“Shit no, sweetheart, not that,” Jake said hurriedly. “Not what we—no, are you kidding, that was so damn hot—I meant seeing you in the store. With him. And holding her. It…I don’t know, it made me mad it wasn’t me.”

You pulled in a sharp breath, trying to find a platonic way to interpret that.

You could feel your heartbeat in your temples, so loud you couldn’t think, much less rationalize and you pushed yourself off of his chest. Your hips ached as you spread them again, settling your knees on either side of Jake as you looked down at him, still joined. Jake’s expression was guarded, but he let you look, shifting his shoulders on the pillows but meeting your eyes. Without your arm to stroke, his hand fell to the top of your thighs and resumed its motion there; you could tell the silence was making him nervous.

Well, that made two of you.

“I need you to be so fucking honest with me, Jake Seresin,” you said, proud of the way your voice was steady. “What does that mean?”

A hundred emotions flashed across Jake’s face before you could name them, and then he pushed himself up, settling you firmly on his lap as he brought his eyes level to yours.

“It should be me,” he said, “not with a kid, per se, and not just in Whole Foods, but people should look at us and see we fit.”

And then he kissed you.

For a moment, you were frozen.

This couldn’t be happening.

It had to be a weird, sex-induced dream where Jake told you he was jealous of an absolute stranger, jealous enough to admit he had something dangerously close to feelings for you.

But even as alarm bells sounded in your head, you knew this wasn’t a dream.

Because your body was sore in a very real way, the man in front of you was flushed, his fingers digging into your thighs with nervous tension, and he was kissing you carefully, so carefully, like he could pull back at any moment if you told him to.

Like hell.

You leaned into him, your hands wrapping around the back of his head to pull him closer to you. You felt him relax, felt his shoulders loosen and his arms wind around your waist, pulling your body flush against him. And this kiss was new, it was different, it was excitement and a little bit of embarrassment, at the foolishness of waiting so long.

You broke away, panting, and Jake rested his forehead against yours, his chest heaving. In the orange light, he looked gilded, too good to be true, like maybe he was Midas but you didn’t care if your skin turned to metal, so long as he didn’t stop touching you.

His long lashes fluttered, and your heart flipped at what you read in his green eyes as he opened them.

“Jesus, Jake,” you muttered, teasing, “you could’ve just told me you wanted to go steady.”

He chuckled, a warm low sound that you felt shake his body at the old-fashioned phrase.

“Yeah,” he said, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple, “but then we would’ve never discovered you had a breeding kink.”

Your jaw dropped and you pulled back, sputtering. “Excuse me—”

“I know, I know,” Jake shook his head, grinning, incorrigible. “But admit it: you loved it.”

You snapped your mouth shut, trapping the response that threatened to bubble out, words you hadn’t dared think, much less speak, before this moment. Jake looked at you, at your pressed-together lips and eyes that always said too much, and his smile softened.

“I know,” he said again, quietly, and he kissed you gently. Jake’s arms were tight around you and you leaned into him, letting it—whose kink it was, what you loved, what he knew—all go, knowing there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

taglist: @peakyrogers @hangmanbrainrot @wildbornsiren @princessofglitterland @mandylove1000 @daggerspare-standingby @blue-aconite @abaker74 @lt-bradshaw @dempy @callsignvalley @princessphilly @aurora-whispers @mxgyver @mlibbydp @bioodforbiood @thedroneranger

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once-a-pogue · 2 years ago

Text

Fucked Up - Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Words: 5.3k+ Type: Smut Summary: Hangman makes a mistake in training that could've cost your safety, and you've had enough of his way of being. Warnings: Fem!Reader [no mentions of race or bodytype]. Mentions of a possible accident in the jet, being a naval aviator, and lack of teamwork. SMUT [sex in communal shower, piv, no protection (she's on the pill), risk of getting caught, hair pulling].

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

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Jake knows he fucked up. Truly, fucked up bad. He has been called out by people like Phoenix or Maverick about how he’s not exactly a team pilot. He has always begged to differ. He has always been there in the case of emergencies and helped people out when they needed. Yet, his thick skull could never really understand how bad he is in tests or training.

You and him never really became friends in the years that you’ve known each other. You are closer to Phoenix and Fanboy than anyone else, but Jake likes what he has with you. It’s a healthy mixture of playful banter and insults whenever you two fly together.

