#Jake Seresin Angst | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mickandmusings · 2 months ago

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indifferent

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader

word count: 2.4k

summary: a year ago, the sight of jake seresin would've sent her into a flurry of tears. now, as she stares at him chatting up the bleach-blonde at the bar, all she feels is a deep hatred for the man who charmed the room with his stupid texan accent and encapsulating green eyes.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!!! seriously, this is actually a lot more smutty than usual for me; this is my first attempt at more serious smut so it's not good but we're trying new things!; angsty yet fluffy; exes to enemies to lovers (these two hate each other); no use of Y/N; sort of mean!jake, but not really; reader is described as wearing a skirt

based on megan moroney's 'indifferent'

As she walks into the Hard Deck, she's convinced the universe is doing everything it can to royally fuck her over.

She'd hoped for a nice night with some random but handsome Naval personnel, make him pay for drinks, give him a rather steamy and heavy make out session, and leave before it can go any further. When she enters from the beach side doors, her eyes scan the room for...Brayden? Brandon? Brian? She couldn't really remember the name attached to his Tinder profile, only remembering the beauty of a Bronco in his pictures, but he wasn't important. What was really important was the spine-chilling hate crawling up her chest as she spots the khaki-uniform-clad blonde at the bar.

Jake fucking Seresin.

Her eyes narrow, knowing her night had already soured, and it hadn't even started. She and Jake had a....history, of sorts. By history she meant deep-seeded rage and hatred for one another after a failed relationship. A year ago, she had been in a mutually exclusive relationship with the aforementioned Lieutenant Seresin, well, one she had thought had been mutually exclusive. Until she found herself worrying and fretting every time he went out with his friends. And her gut had been right, because only six months into the relationship she'd had the dreaded 'hey girl, is this your man?' message sitting in her Instagram DM. When he came home that night and had denied it all, vehemently, she might add, it had escalated to a screaming match and her storming out of the house. From that moment on, she hadn't even bothered to check-in on what he was doing in his life. She hated Jake Seresin, and as much as she told herself she was indifferent to what he was doing with the bleach-blonde giggling next to him at the bar, she knew her skin itched to ruin his night.

Instead, she decided to be the bigger person. In her direct line of vision, she found an empty table in the corner and made her way towards it. She had passed the bar successfully, and she was merely inches away from taking her claim on the seat when his southern accent tumbles into her ears.

"Didn't expect to see you here, darlin'."

Fuck me now.

She takes a deep breath before turning around meeting his tall figure. He hadn't changed, still muscular and broad, big green eyes and well-kept blonde hair. She rolls her eyes, tapping her nails against the table nonchalantly. She didn't care about him, and she would not fall victim to his charms-never again.

"What do you want, Seresin?"

His eyes widen, a shit-eating grin creeping on his face as he raises his hands in mock surrender.

"Damn, sweetheart, I'm just sayin' hello."

"Yeah I bet. Hey, Jake. Now, you better scurry back to your girl at the bar before she gets scooped up by one of your little Navy buddies."

He looks back at Coyote's girlfriend he had been casually catching up with, certainly not flirting, but if it riled up the girl in front of him, well, then he'd play into it. Jake shrugs, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Not too worried about it, not really interested."

Yeah, I bet.

"So what do you want with me? Because you're not here to play catch up, Seresin."

Jake takes a good look at her, she's obviously here for a date. Her outfit is casual enough for the bar, but accents her curves enough to attract some appeal. Even enough to make his own pants feel tight. Whoever she was here with was one damn lucky man, no matter how jealousy burned at Jake's chest.

"You look good tonight."

She audibly scoffs, rolling her eyes at the compliment.

"If you're here to grovel about what happened, save it. You should've done that a year ago."

Jake bristles, annoyed. Their blow-up fight had been a simple case of misunderstanding. He hadn't been flirting with the girl at the bar that night, he'd been helping her escape a creep who had been following her around the bar. He had to admit, the photo had been a little...compromising, when taken out of context. She'd never even given him a chance to explain himself before blowing it out of the water. They'd both yelled at one another, not bothering to hear either side of the other's statements. She left full of shaking anger, and he hadn't seen her since, until now.

"Maybe I could've groveled if you would've listened to me for two damn minutes."

She swings her head around, her own feelings bristling as she raises her voice.

"Listen to you?! The evidence was pretty damn convincing, Jake!"

He breathes deeply, cutting his green eyes to Phoenix standing at the pool table. The brunette lifts a brow in his direction. Jake knows this is going to escalate quickly, both of their tempers flaring, and for the sake of not ruining his reputation in front of his coworkers, he grips her arm and takes her outside to the parking lot.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Get your hands off of me!"

As they approach the spot where his truck is parked, he lets go of her and she crosses her arms.

"You're yellin' at me like some kind of crazy in there. My teammates are in there-"

"Oh! God forbid the great Hangman is embarrassed in front of his friends."

She's angry, flaring with an annoyance so great she's blind to what she's saying. Jake, a man known for his ego, seems to flare in the same manner. His voice is biting when he speaks.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it!"

"I swear to God, you must get off on the idea of pissing me off!"

They're loud, yelling over one another about trivial things-her being here on a date, him flirting at the bar with another girl, stupid things that didn't amount to much, but nearly anything could fuel the fire between them. Both were still ridiculously attracted to one another, despite everything, and their feelings ran deep. Jake's face is red-between the heat of California and his searing annoyance, he had begun to work up a sweat. Not to mention how incredibly hot she looked when she was pissed. Their voices could not get any louder at one another, spouting off any detail they could think of. Finally, it draws to a head when she spits out her next sentence, her tone biting.

"You know, I fucking hate you, Jake Seresin."

Jake chuckles dryly, no humor lacing his tone.

"That's a harsh claim comin' from the girl givin' me fuck me eyes."

She recoils, crossing her arms over her chest. She knows he's right, despite her annoyance with him, she knows there's still a fire between them, one she tries to swallow despite her blood burning and her heart racing.

"You wish, asshole."

"Yeah, I do."

His response shocks her, his tone softer than before, but his eyes nearly predatory. He can feel his usual roomy uniform grow tight, his jaw clenched tightly. Her eyes dart between his own as they glimmer in the moonlight, and she finds herself unable to find a retort. No worries, Jake's voice oozes with charm and seduction.

"What? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden, darlin'? You sure were all talk only a few seconds ago."

"Y-You don't mean that."

Her voice comes out small and unsure, her throat feeling dry and her entire being throbbing with the tingle of desire.

"Don't mean what?"

He comes closer, eyes never falling from her own, his calloused hands coming around her hips. He almost expects her to flinch out of his touch, but she lets him hold her against his own hips. She can see and feel the evidence of his own arousal, the usual light color of his eyes dark with lust.

"You think I'd lie about wantin' you? You're a damn fool if you think that, I've thought about you since the night you ran out my door."

She stills, her heart racing as she manages to form a thought.

"Y-You cheated on me, I'm not falling for this."

She goes to turn from his hold, but his grip on her hips is tight.

"No."

His voice is firm, demanding.

"That ain't what happened. You just never gave me a second to explain it. So I'm gonna talk, and you're gonna listen, got it?"

His voice was serious, but he was never intimidating or scary. Jake might be an asshole, but he'd never lay a hand on her, not like that.

"I wasn't flirtin' with that girl, never did, not once. That girl asked me to help her, and whoever sent you pictures of us got it all out of context. I might be a dick but I wouldn't do that to you, and I thought you knew that."

She looks at him, conflicted between wanting to jump his bones or punch him square in the jaw. She settles on simply asking a question.