You tease one other on everything. It has been like this for years and never changes. Jake likes to have someone to annoy. It’s just a little extra something for his ego to have someone that actually fights back.

Yet, even in the middle of all the fights and bantering, he always loved the way you would crack and eventually shine a smile at him. You would always turn your head so he wouldn’t see and think he won something in your discussions. And, even when it’s not as common as he would like it to be, he thrives on every bit of those days.

There are also other days that he swears that you are flirting with him. It may be after a few beers, but he indulges every word.

But, today was different. Whenever Jake screws up with you in the air, he gets an earful in the coms. He's your wingman, he’s supposed to make your flying feel safer by either his coms or his firepower.

Yet, not only is it difficult to keep up with his speed - something Maverick made sure to switch you up with Phoenix since you seemed to have an easier time with it -, he is almost dead silent the whole time.

If doing canyons and pulling 4G’s on each wasn’t bad enough, having to follow a reckless speedy pilot who doesn’t even get to use his coms whenever he needs to is simply a bonus you get to have. Jake is able to communicate, sometimes, but not always. And that is exactly how he messed up today.

He was going too fast because, even though you were constantly telling him in his ear to slow down, you were able to keep up with him, and he likes that. He thrives on that too with absolutely no shame. Yet, speed and tight spaces don’t go too well. The two of you were too close for the speed you were going in and, as soon as Jake noticed how close he was to the side of the mountain, he didn’t have time to say anything and simply decided to pull himself off.

You had good reflexes. You were able to not hit the mountain, but when you pulled off from Jake’s back, he also moved, meaning that you had to pull much farther back. If adrenaline wasn’t already high in your body, it was so much worse now. You almost hit Jake.

The circuit that you had to do is tight. It leaves no space for errors, and you two just so happened to do one.

Right as you were pulling away from Jake, you pulled upwards and directly in range of the missiles. A voice in the coms informed you right after, and your hold on the stick tightened with anger.

Your backseater was the one to explain in the coms what happened to Maverick, and Jake continued on with the course nonetheless.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so angry. You expected that as Jake continued on and you were left in silence on your way back, your anger would cool you down, but it didn’t.

You were annoyed. It was a mistake, sure, but one that could’ve been avoided with communication. If the two of you had reacted at the same time, this would’ve gone well. You probably would’ve finished it. But, no... Now, you have to try it all over again tomorrow.

Minutes later, you are still quiet in the coms, not really finding any strength in you to speak after what happened, but you still speak enough to do your job.

“You alright there, Chaos?” Hangman asks through coms.

You don’t answer, but your backseater does once noticing your silence.

“We’re good.” He said for you.

Jake lands before you, which you're happy with since it means he will be out of your way when you leave your own jet.

You let out a little breath as you wait your turn to land. With the golden sunlight hitting your face, you are silent, still trying to get yourself back to normal.

You’re called in for permission to land after a few minutes, and you easily do so.

It takes everyone some time to get out of the landing strip and then park the F-18, but you only feel relief when you're done.

The canopy hisses open as you calmly unstrap yourself, and the light breeze hits your face. You let your backseater leave first, and, only once he's a few steps back, you make your way off your seat and down the ladder.

Helmet off your head and get ready to leave, you're facing the building where the locker rooms are. You really only need a shower and go to bed. You truly do not want to have to deal with anything else.

No one really says anything to you, knowing it’s better to just leave you to cool off. Yet, not even ten steps after, you already hear a familiar voice in the wind.

“Hey, Chaos!”

You didn’t look over your shoulder, you simply ignore everything. And seeing you walk away without a word to everybody was worse for Jake than your silence in the coms. He was waiting for your lecturing and your disappointed sighs, but neither ever came to his ears.

He watches you walk away, unstrapping some of the things across your chest with a helmet in one hand as you do it. Jake waited with some hope in his heart for you to turn to him and just scream at the top of your lungs. But you never began to think to do such a thing.

Jake walks off from the conversation he was just having, not even remembering to excuse his abandonment in the first place, and starts over to you. You don’t turn to see whose steps are getting close, you only push the door of the building open and walk inside, not caring to hold it for Jake, behind you.

When he is able to get in as well, he takes a look at you. He doesn’t say anything and you don’t ever look at him, not even when you have to turn around the corner. Your eyes don’t ever lift to his, and your mouth doesn’t ever open.

Deep down he knows you wouldn’t listen to a single word if he spoke. Hangman never apologizes for any of his fuck ups. He simply finds excuses on why he fucks up. Never even comes close to muttering the word "sorry". And, because of it, you do not care.

As you get to the locker room, you expect him to stop following you, but you are very wrong. Jake walks side by side with you and stands there watching as you open your locker and begin to unzip your flight suit.

You unzip it at your thighs, undoing the laces right after, and Jake just stands there, watching you ignore him.

No one really gets in the locker rooms at this time, and you know you two were the last ones in the air today. You're completely alone with him for a good following minutes.

Right as he opens his mouth to speak, words are said by you first.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

Jake shuts his mouth and looks at you as if in shock. He feels a little bit of every emotion bubble in his chest, but the fact that he got you to talk just now, it’s still annoyingly a win in his book.

“Come on. Don’t be like that.” He says to you, and you hear the smile on his words. God, as if you could get any angrier. “Can you at least look at me?” He asks.

You slip your arms out of your flight suit, appearing in your white tank top, and continue ignoring him. The suit stays secure on your hips, and Jake begins to think of something else he could do.

He needs to ignore all that is going on in front of him. Ignore the way your skin is shining under the light because of sweat, how tight the tank top is to your chest, and especially how he can very much peek into your shirt on accident from where he stands.

“About what happened-” He tries again.

You stop moving to speak.

“But I do not want to talk.” You speak slowly, “Nor do I want to see your stupid fucking face, right now. So… leave.”

As soon as you had let anger get the best of you as you spoke, even when it was just a slip-up, you regret everything. Insulting someone like Jake was like adding fuel to a fire. It doesn’t make him angry, it excites him.

“My stupid fucking face, uh?” He repeats, and you don’t answer him.

Jake begins to move. In fact, he doesn’t walk away from where he stands, but his arms and hands do the work. Jake Seresin is beginning to undress too.

Your eyes quickly go over to him, but he’s not looking at you, his eyes are focused on every strap he’s undoing and every lace he’s untying. As soon as his hands come back to his chest, you force yourself to speak.

“What are you doing?” You ask him.

Your eyes meet and neither of you tries to look away. You just stare at one another. The looks of both of your eyes clash. Your hardened eyes are filled with anger, and his with nothing but mischief.

��Getting ready to shower.” He answers easily.

“This isn’t your locker room.” You remind him.

“I need to get you to talk to me, don’t I?” He says, pulling at the last strap on his chest as he finishes the sentence. “Nothing like making you have to see my stupid face for a little longer to make you talk.”

You watch him for just a few seconds, and Jake finally unzips and slips his upper body out of the suit. He has a tank top under it as well, but his tan skin shines with the light, and his ridiculously muscular arms and shoulders reach your field of view.

“I’m not talking” You assure him.

“And why not?” He doesn’t stop with the undressing, but he keeps his gaze on you constantly.

“Well, if you haven’t noticed already. I’m fucking mad at you.” You tell him, “Now, leave.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Leave.”

“Just talk to me.” He tells you, a grin appearing as he says that to you, his hands pausing the undressing.

You force yourself to look away and restart your undressing. The message is easily received by Jake as well. It’s entirely weird how neither of you even hesitates on continuing with stripping.

You’re one step ahead with the process as you now stand in the locker room with just your tank top and underwear. Jake swallows dry at the sight of your legs, but he keeps on going strong.

“You-” You begin to speak once more, ready to remind him that he cannot take a shower here and the many reasons why, but something stops you.

Jake’s shirt flies over to the bench beside you, and you swear that you have to hold your head in your hands to not blatantly stare at his naked chest. You slow down your breathing, trying to seem absolutely calm and collected, and, to your every bit of distaste, Jake notices it.

“I what?”

“You can’t shower here.” You tell him while staring forward into your locker. At this point, you’re spitting your words with anger. “Your stuff isn’t here.”

He stays quiet for a little bit and, out of habit, you look at him to find a reason for his silence. He offers you a shrug with a tight lipped grin, dismissing whatever you just said as if that wasn’t a great argument against his decision. As id someone will take a shower without something other than water.

“I’m sure we can share.” He tells you all so seriously.

You look at him for a little longer, forcing your eyes to stay on his face, and finally turn your entire body to face him. You two stand just a few inches away from each other, but neither of you hesitates or thinks of taking a step back.

You carefully look at the door of the room, scared that anyone could very much walk in on both of you, even when, deep down, you know how improbable it is. And then look at him, forcing yourself to remember what he did and how risky today was only because of him, and soon, annoyance covers your face again.