"So why did you never try to call me? O-Or text me to explain?"

"Would you have listened?"

She already knew the answer to that.

"No."

He raises an eyebrow, nodding his head in a knowing look. Both halves of the couple are quiet for a minute, not knowing where to go from here. She's the first to break the silence.

"So, what does this mean?"

Jake shrugs.

"Nothin' if you don't want it to. But if you want me like I want you right now, I'd be okay with that, too."

The heat-filled tension is almost palpable, both of their chests heaving with barely contained want. Jake wants nothing more than to throw her over his shoulder and take her in the backseat of his truck, but this isn't his decision. It's hers-she has to decide if he's what she wants.

She cocks her head to the side before looking back up at him.

"And if I do want you like you want me?"

He feels himself twitch in his godforsaken uniform.

"Then you say the word and I'll make you forget whatever little shit you came here to meet."

In all honesty, she already had forgotten about...Bryson? Fuck, she really couldn't remember the poor guy's name.

"I swear to God, Seresin, if you don't touch me I'll lose my fucking mind."

Jake grins, pulling her flush against him.

"Well we can't have that can we, darlin'?"

His lips meet her own with little warning, a frenzy of clashing teeth and fumbling hands. Jake's hands meet on her back dangerously low, before he's placing his palms flat on her ass, pulling her up and her legs wrap around his waist. Her body flames at even the smallest stimulation, and when his hard-on meets her core, she lets out a provocative moan. Jake is going blind with an unbridled, insatiable want, and he wants-no-needs her, now.

"Baby," he grunts as her hips roll into his own. "You gotta stop that or I'm gonna take you right here in this goddamn parkin' lot."

She pulls back from his gaze, giving him a look as she breathes heavily, her lips plump from his fervor.

"When have we ever been above fucking in your back seat?"

Jake shakes his head and slams open the back door of his truck, wasting zero time tossing her lightly against the leather seats. Once, not so long ago, she would've given him shit for his ridiculous truck, but in this moment, with nothing but pure lust in her eyes, she was thankful for his spacious back seats and tinted windows. He slams the door behind him, and effectively clicks the lock attached to his keys before tossing them into the passenger side seat, his hands now free to grasp the supple flesh of her bottom. His lips return to the open plain of her neck, and she sighs, knowing he was headed towards the sweet spot in the junction of her neck and jaw. He finds it within seconds, and she chokes on a gasp. Her hands find purchase in his blonde locks, a lot less soft from the gel, but still comfortable. Jake groans against her collarbone from the sensation alone, his hips subconsciously thrusting to meet against her own. His lips travel down to the exposed top of her chest before he pulls back, tossing his uniform top and undershirt, dog tags dangling down to brush against her skin. He looks down at her with his hands grasping her hips.

"You sure about this?"

She nods, she'd never been more sure.

"I need your words, baby."

God, this man was going to kill her.

"Yeah, I'm sure, Jake."

In one swift move, he's yanking down the skirt on her hips, her undergarments with it. His knee separates her legs, leaving her completely exposed to his eyes alone. He shakes his head and tuts, smiling the infamous Hangman grin.

"As beautiful as the day I lost 'er."

He darts back down between her legs before beginning to ravish her completely. The next long stretch of time is spent with both of them completely lost in one another. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the air, mingling with cries of pleasure, mangled gasps, and the whispers of each other's names. By the time they both fall against one another after their heights, they're panting and sweating, completely sated and exhausted. The air is quiet, only their heavy breaths between them. Jake is the first to speak after a bout of nothingness.

"Who were you here to meet with anyhow? Hard Deck doesn't seem like somewhere you'd come for shits and giggles."

She takes a breath, rolling over to lie on his chest, tucking her head under his chin as his large hand grips her hip, pulling her closer.

"Met some guy on Tinder. Brayden? Bryson? I don't remember, just saw a really nice Bronco in his pictures. Seemed cute enough for a casual Friday night."

Jake's eyes widen, he moves his head to his hand, propping himself up to look down at her.

"Bradley, maybe?"

She shrugs.

"Yeah, maybe, why?"

"He got a mustache, lots of funky patterned shirts?"

She furrows her brow, wondering how he knew.

"Yeah, why?"

Jake groans as he lays back down, running a hand over his face. She giggles, leaning up to prop her head on his chest.

"What?"

Jake grins.

"I can't believe I was about to lose you to Bradshaw of all people."

She listens to him chuckle, but she doesn't return the action. She shakes her head, pushing blonde hair out of his face.

"You won't lose me, not again."

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thewulf · 4 months ago

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Easy Skies || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Feeling cuddly so you end up cuddling Jake for the first time in the early stages of your relationships. How this would lead to them napping together? Nothing but praises and love affirmations between them. Soft kisses. Readers first kiss with Jake.

A/N: Ahhh sorry I've been gone! Been enjoying summer :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.7k +

T/W : None just fluff

It’s been several weeks since you and Jake officially started seeing each other. You met at a community event honoring local heroes where Jake shared stories of his missions and the places his career had taken him. Your own interest in aerial photography sparked a quick and deep conversation between the two of you leading to an instant connection.

It was going really well. The two of you taking your time with everything. He shared stories of how we was reckless in the past and you were already very cautionary with types like his. So, you tested him a bit. Only kisses on the cheek, nothing more. And he did passed with flying colors. He never pressured you, never pushed for more. But now you were ready for something more. You're spending a lazy Sunday at Jake’s apartment for the first time. His place reflects his life as a pilot. It was decorated with navigational charts. With different models of aircraft he’s flown and photographs from around the world. The walls hold framed maps marked with the various places he's visited, each one holding a story he's eager to share with you.

As the afternoon fades into evening, you both settle into the comfortable couch in his living room. The soft music playing in the background mixes with the mellow golden light streaming through the windows creating a serene atmosphere. It's a rare and quiet moment for Jake who is usually caught up in the demanding schedule of a Navy pilot. You cherish the peaceful intimacy that has formed between you. Today’s simplicity is a precious contrast to the complexities of your usual routines.

As you both relax into the couch Jake recounts a comical error from his last training exercise. He'd accidentally swapped his day’s checklist with another pilot’s which led to some light-hearted confusion and teasing from his crew.

“You seriously went through half the pre-flight with the wrong list?” you laugh while shaking your head in amusement.

“Yep,” Jake admits with a grin. “It was only when I called out the wrong coordinates that someone caught on. We all had a good laugh about it later.” The conversation winds down as you both sink into the rhythm of each other’s presence, comfortable and at ease. There’s a genuine simplicity in the way you interact, no need for constant chatter. Jake’s job as a pilot often surrounds him with high stakes and rigor making these peaceful moments particularly valuable.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Just being able to sit and talk without rushing anywhere,” Jake comments. His tone relaxed.

“It really is,” you agree as you smiled over at him. “Especially with good company.”

He returns your smile with a warm, appreciative one of his own. As the room fills with the soft hum of a new song the day closes around you both, cozy and familiar. Like a well-loved jacket that’s been washed a hundred times. It’s easy, it’s comfortable. And right now, it’s exactly what you both need.

As the afternoon shadows stretch across the room a yawn escapes you, shifting the comfortable silence. Jake catches it and chuckles, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Tired?” he teases before nudging you gently with his elbow.

“Maybe a little,” you admit while stretching your arms above your head. “It’s been a long week.”

Jake nods understandingly. His gaze softening. “How about we take a little nap then? Recharge a bit?”

You playfully raise an eyebrow. A smile tugging at your lips. “Only if you’re joining. I hear you’re the best pillow around here.”