“Leave, Hangman.” You tell him in a low and stern tone.

He lowers his head so that the two of you stand eye-to-eye and he whispers, trying to match the low tone of your voice.

“No.” And his perfect white smile shines on his face.

You grab your towel from the bench, and as you go to grab the rest of your things, you pretend to forget about the man that is standing beside you. The same one that is just now standing in his boxers. You swear that you don’t even order your eyes and head to turn, but they try.

With all of the things you need in your hands, you hold them close to your chest, and you notice him step a little closer, leaning his shoulder onto the metal door of your locker.

You finally are ready move to the showers and slam your locker closed, turning your back to him. Jake is right on your tail yet only after a few seconds of distance due to his sight-seeing. You put down your towel by the last bench, the one closest to the exit, and enter the white room of the communal showers.

You can’t believe he’s still following you.

You put some things down on the ground by the shower head you’re going to use, and look over at Jake. The two of you standing in minimal clothing, looking at each other as if to see who will be the first one to pull out. It's a bad plan since the start because the two of you are the most stubborn people on the entire base.

You bring your hands over to your tank top and pull it up, throwing it over to the bench - right on top of your towel. Next up is your bra, and even Jake turns his head just in time to give you privacy.

It’s unbelievable how the two of you actually finish getting undressed and, without any hesitation, turn on the water.

If the two of you weren’t already tense, the cold water didn’t really help your case.

As the water turns automatically off (navy showers), you grab your soap and casually just lather yourself with it, acting as if everything is totally normal.

Your stomach turns and twists, yet also bubbles with some sort of anxiety as you stand near Jake. Jake eventually needs the soap too, and it doesn’t help that he takes it from your hands right as you’re done with it. The feeling of his larger hand against yours made some sort of heat run through you. His hand is larger, more calloused, strong, and with surely longer digits. Okay. You need to calm down.

“Let me know if you need help washing your back.” His voice echoes in the open room.

You pathetically aren't able to hold back a grin with his words.

“I’m sure you’d love that.” You tell him, trying to sound bitter.

He doesn’t answer, and you find yourself looking at him. Your grin is already gone. Jake is looking at you in the eyes, but your staring ends as you move to turn back on the water.

It’s difficult to have to keep looking at him in the eyes when his body is right there. When his hands are moving over his muscular arms, his hairy chest, or his abs.

The cold water shuts off your mind right away, calming down the heat of your own body. Jake doesn’t look away as quickly, but he finally has to force himself to do such a thing. He needs to stop thinking about how the water is washing and running down your skin, the way the soap must have looked all throughout your body, or the way your hands could feel on him.

Jake turns the cold water as well and looks at the ground as it hits his warming skin. You look at him for just a second as you finish up with the rinsing off the soap. You watch him as he closes his eyes under the water, and you shake your head while looking away again. Your staring will get you in trouble.

Your water is cut off shortly after, and you look over at Jake. He’s already looking at you. You don’t look as mad anymore, but he knows that as soon as he mentions the training again, which he will have to eventually, all of it will go down the drain.

“Can I have my soap back?” You ask him, seriously.

Jake smiles at you and right as he’s about to hand you the soap, his water cuts out, leaving you two to stand in silence. You bring your hand closer to his, and you carefully grab the soap from his palm. Your fingers touch, even with so much effort.

All of the warmth the two of you were able to wash away with the cold water has now come back, stronger than ever, right as the two of you stand completely naked before each other and try keep your eyes on each other’s faces.

“Still mad at me?” He asks over the overbearing silence.

You expected his words to reawaken your anger, but they don't. You still have some deep-rooted anger bubbling down when you remember the exact moment of your error as a team, but not as strongly as before. You look at him for just a little longer and shrug.

“Wouldn’t you?” You ask him fairly, “If I were the one that screwed up?”

“Maybe.” He nods, voice still low, “But not for too long.”

You almost laugh at his words. Jake Seresin is one of the biggest perfectionists of all time. Any pilot is, yet he takes the cake. He hates every time someone screws up his perfect timing, his perfect mission, his literally anything. You know he's lying, through and through.

“Is that so?” You ask him, tilting your head attentively.

His eyes quickly look over at your collarbones as he stares at you. Your words are enough to pull at his full smile, and, soon, his eyes are back on your face.

“Always.”

You hum at him, obviously doubting everything, and he is only more amused by it. You two stare at one another for a little bit in the same silence as before.

“Am I your favorite, Seresin?” You ask him. “Must be. With how quick I’m able to be forgiven.”

He chuckles at you, and you smile.

“Depends... Who’s your favorite wingman?”

The real answer floats in your mind, but you definitely have other plans.

“Rooster.” You nod as you speak, but your smile is your biggest enemy. It makes it obvious to the blonde that you never lied so hard in your life. “He’s the safest.”

Jake takes a step closer with your words and his perfect smile still shines on his face. You look up at him, noticing how the two of you have totally grown more than natural about your lack of clothing, and force your own entertainment to not seem so apparent.

“Is that so?” He asks, and you nod, “Safest.” He repeats as if he’s testing the word out loud.

He leans his head down closer to yours, worsening the heat spreading over your body, and you stare back at him.

“He never put me in danger.” You recall back at him, “Whereas for my second favorite…”

“Second favorite?” He smiles at that too.

“Coyote.” You smile back, “He's less safe, but still up there as one of my faves... And then, there's you. The worst of them all.”

He chuckles in your face at your choices and then nods.

“That’s fair.” He comments, “I actually had Phoenix as my favorite this whole time.”

You smack the side of his head for that and it makes the two of you laugh. Your eyes fall on the skin of his chest, and you take in the view. When you look back up, Jake catches you red-handed. Two complete seconds of silence and both of you with only one idea in mind.

Your lips touch and your heart practically jumps out of your chest. Jake was the one to close the space between you two. Your hands slide over to his neck, and you don't hesitate to kiss him back. Jake’s hands lay across the skin of your sides, and he pulls you closer.

Your naked bodies brush against each other, and Jake is the one to move you two around, while still in the kiss, and lean you against the wall.

Jake’s tongue touches your bottom lip and, as soon as you open your mouth and your tongues touch, the whole demeanor of the kiss and your touch changes. Your grip on the back of his neck, pulling him down harsher and closer to you; and Jake’s rough hands running through your body, touching every bit of skin he can reach.

Your fingers run through his wet hair, pulling at the strands when the kiss roughens exactly how you want it to. You sigh when Jake pulls away from the kiss and his lips begin to move down your neck. He bites onto the skin that he notices you to be more sensitive.

One of your hands comes down from his shoulders to his chest, running through his perfectly sculpted body, feeling every hilt of muscle as your other hand still grips onto the strands of his soft hair. Jake comes back up to kiss your lips, and you let out a soft moan. One that makes Jake’s whole body react as the vibrates against his lips.

He pulls away from the kiss and, for a split second, the two of you look into each other’s eyes.

Jake grabs your hips and turns you around.

“You’re on the pill, right?” He asks, and you sigh your answer.

“Yes.”

You lay one of your hands on the tiled wall and take a discreet deep breath, trying to hold yourself together.

Jake never really leaves your body untouched. His lips come back to kiss your shoulder, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he moves up to your neck and jaw. You lay your hand on the back of his head as he’s close enough, and his hands continue to grip your hips.

You arch your back, leaning closer to him as Jake continues to kiss your neck. His hands on your hips slide across your skin and feel one of them move in between your legs. His palm lays over your pussy, never trying to not do anything further, and you lean your forehead on your outstretched arm.

His fingers slide in between your folds, and you cling to his hair all over again. His middle and ring finger slide down to meet your entrance and he groans on your neck at the feeling of your juices covering his fingertips.

His other arm wraps around your torso and pulls you flush against him, letting you feel his cock, already hard, behind your back.

Jake’s fingers slide slowly inside of you, and you gasp. They're a severe difference from your soft hands, but that only worsens your ability to stay quiet and still. His fingers are much bigger and rougher than yours.

He begins to move them inside of you, letting all of your juices wet his skin, and then you feel his thumb over your clit.

You lean your head back, biting down at your bottom lip to stay quiet, and your head lays against Jake’s shoulder, exposing your neck further to his mouth. His fingers move inside you, curving and sliding into you. All in ways that make you have to fight the urge to close your legs, and that is soon abandoned, as Jake notices.

“You want to cum on my fingers first, sweetheart, or-” He asks against the skin of your neck.

“Just fuck me, Jake.”

He smiles at your words and before pulling his head back, he makes sure to nip at your abused skin one last time. His fingers are pulled out of you, and you groan ever so slightly at the fast action.