Jake’s laughter fills the room, warm and infectious. “Is that so? Well, I can’t let you down then.” He shifts himself making room on the couch and pats the spot next to him "Come here," he says softly. His voice blending with the low melody. With a contented smile you slide closer until you're nestled against him. Your head resting comfortably on his broad chest. You can feel the steady beat of his heart through the soft fabric of his shirt. A reassuring rhythm that echoes quietly in your ear. Jake's arm wraps securely around you with his hand resting gently on your back. The warmth of his touch and the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he takes bring an overwhelming sense of peace and safety.

For a few moments you simply listen, taking in the sound of his heartbeat and the soft, steady breaths he draws. It's a new level of intimacy of sharing this quiet closeness without the need for words. Jake's hand moves in slow, soothing strokes across your back further relaxing you. With each passing second the world beyond the walls of Jake’s apartment seems to drift further away. You're drawn into this serene bubble where the only things that matter are the soft fabric of the couch, the gentle caress of Jake's hand, and the comforting rhythm of his heart.

Jake breaks the silence with a whisper that's barely audible over the music. "This is nice," he murmurs. His breath tickling your ear. You hum in agreement as you were too content and relaxed to form words. The trust and affection in this simple act of cuddling deepen, marking a beautiful, quiet milestone in your growing relationship.

As the soft jazz continues to play creating a soothing backdrop, the room grows quieter still. The comfort of Jake’s embrace coupled with the warm, gentle atmosphere lulls you deeper into relaxation. His breathing becomes slower, more rhythmic, signaling his own descent into sleep. You feel his grip tighten just a bit. A subconscious affirmation of his presence and protection. Gradually, the space between wakefulness and sleep blurs. Your thoughts drift away, anchored only by the steady heartbeat beneath your ear. In the safety of Jake’s arms sleep seems like the most natural progression. Without planning it you both drift off. The world narrowing down to the couch where you lie together.

The nap isn't long but it’s restorative. Exactly what you needed. As you both sleep there’s an unspoken exchange of trust and comfort. It’s one thing to share conversations and activities but another to share such vulnerability as sleep in each other’s presence. This mutual comfort speaks volumes about the trust and closeness developing between you.

Time slips by quietly and when you eventually stir it’s to the feeling of Jake’s fingers lightly brushing through your hair. His movements are soft and careful, designed not to wake you but to reassure himself you’re still there. You open your eyes slowly meeting his gaze which is filled with a quiet joy.

“Hey,” he whispers. As if speaking too loudly might break the spell of the peaceful moment you've shared.

“Hey,” you respond with your voice just as soft. The simple exchange feels like a gentle reconnection to the world affirming the comfort and affection that wrapped around you both as you slept. The nap together was simple yet intimate. It deepens the connection between you. Each quiet breath shared adding another layer to your growing relationship.

The afternoon light has softened into a cozy twilight by the time you both stir from your nap. You’re still wrapped in Jake’s arms and as your eyes meet there’s a playful spark between you that feels both exciting and comforting. “Welcome back,” Jake murmurs. His voice low and slightly husky from sleep. He leans forward pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Then one on the tip of your nose, which makes you giggle.

“Is that how you wake up all your guests?” you tease. Your voice light and tinged with laughter.

“Only the special ones,” he replies with a grin with his eyes crinkling at the corners. He doesn’t stop there though. His kisses wander from your cheek to your jawline, each peck light and teasing, drawing more giggles from you. The laughter that fills the room is warm, echoing the affectionate mood.

Jake’s playful kisses continue by tracing a path down the side of your neck, sending a shiver of delight through you. You can’t help but catch him by the collar before pulling him back up to meet your eyes. “You’re going to make it impossible to leave this couch,” you laugh while still holding onto his shirt.

“That’s the plan,” he whispers back. His voice playful yet sincere. Then in a swift, fluid motion he captures your lips with his in a kiss that’s deeper and more intentional than the playful ones before. This kiss feels like a culmination of all the gentle pecks, each one adding a layer to the profound connection you’re building together.

As you break away there’s a shared smile. A mutual understanding of the affection and joy weaving through each interaction, each touch, each kiss. The playfulness adds a lightness to your relationship. He made moments like these not just romantic but genuinely fun, enriching the bond you share with laughter and love. After the laughter subsides and the atmosphere settles into a comfortable quiet, Jake looks at you with a contented smile. His eyes reflecting a gentle appreciation. "These moments with you. They're the highlight of my week," he says quietly. His voice carrying a note of sincerity.

Feeling a warm glow from his words you nod and smile softly. Your response understated but genuine. "It always feels different when I'm with you. It's easy, you know?" Your words are simple, echoing the straightforwardness of your time together.

Jake's response is a nod, his smile lingering. "Let's keep it that way," he replies. His agreement simple yet full of promise. The conversation feels natural, reflecting the comfort and understated affection that characterizes your relationship. As twilight transitions into the deep blue of night neither of you feels ready to break the comfortable cocoon you've formed on the couch. Jake glances at the clock, then back at you with a playful challenge in his eyes.

"How about we order some dinner?" he suggests. His tone casual but hopeful. "I'm not quite ready for this day to end. But I don’t think I can get up quite yet."

You laugh while agreeing instantly. "Sounds perfect. What are you in the mood for?"

"Pizza okay with you?" Jake asks already reaching for his phone to place the order.

"Always a good choice," you reply settling back against his chest while feeling utterly at ease.

The wait for the food is filled with more soft conversations. Each shared thought strengthening the bond between you. As the evening unfolds it becomes clear that days like these are just the beginning of what you both hope will be many more shared experiences.

When the food arrives, you set up a makeshift dining area on the coffee table, continuing the easy flow of the day into the evening. Each slice of pizza comes with stories you share. Each laugh making the room warmer. As the evening winds down, you find yourselves eagerly talking about other things you could do together, from movie nights to hiking trips. The night ends not just with satisfied appetites but with the excitement of planning future outings. It's clear that your relationship is blossoming. Full of promise for more beautiful days and nights shared in each other’s company.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy @mrsevans90 @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @missxmav @kajjaka

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tongue-like-a-razor · 1 year ago

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Ex Appeal

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin gets a frightful visitor on Halloween.

CW: Angst, fluff, suggestive themes, alludes to past cheating

WC: 3500+

This fic was written for @roosterforme’s Rocktober challenge! Inspired by the song Poison by Alice Cooper.

Masterlist

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jake says with a look of disgust – as much of it as he can muster. You, after all, have been his greatest source of misery as of late.

You give him a dirty look – your specialty – and barge into his home as though you own the place and Jake’s just a goddamn doorman. “I need to lay low for a bit.”

Jake narrows his eyes as he turns to face you. He keeps the door open because he’s still hoping you’re going to leave any minute. “Lay low?” he asks mockingly. “What’d you do? Commit murder?” He wouldn’t be surprised.

You peek around his arm to glance out at the street. “Someone’s looking for me.”

Jake watches you impassively. “Is it the police?” Then, after a moment, he adds, “Is there a reward?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re the only one in this neighbourhood that I trust,” you say, pushing on the door that Jake is obstinately keeping open.

Jake nods. “Shame that trust doesn’t go both ways,” he comments contemptuously.

You eye him irritably. “Close the door.”

“Tell me why you’re here.”

“I just did.”

Jake shakes his head. “You could not have been more vague.”

You sigh. “Close the door and I’ll tell you.”

Jake exhales warily and shuts the front door. He surveys your outfit. “What are you wearing?”

You glance down at your ensemble: a black, form-fitting body suit and fishnet stockings. You’re also sporting knee-high boots and you’ve got what looks like six extra arms coming out of your back. You look back up at him with an annoyed expression on your face. “It’s Halloween,” you snap defensively.

Jake grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” He gestures to a cauldron full of candy sitting near the front door. “There’s gonna be a fuck-tonne of children coming through here trick-or-treating in like half an hour and you’re dressed like a gothic porn star.”

Instead of being offended, you lift your eyebrows in surprise. “You’re handing out candy?”

Jake sighs and places his hands on his hips, fixing you with a stern look. “Yeah, I’m handing out candy. That’s what adults do on Halloween.”

You stare at him as a smile materializes on your face. “Is that your costume?” you ask facetiously, gesturing at his checkered polo shirt. “Adult?”

Jake squares his jaw to mask the fact that he found your joke humorous, but you seem to notice the shift in his features because your own grin broadens. “My mom got me this shirt,” he says.

“Ah,” you respond. “A fellow adult.”

Jake tears his gaze away from you, focusing instead on the shiny, pointed toes of your stilettos. “Why’re you here?” he asks again, this time a lot less peevishly and a lot more grimly.

You bend down to unzip your boots. “I’m a spider,” you say. “Black widow.”

Jake glances up to meet your gaze as you straighten up. He nods. “Suits you.”

You give him a flat look. “I was at the bus stop and some dude started harassing me.”

Jake’s eyes trail down your scantily glad body. “You don’t say,” he remarks sarcastically.

Your jaw drops in outrage. “Are you victim blaming?”

Jake chuckles and shakes his head. “It was a joke.”

You cringe. “It was in poor taste.”

Jake closes his eyes and lets out a tired sigh. He’s had about enough of your attitude. “You wanna talk about poor taste?” he asks. “Where’s that lovely boyfriend of yours?”

You watch him sourly. “We’re not together anymore, if you must know,” you reply.

Truth be told, Jake probably didn’t need to know. But, now that he does, it’s only fitting that he respond with, “Shocking.”

You give him the finger. As if he were the one who’d been dating two people at the same time.

There’s a knock on the door. “Fuck,” he mutters, giving you a moody look. “Hide,” he says. “Unless you’d rather traumatize a bunch of eight-year-olds.”

You grimace at him. “You think eight-year-olds haven’t seen worse?”

Jake scans the low-cut neckline of your costume. He can’t think of anything more erotic if he tried. But, if he’s being honest, it’s not the outfit so much as your insane body that’s the culprit. He reaches out to grab your hand and pull you aside, making sure you’re tucked safely behind the door before opening it.

He smiles down at the two little kids on his porch when they yell, “TRICK-OR-TREAT!” at the top of their lungs.

“Well, well, well,” he says cheerily, bending down to grab a handful of candy out of his cauldron. “Who do we have here?” He puts the candy into one of their bags. “Are you a mermaid?”

The girl nods happily.

Jake wows in amazement. “You’re the prettiest mermaid I’ve ever seen!” He bends down to grab another handful of candy and drops it into the second child’s bag. “And you must be Iron Man!” he exclaims. “That’s one cool costume, bud. You look great!”

When Jake finally closes the door and looks at you, he sees that you’ve got your arms folded over your chest and a giant smirk on your face.

“What?” he asks darkly.

Your smile widens. “That was cute.”

Jake takes a step from the door and looks away from you. He’s not about to get sucked back into your web of lies, no pun intended. “You wanna hand some out?” he asks.

“I thought you don’t want me traumatizing the children,” you respond sarcastically, stepping out of the corner toward him.

Jake glances at you with a small smile. “I can give you some clothes, if you like.”

You wiggle your eyebrows. “Adult clothes?”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Come on, before more kids show up.”

He makes his way into his bedroom and grabs a pair of jogging pants and t-shirt and brings them back out for you. “Bathroom’s down the hall,” he says.

“I remember,” you respond, but you’ve already started to remove your bodysuit.

Jake turns away in alarm and holds out the clothes for you. “Do you?”

“Come on, it’s not like you haven’t seen it all before,” you say. “Shoot, I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Jake groans. “Are you for fucking real?”

“You got a pair of boxers?”

Jake swallows uncomfortably. “Hold this,” he instructs, keeping a hand over his eyes as he hands you the crumpled clothes and starts back for his bedroom.

“You know what? I’ll just go commando.”

Jake takes a deep, cleansing breath and turns back toward you. He keeps his eyes closed and holds a hand out so as not to bump into anything as he walks. Of course, as luck would have it, he stumbles into you.

“What the fuck, dude?” you exclaim as his hands cling to your naked body, steadying you so you don’t fall over.

Jake squeezes his eyes tightly so that they don’t open inadvertently. “Sorry, sorry!” he winces, finally stabilizing both himself and you. He feels the softness of your skin underneath his palms as his hands do a final sweep along your back before he lifts them away from your body with a grimace. He’s bracing himself for a punch in the face.

“Are you a dumbass? Open your eyes!” you screech. “You’ve seen me naked how many times?!”

“Twelve,” he responds, a little hoarsely. All he can think about is how smooth your skin felt in his hands not a moment ago and it’s driving him a little mad.

“It was a rhetorical question,” you say pointedly. “You counted?”

“Are you decent yet?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“I’m never decent,” you mutter under your breath and Jake can’t help but smirk. “But if you’re asking whether or not I’m dressed. Then, yes, I am.”

Jake releases a heavy sigh and opens his eyes cautiously.

You scowl at him. “What, you think I’m tricking you?”

“Well, you aren’t treating me.”

You stare at him coolly. “You’re such a delight. Can’t imagine why we ever broke up.”

“Need a reminder?” he calls as you make your way back into the front hall. “It’s because you cheated on me!”

You’re standing at the front door with your arms crossed. “I didn’t cheat, for the last time,” you retort. “We weren’t exclusive.”

Jake presses his lips into a thin line. “I was exclusive.”

You shake your head in frustration. “Let’s just agree to disagree.”

“Fine.”

“Great.”

There’s another knock on the door. You sigh irritably and reach for the doorknob.

“Hello!” you exclaim enthusiastically the moment the door is open.

The mob of children on Jake’s doorstep all look up at you with exuberant grins and yell their opening line in a loud, messy chorus.

You react with an animated gasp. “Oh my goodness! You guys are a frightful bunch!”

The kids laugh. Indeed, they’re dressed as zombies, ghosts, and vampires, and, when you comment on their appearance, they growl and make scary faces at you. Jake smiles at them and then at you as you distribute the candy from the cauldron excitedly.

Once the door is closed, however, you drop the act, giving him an icy look as you settle yourself on the little bench near the door.

Jake fights the urge to sit next to you and maybe get a little lost in the smell of your perfume. He still gets a whiff of it from time to time when he walks by his closet. Which reminds him –

“I have your sweater,” he says awkwardly.

You glance up at him coldly. “Well, why didn’t you give it to me? It’d probably look better than this.” You tug on the hem of the t-shirt he gave you.

Jake doubts it; the fact that he could see your nipples through the fabric of his own shirt is even more of a turn on than your low-cut bodysuit had been. But he responds with, “Probably. But I’m not about to let you change again.”

You snort. “Fair.”

Jake wonders just how detrimental sitting next to you might be to his personal journey of recovery. He figures that you also would prefer that he stay as far away from you as possible. Ultimately, however, he decides that it’s his bench, after all, and that he’ll be sharing it with you and not the other way around. And, with regard to getting over you, well, he can try again tomorrow.