Jake maneuvers you with such ease that you almost don’t notice the way he pulls you away from him ever so lightly, lifts your hips, and just aligns the tip of his cock with your cunt. The arm he had around your torso stays tight, and slowly, you feel him slide inside of you.

Jake’s hand flies and covers your mouth faster than you expect him to and you cannot keep yourself quiet for much longer.

Any noise in the showers echoes. Anything. Any noise seems louder than it really is in the room. And when you have to control the sounds that leave your mouth as Jake slides his cock inside of you, it's harder to keep quiet. Much harder. He’s bigger than you thought, a lot bigger, and you swear that you feel like being slowly ripped in half.

The hand you have on his head comes to hold onto his wrist, feeling his soft skin against your palm. Jake gives you time, leaning his cheek on the side of your head, trying to control his breathing too as he feels your smooth wet walls squeeze him with anything he does.

After some time, Jake begins to move his hips and you hold onto him tighter. His thrusts into you make you close your eyes and lean your head back further, feeling and loving the way he stretches you and already fucks you so well.

His movements gain speed and remaining quiet gets harder for Jake too. He holds back any grunts or groans, he closes his eyes tightly and holds you closer to him to fight the urge of letting anything past his lips. Soon, the sound of his thrusts is also audible in the room and no matter how much you two try to hide it, they’re there. Everything is so silent, you can hear the sound of your skin slapping loudly and both of your heavy breathing.

A little moan escapes both your lips and Jake’s hand as you feel his dick directly hit your g-spot. It sounds like a little scream, even though muffled, it still echoes and makes Jake almost feel himself go entirely crazy. He leans his head back against yours, and repeats what he just did, secretly wanting you to slip up again. And he accomplishes exactly that.

Your hold on his arm gets tighter and soon your hips move against his as he drills into you. You continue to let out soft little noises, all of them echoing through the room and possibly ruining your plan to stay secret to everyone that could be outside of the locker room. The walls of your pussy have grown impossibly wetter and tighter around Jake, and he knows that you’re already close.

It’s all a mixture of the pleasure from the sex with the risk of getting caught. It all makes another type of adrenaline course through your blood. Your every action can be risky as you can be very much caught by anyone that could either need something from the room or simply clean it. Any of your superiors can walk in on you two too.

You sob out a moan against Jake’s palm, and he forces you closer to him. He uncovers your mouth for just a second and uses his hand on your chin to turn you to him. Your lips and tongues touch into a messy and sloppy kiss. The two of you almost can’t even concentrate enough to do it. You force yourselves to stay quiet, and you feel like you’re going to explode already.

Jake covers your mouth again and feels you grind your hips against his every time you connect. Your walls squeeze him tighter and tighter, and your small moans become louder underneath his hand. Jake never falters on his thrusts, sliding his dick back and forth inside of you just like before, and, with just one harsher thrust, you come undone around him.

Jake covers your mouth, trying to make you stay as quiet as humanly possible, but your moans do spill. A hand can only muffle so much, and Jake is secretly praying to hear every single one of them, fighting his urges to just uncover your mouth entirely.

Your walls squeeze him so tight, and you move against his body in tiny spasms in a way that it doesn’t take Jake much longer to cum as well. He brings the arm he has around your torso over to your hips to hold you in place. You let moans spill out due to the overstimulation, and Jake’s thrusts get faster yet sloppier with each one going into you.

His head comes to the crook of your neck once more, and your hand comes back to cling to his hair. The small pain of the pulling at the strands drives Jake to his last needed stimulation, and he finally feels his muscles contract much tighter than before. You grind your hips against him, and Jake finally reaches his climax as well.

Your movements never pause, no matter how tightly he holds onto your hips, and the ropes of his cum fill your insides. He groans onto your neck and you turn your head to pull him into a kiss. The kiss is softer than before and you’re the one that dominates it, this time. Jakes kisses you back and even chases your lips whenever you try to pull back.

Jake loosens his hold on you and you two finally pull away from your kiss. He disconnects your hips, and you gasp out loud at the feeling. Jake eyes you down as he does it, watching his cum slowly slide out of you, and the image alone makes him close his eyes to stay sane.

You turn back around slowly as Jake still holds onto you, and your chests are held flush together. The two of you are breathing heavily while looking at one another, and he’s the one to break the silence.

“I better be your favorite wingman, now.” He whispers, his tone never so serious.

As if he wasn't already.

Hope you enjoyed this!

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