Jake makes his way over to the bench and you eye him cautiously as he approaches. Silently, you slide to make room for him. He gulps nervously and lowers himself onto the seat beside you.

“What were you doing at the bus stop, anyway?” he asks, staring down at his own clasped hands because he can’t handle looking at you when you’re sitting so close.

“Frank and I were on our way to a party,” you respond sullenly.

Jake glances up at you despite himself. “Thought you two broke up.”

You meet his gaze and promptly look away – apparently, you’re not too keen on engaging in eye contact at this proximity either. “We did,” you say curtly. “About an hour ago.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “An hour ago?”

“We had a fight on the way. I hopped out of the car at a red light.”

Jake leaps out of his seat. “Are you crazy?” he exclaims. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

You give him an amused look. “Don’t you fly jets for a living?”

Jake gapes at you incredulously. “I trained for that,” he retorts.

You let out a small laugh. “You’re right,” you reply. “I should’ve practiced first.”

Jake draws a hand over his mouth. “Okay, so you got out of the car in the middle of traffic,” he says with a wince. “And he, what? Just let you go?”

You shrug. “Wouldn’t you?”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “In what you were wearing? I wouldn’t even let you go to the bathroom by yourself.”

You stare at him with a grin. “That’s a bit excessive.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “How many guys made passes at you before you finally decided that taking the bus home wasn’t the brightest idea?”

You lower your gaze without responding.

“As if that douchebag just left you,” Jake says angrily.

“Well, I wasn’t being very nice.”

“There’s a surprise.”

You eye him dangerously.

“You could’ve gotten hurt,” Jake says. “This isn’t the safest neighbourhood.”

You suck in your cheeks and nod. “Yeah, I was pretty freaked out actually,” you admit. “There was a group of guys following me and they kept making lewd comments. When I got to the bus stop, they sort of surrounded me…”

You trail off and Jake’s hands curls into fists of their own volition. “I could kill your boyfriend.”

“Ex,” you remind him.

“Whatever,” he says. After a moment, he asks, “Are you okay?”

You nod. “I pretended to call someone – you actually,” you say with a laugh. “I had a whole fake conversation with you on my way over. They lost interest in me after a little while and took off.”

He watches you solemnly. “You could’ve actually called me,” he says.

Your face turns skeptical. “Right. And you’d pick up?”

Probably not. “Of course,” he responds. Then he sighs and shakes his head. “Maybe I wouldn’t.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

Jake sighs and sits back down beside you.

Several more groups of trick-or-treaters come and go and you and him take turns answering the door. Occasionally, both of you jump up at the same time and end up oohing and aahing in unison at the various costumes that grace Jake’s doorstep.

This activity does little to help quell the feelings he’s tried for months to repress. He remembers grudgingly the night he told you he was falling for you and you telling him that you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment. That’s when he found out that he wasn’t the only one you’d been seeing.

In your defense, it’s not something you had been actively hiding. In fact, you probably thought that Jake was also sleeping around, given his reputation. But Jake caught feelings like an idiot and was heartbroken when you finally showed your cards.

He spent nearly a year convincing himself that you’re absolute scum. Yet, here you are, looking cute as a button in his joggers and t-shirt, laughing giddily at the neighborhood children like you’re some kind of sweetheart. Like you could fool him now.

Jake slumps back down on the bench, trying to interact with you as little as possible. He can sense that you’re starting to win him over again, and he can’t have that happen. He will not be seduced.

You sit beside him with a grand sigh and lean your head back against the wall. “You get a lot of kids here,” you say lightly.

“Mm-hm,” he hums, bending forward to rest his arms on his legs.

“I’m getting hungry,” you say. “You?”

Jake closes his eyes. The last thing he needs is a fucking dinner date with you. “There are some leftovers in the fridge. You can go heat some up for yourself.”

You lay a hand on his back and Jake goes rigid. “You’re not going to eat?” you ask.

“Not hungry,” he manages to say.

Your hand slides unhurriedly down his spine, your fingers grazing him delicately. Jake brings a fist to his mouth to suppress a moan. “I’ll wait, then,” you say softly. Then, before Jake can gather the strength to remove himself from the situation, you lean your body into his and rest your head on his shoulder.

Jake sits very still, trying to decide how best to navigate this turn of events.

“Do you ever miss me?” you murmur faintly.

Jake turns his head to look down at your face while his heart springs into his throat to constrict his breathing. “What are you doing?” he asks huskily.

Your eyes stare deeply into his. “I’m just wondering,” you whisper.

Jake sighs and rubs his forehead. “You just broke up with Frank.”

Your eyes start to fill with tears. “I miss you.”

“Fuck,” Jake mutters and straightens his back. His head drops like a deadweight against the drywall in behind.

You’re displaced in the process but, once he’s situated, you slowly move closer, until your head is resting over his chest.

Jake grits his teeth but wraps his arm around you and, in response, you lay your arm over his abdomen. He can feel your fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt. He tightens his embrace around your shoulders and curses some more, in silence this time. What is it about you that he just can’t resist?

You lift your head off his chest so you can be face to face with him. Jake tries very hard not to lock eyes with you because that would likely be the end of him. “Jake,” you say in a wispy sort of tone and Jake instantly loses that fight. He meets your gaze, and your eyes entrance him. “I want you to kiss me,” you breathe.

Jake can almost taste the citrus of your perfume; it hangs over you like a veil. He can already hear your melodic moans; he knows what you sound like when he touches you. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest, the ardent urging of your hands as they slip underneath his shirt.

But what he can’t do is kiss you.

Your lips… your lips are all he can think about. He wants you more than anything in the world but you’re not here the same way he’s here; you’re just passing through while he’s here to stay.

You come impossibly close, aching for just a split second of contact. “Don’t you want to?” you whisper.

Jake can hardly stand being this close to you. “Why are you doing this?” he asks in a low, uneven voice.

You gulp and the tip of your nose brushes his. “I want to be with you, Jake,” you whimper, your fingers digging persistently into his ribs. Your travelling hands ignite a chain of pyrotechnics under his skin that sort of set his entire chest ablaze. “Don’t you want that?”

If only you knew how much. He shakes his head, cupping your cheek in his hand. “How can that be? When you’ve only been single for an hour?”

Your eyes start to sparkle. “You don’t believe me?”

He’ll never believe a word you say. But that doesn’t make him want you any less. He catches the tears that stream down your face with his thumb.

“I never got over you, Jake,” you say, clasping your hand over his on your cheek. “I think about you all the time.”

Jake leans his head into yours and grips your hand in his. If you’re telling the truth, he sympathizes. But, more likely than not, every word coming out of your mouth is fiction.

You push him away and sit up straight, wiping at your tears. “I never meant to hurt you,” you say. “I made a mistake. I realized that the moment you left. And I was too proud to go after you.”

Jake grimaces. “So, you dated Frank for ten months?”

You shrug. “On and off. He cheated on me, so…” you trail off with a cynical laugh. “Got what I deserved.”

Jake furrows his brows. “You don’t deserve that.”

You glance up at him with renewed hope. “I don’t deserve you,” you say with a strangled sigh. “I know that. And you know that, obviously. Which is why you won’t kiss me.”

Jake shakes his head.

“I know that it’s long over, Jake. I’m not delusional,” you say, your eyes so penetrating it feels like they’re clawing right into his soul. “And, I swear, I did not come here for this. It’s just, seeing you again – and your fucking disgustingly adorable adult shirt – handing out candy like a well-adjusted member of society – it reminded me what I missed out on.”

Jake lifts his eyebrows. “A lame, costume-less, party-less Halloween?”

You smile. “It’s not lame. It’s perfect.”

Jake watches you wretchedly. You may look innocent sitting before him in his very own baggy joggers and t-shirt with your dizzyingly beautiful eyes. But you are a fucking black widow. With a venomous bite. And sweet lips that spew lies, webs of which he could never untangle. Poison on the tongue. Toxic to the bone. Fatal. “You’re perfect,” he says.

You gaze at him tenderly, waiting for your moment to strike. Jake is waiting too. There’s no use fighting it, he lost the moment he met you. And he’ll lose as many times as it will take to win you for good.

Hangman Tag List:

A/N: The rest of the list will be in the comments. Let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore.

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disturbedbeautywrites · 4 months ago

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Surrender - Jake Seresin Imagine

Warnings: Just a tiny fight between you and Jake. Has a happy ending though for the most part. 💕

The once warm and inviting house that you shared with Jake was now quiet and cold, your sniffles being the only thing that could be heard as you sat down on the floor in your bedroom. Your legs were pulled up under you, your breaths coming out rapidly and uneven. You had been crying for so long now your head was pounding and you could barely breathe.

The fight had been stupid. It had been about him leaving his laundry on the floor right by the hamper, but it had exploded into a whole argument that ended in a screaming match. Jake had gotten tired of the fight and had stormed out and now according to his location he was at the hard deck. You almost felt a level of envy that your boyfriend could go and be with his friends and get a beer when he was overwhelmed. You had moved to live with him from back home in Texas and you were still getting used to living in Miramar. Your friends on base were few and far between and the ones you did have you shared with Jake.

It was isolating, especially during times like this when the two of you weren’t on good terms. You were both stubborn and each refused to apologize first. You sat with your back to the wall, head leaning back against it as you tried to will some air into your lungs. It didn’t happen easily and you could feel your chest aching as it expanded and contracted with the breath.

A shaky hand reached down for your phone as you checked it to see if Jake had reached out, disappointment settling into your bones as you saw the only text that you had was from Bradley. ‘We got him.’ Damn him and his ability to know that you would be worried about your boyfriend. You let out a frustrated huff as you slowly stood to your feet and walked into the living room, deciding to try and put everything out of your mind as you watched a movie. You put your favorite on, curling up on your couch with a blanket over you. You allowed yourself to get comfortable, settling in as you allowed your nervous system to slowly calm down. It wasn’t easy and it resulted in a few more tears rolling down your cheeks as you realized how quiet the house was without Jake. You had been through deployments with him, but this was a different kind of quiet and a different kind of solemn. This was almost worse, though you knew he was at least not in harms way right now. The daggers had him and wouldn’t let him do anything stupid.

The light of the TV started to illuminate the living room, though it did little to make you feel any better. You were exhausted, both mentally and physically. You laid your head back on the couch, wanting to just rest your eyes for a bit. However, you soon ended up falling asleep.

A couple of hours later you were awakened out of your slumber by the front door opening, your body jolting awake as you saw Jake coming in and trying to be quiet. It was now really late in the night and you could just barely make out his frame as he slid his shoes off and closed the front door as quietly as he could. “Babe?” He called out and you didn’t know whether to answer or not so you just stayed quiet. You were still hurt by the fight and weren’t sure if you were ready to face him yet. However, when he spotted you sitting up on the couch, that was all out the window.

You were both illuminated in the dim light of the TV, hearts equally broken and on display for the other to see. You could see the way his face was crinkled with worry as he took in your appearance. He hated to make you upset and you knew that, but you both had been so heated that you had to separate for the time so you could calm down. You were both hard headed and hot tempered and it was a nightmare when you both clashed together. “I’m sorry.” The words left his lips first and you were almost shocked, though you didn’t let it show. “I’m so damn sorry.”

You felt his arms wrapping around you in a hug, his lips pressing into your hair as he pulled you close. You were expecting to be assaulted with the smell of alcohol as he held you, but it never came. He went to the bar and didn’t drink. He must’ve been as torn up as you were all night. The thought broke your heart as you reached up to hug him back, face burying into his chest as the tears started to fill your water line again. They were hot and heavy as they rolled down your cheeks one at a time. “It’s okay, I’m sorry too.” Your words were a quiet murmur in the room, almost feeling like a whisper as he desperately pulled you closer.

Your two bodies fit into each other perfectly, each filling in the gaps that were left as your soft breaths filled the emptiness and the quiet left. “Can we be okay for the night and talk things through tomorrow?” Your voice again felt like a whisper, but the exhaustion was starting to take you over again. You had cried out all you could earlier and the toll was still there, despite the nap you had just taken. You felt worse than when you had actually fallen asleep. “We can talk whenever you’re ready.” Jake’s voice was deep with its own exhaustion, his accent coming through a little thicker as his words slurred slightly. It was something that always made you weak in the knees and now was no exception.

You nodded your head, feeling his arms wrap around your back and down under your knees, picking you up in his strong arms. You leaned against his chest as he carried you to the bed the two of you shared, your eyelids feeling heavy. You listened to his heartbeat and his breathing, letting it soothe you as you tried to push down the feelings of sadness and anger that still lingered in your body. You were okay. Jake was okay. The two of you would work this out. You always did.

He carefully sat you down on the bed, pulling the covers back as you crawled in between the sheets. You looked up at him and he got ready for bed and climbed in beside you, looking at you for permission to hold you. When it was given in the form of a nod he pulled you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you as he pressed his nose and lips into your hair. “I love you,” Again, his accent was thick with sleep and emotion and it made your heart ache. “I love you too, Jake.” Sure, things weren’t perfect right now, but when you both had time to rest and could think more logically, you would be able to talk out the dispute that had happened. After all, you and Jake could make it through anything.

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ohtobeleah · 1 month ago

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Day Five: [Breathe For Me]

Summary: The love of Jake’s life is plagued with chronic migraines after an unfortunate work place accident. But when a migraine feels wrong? Does Jakes initial response cost him his most priceless wife?

Warnings: Reader Death. Mentions of brain Injury. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Overstimulation. Migraines

Word. Count: 1.1k

Whumptober Prompts Day Five: Overstimulation, migraines, “I can’t take this anymore.”

Author Note: Please make sure you read the warnings provided. Disclaimer: I do not condone nor endorse the actions that are written about during the month of October. These works of fiction are just that, fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for this year's prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

When we’re hurt, our bodies send signals to form blood clots directly at the injury, to help stop any bleeding. It’s our body’s system of checks and balances. It’s a system that’s supposed to save our lives. Or so we hope.

“Jake–” It started as a headache, the throbbing pressure in your temples was only a warning of what was to come. Next, the little black dots in your vision appeared. Again, another warning of the storm that was right around the corner. No amount of pharmaceuticals or home remedies could help aid you in expelling the all-consuming migraine that was inevitably pending inside your mind.

The full body aches, the sinus pressure, the sensitivity to light. The nausea, head spins, and intense head pain which made it feel like your brain was about to explode from your ears, made you want to die.

“I can’t take this anymore,” You groaned out in pain as Jake pressed a warm damp washcloth to your forehead as you hugged your knees in the bath. He sat just behind you, offering you only the comfort you wanted when you needed it the most. “Somethings wrong.”

“Dr. Snowdon said this would be a complication from the surgery honey,” Jake cooed as he felt you shift in the water. He watched and shifted as you let your back fall against his chest as you sat between his legs. Warm, soapy water lapped at your stomach as you stretched out your legs. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you.”

There had been an accident at work, one that no one saw coming. That’s the very definition of an accident though, isn’t it? Something you don’t see coming. Something that wasn’t intentional. Something that couldn't have been avoided.

You worked admin in the office department at Miramar, a usually safe office environment that makes your situation all the more accidental. Three people lost their lives, two people were injured. You were one of the two who lived to tell the tale of the office fire from hell. The fire that broke out after the old ass printer blew itself up. The office fire that caused an explosion that sent you flying across the building. The office fire that caused you to crack your skull on the corner of the wall you flew into.

The office fire that nearly took the love of Jake Seresin’s life.

“It’s not your fault Jake–” You nearly sobbed as you tried to focus on his gentle touch, instead of the overbearing, all-consuming pain of your head trying to tear itself apart. “It just sucks this is how my life is now.”

Jake pressed the washcloth a little harder against your forehead, hoping if anything, a little counterpressure would help alongside the warmth of the cloth.

“I know it’s not my fault, honey–” Jake cooed as he worked his magic, helping to soothe your pounding head the best he could. “But it’s so hard seeing you like this.”

Sometimes our body’s signals get messed up. And our failsafe goes haywire. Instead of making clots, our body destroys them. And the thing that’s supposed to help us? Only hurts us more.

Which means we start to bleed. And everything shuts down.

“You’re the love of my life Y/n, I hate seeing you in so much pain.” You didn’t respond, you simply laid there in the warm embrace of your husband’s touch. Your guiding light in life, and in the next.

It stayed like this for a while longer, the comfortable silence filled the bathroom as Jake worked to try and bring you some sort of comfort through your pain. He’d been with you every step of the way, so he wasn’t about to leave you now. But what Jake wasn’t expecting was for you to leave him.

“How are you feeling, honey?” Jake asked softly as he dipped the washcloth back into the warm water. At first when you didn’t respond, Jake assumed that you were just sleeping. He thought perhaps you’d found a moment of solace between the throbbing aches. “Y/n?” But when you didn’t respond when he gently tried to wake you? Jake’s heartbeat began to race with pure, unedited panic. “Hey, baby? Come on now you gotta wake up for me.”

“No, no, no, no, no–don’t you dare do this to me!” the poet Octavio Paz once wrote, ‘The Mexican is familiar with death. Jokes about it. Caresses it. Sleeps with it. Celebrates it.’ Jake Seresin was about to relate to those who had walked alongside death and his many unfortunate souls.

“Y/n, Honey open your eyes!” Jake cried as he dragged your lifeless body from the tub. In Jake’s eyes, death wasn't something to be celebrated. It’s avoided at all costs. You couldn’t die on him like this. You weren’t ever supposed to die before him at all. You promised him that. “Come on baby don’t do this, you’re alright,” Jake pleaded as he tried to bring you back, his compressions were hard enough to break your ribs. “No, no, no–I need you here,” Jake didn’t know it at the moment, but it would haunt him for the rest of his life. You had died in his arms, you had told him something was wrong. It would soon come to light that it had been an aneurysm that took you too soon. A complication from your brain injury.

“Wake up honey, please don’t you dare do this to me,” When death comes, it’s clinical, almost routine. But still with all the practice that doctors and nurses alike have under their scrubs, even surgeons are surprised by death. For Jake, he’d known for many years his career could lead him to an early, untimely grave. But he never expected you to be the first to leave. “I need you,” It was a painful, all-consuming cry that escaped Jake as he realised his efforts were futile. He held you close as he cried and mourned your now soulless state. “Y/n, no–no don’t leave me, please–”

Every religion, every country, every culture, death means something different to all of us. We all have different ideas about how to honour the dead. Different ideas on how to greave. Different ways of moving on. Jake Seresin wasn’t an expert by any means, but now he had the unfortunate experience of losing the person he loved the most.

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

#ailesswhumptober2024 #ailesswhumptober #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin whump #jake seresin angst

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callsign-peach · 2 years ago

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the beanery

summary: jake goes from drinking the base’s stale coffee to bringing in cups from the cafe down the road from the hard deck, and the dagger squad is determined to find out why

pairing: established hangman x female!reader

a/n: the title? has almost nothing to do w the plot, but it’s the name of the coffee shop!!

--- Javy was the first to notice, but it was only because he had gone with Jake to your coffee shop a couple of weeks ago. He had been talking to his best friend about some plans for the newest aviators, and didn’t realize Jake had an end location in mind.

“What’s that?” Bradley asked, eyes honing in on the white take-out cup that Jake was sipping from.

“Hm?” The blonde asked, pocketing his phone and looking at his wingman. “Oh, just some coffee from that new place.”

Javy took a swig of his own Thermos to hide his smirk.

“Oh? The one near the Hard Deck? Penny said the owner’s been in a few times to ask about some tax shit.”

Jake nodded absentmindedly, he already knew this information. “Yeah, they’ve got some good stuff.”

He met Javy’s knowing eye and sent him a look, and Javy was thankful looks couldn’t kill.

Before anyone else could get a word in, Pete entered the room alongside a dozen newly-adorned Top Gun students, raring to go up in the air.

--- You heard the belle chime on the door, calling out to the patron that you’d be a moment.

Slicing the now-empty cardboard box, you slid it between the wall and the trashcan, hoping you’d remember to take it out to the dumpster before trash day.

Walking out into the bar, you smiled when you saw your boyfriend leaning along one of the columns in the seating area. “Hey, J. How was your day?”

“Good, you?” Jake asked, thanking you as you handed him a toasted bagel with strawberry cream cheese. You almost keeled over when you found out your boyfriend’s go-to pastry at the cafe was a plain bagel, losing it when he spread pink cream cheese over it.

“I can’t believe you go for those bagels over my croissants!” You laughed, taking a sip from the iced coffee you made yourself about half an hour ago.

“Oh, what’s that? New syrup? Sauce? Lemme try.” Jake reached over for the clear plastic cup, puckering his lips over the straw. “Oh, babe, I don’t know about that one.”

Laughing, you nodded over to the dainty chalkboard wall with the featured drink. “Raspberry vanilla iced latte. You don’t like raspberries.”

Jake hummed, face falling when his phone chirped from his pocket. “Damn, duty calls.”

Duty referred to drinks at the Hard Deck, a weekly tradition the dagger squad kept up once they were stationed at Miramar for good.

“Don’t know why you don’t just offer to have drinks here sometime. I can make espresso martinis or whatever shit Javy’s trying to make at our place.”

Jake chewed the thought over, pulling his lip between his teeth. “Soon, I just like having my little secret barista girlfriend.”

Scoffing, you playfully slapped your boyfriend’s chest. “Barista? I’m a full-fledged business owner, Seresin! Get it right!”

Jake laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple with a promise to be home before midnight. --- Stopping the timer on her watch, Natasha stepped into the cool air of the newest cafe in MIramar after her morning run, thankful for the air conditioning.

“Good morning! Welcome to The Beanery, can I get anything started for you?”

Looking at the woman behind the counter, Natasha felt like she’d seen the woman somewhere before. “Oh, um, sure. Iced coffee, no creamer.”

“Any flavors?” You asked, scooping ice into the branded cup.

“Caramel?” Natasha smiled, and you laughed and pumped some caramel syrup into her cup.

“Oh, this is so much better than the base coffee!” Natasha smiled, depositing her change into the tips jar.

“Base? You’re in the Navy?” You asked, setting some mugs out on the counter.

Sure am. Naval aviator, originally was only here for a quick mission a couple years ago, but I guess they thought we were good enough to stick around.”

You smiled, setting the drying towel on the counter as the bell chimed for another customer coming in. “My boyfriend’s in the Navy, I’ll have to ask if he knows you.”

“Who knows! Thanks again for the coffee!” Natasha smiled as she left, taking her time walking back to her apartment and changing into her khakis. --- “You, too?! Man, everyone’s getting coffee at the new place!” Mickey spoke as Natasha finished off her iced coffee.

Jake looked up from where he was texting you about the chocolate pastries you were experimenting with selling.

He saw the plastic cup he had helped unpack the weekend prior, curious if his colleague had met you or one of your employees.

“Yeah, it’s really good, and the food looked so good! I might go after work again to grab another drink.”

“Oh, I’m coming with. I need to try this coffee if you and Bagman say it’s good!” Bradley added, tossing a ball of paper at the blond man’s head.

Soon enough, the entire dagger squad was planning a short jaunt over to your coffee shop, Jake included. --- The bell chimed and took you from your thoughts, thankful for the distraction from the pastries you were trying to laminate.

“Welcome to the Bean- oh. Back so soon?” You asked, smiling as you saw Natasha walk back in, flanked by some other Navy men. “And you brought friends? Man, my confidence is sky-high right now.”

Natasha laughed, though she missed the teasing look you gave your boyfriend as he walked in. “Sorry, I just can’t enjoy anything. These rats always have to tag along.”

You snorted, starting on Jake’s drink absentmindedly. “What can I get you guys?”

The aviators all ordered, but when it was Jake’s turn to speak up, you smirked. “What can I get for you, Lieutenant Seresin?”

Jake smiled, wanting nothing more than to swipe the flour off of your cheek. “Iced macchiato, extra caramel.”

“You know what a macchiato is, right? You bitch about me pouring any milk in my coffee, they’re like 90% milk!”

You laughed as Bradley pointed to the cup, exasperated.

“Shut up, Birdbrain.”

Silently setting all the drinks at the end of the bar, you slid Javy one of the oatmeal cookies you made earlier. “Since I was out of them last week.”

“Thanks, but you know I was just going to grab some next time I was at your and Jake’s place.”

Shrugging, you watched as Bob seemed to put the dots together, silently sipping his Americano with a knowing look.

“Okay, this is going to sound really weird, but do you know anyone on base? I swear I’ve seen you before!” Natasha said, curiosity getting the best of her.

You smiled, twinkle in your eyes. “My boyfriend’s an aviator, maybe you’ve seen me around with him? I don’t know, though. I just moved out here recently.”

Javy coughed into his coffee, trying to disguise his laugh.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” Rueben asked, curious.

Smile growing wider, you simply nodded towards Jake. “Jake.”

“What the fuck?” Bradley asked, jaw falling open.

Natasha and the rest of the aviator, sans Bob and Javy, all stared at the two, heads swiveling to look at the couple. “In your locker! There’s a photo of her in there, that’s where I’ve seen you before!”

“You keep a photo of me in your locker? Cute.” You teased, coming out from behind the bar to stand with your boyfriend’s friends.

Jake blushed, offering you a sip of his coffee. “All right, all right, yes, everyone meet my girlfriend.”

You smiled, officially introducing yourself, promising to catch up more with the aviators after you heard the alarm going off for the croissants in the back oven.

“Damn, Hangman, you did good.” Rueben clapped his friend on the back.

“Yeah, I did.” --- a/n: i like this couple idea a lot but i cannot write it i have too many thoughts going through my head so def expect more !!!!!! send requests, chat to me about this trope at literally any time !!!

#jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin angst #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fluff #hangman x reader #hangman fluff #hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman fic #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #top gun x reader #top gun maverick imagine

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rootedinrevisions · 1 month ago

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Unplanned Journeys: Part 1

SUMMARY: You’ve been feeling off—tired, anxious, and full of doubt. When the realization hits that you could be pregnant, your world shifts. As you struggle with the weight of the situation and avoid Jake, the truth becomes impossible to ignore. When you finally tell Jake, the conversation is filled with tension and fear.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it! Also, there will be AT LEAST two more parts to this coming. I haven't decided yet how long I want to make this story quite yet.

WARNINGS: Angst. Unplanned pregnancy.

WORD COUNT: 4.1K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

It started as something small—just a slight sluggishness that you chalked up to long hours and a busy schedule. After all, everyone had days where they felt off, right? You didn’t think much of it at first. Maybe you hadn’t been drinking enough water or were pushing yourself too hard at the gym with the new workout routine you had taken up. But the fatigue lingered, heavier than usual. The exhaustion hit you mid-morning, the kind that left you wanting to crawl back into bed despite a full night’s sleep.

By day three, the headaches came. Sharp and persistent, not debilitating but enough to make focusing at work a struggle. You found yourself squinting at the screen, rubbing at your temples, wondering if your caffeine intake had anything to do with it. Coffee had always been your crutch, but suddenly it wasn’t helping. That in itself seemed odd—coffee usually gave you a little boost, but lately, it just left you feeling more nauseated than energized.

As you sat at your desk, half-listening to a Zoom meeting you were supposed to be engaged in, you absentmindedly reached for your phone. Flipping through your calendar, you skimmed the past couple of weeks, your thumb freezing as a realization crept in. You were late. Not by a lot—but enough to notice.

You glanced at the calendar again, frowning. Surely, it couldn’t be that. Your cycle was sometimes a day or two off. It wasn’t something to worry about. But still… you couldn’t shake the feeling, the quiet voice in the back of your mind that whispered that maybe this wasn’t just an irregular month.

No. You shook your head slightly, trying to clear the thought. You were on birth control. You and Jake had been careful. This was just your mind overreacting, connecting dots that weren’t there. But then a new thought slithered its way into your consciousness. A few weeks ago, you’d been sick—laid out with that stubborn cold. You’d gone to the doctor and gotten antibiotics.

Antibiotics…

Your breath caught in your throat as you suddenly remembered the doctor’s warning. Something about your birth control being less effective. At the time, you’d been too focused on just wanting to feel better, not giving much thought to how the medication could affect anything else.

The nausea from your coffee earlier that morning felt more like a bad omen now.

You leaned back in your chair, your heart thudding a little harder in your chest. No. It couldn’t be that. You were just being paranoid. But now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The headaches. The exhaustion. The nausea from foods that had never made you nauseous before. Your pulse quickened as you stared at the calendar, connecting the dots. Could it really be? The thought hung there, weighty and terrifying. What if you were…?

The panic bubbled up, threatening to spill over, but you pushed it down. You needed answers, not speculation. You couldn’t keep spiraling like this. There was only one way to know for sure.

Without a second thought as soon as you were clocked out at 5:01pm, you grabbed your keys and purse, practically bolting for the door. There was a CVS just a few blocks away. The sooner you took the test, the sooner you could put this fear to rest.

As you hurried toward your car, your thoughts raced alongside you, a thousand different scenarios flashing in your mind. What if it’s positive? What would Jake say? Would he leave?

The short drive back to your apartment felt like miles, the little white CVS bag clutched in your hand felt heavier than it should have been. Each minute only magnified the gnawing uncertainty in your chest.

The moment you stepped through your front door, the cool air of your small apartment hit you, but it did little to calm the heat of your rising anxiety. You shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as if delaying what you knew you had to do would somehow make the looming possibility disappear.

Your heart raced as you walked to the bathroom, the test still tucked in its box as though keeping it sealed would keep the truth hidden a little longer. You set it on the counter, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You looked tired. Your skin was paler than usual, dark circles faintly visible under your eyes. Maybe you were just exhausted. You had been working on a project at work that had a pretty tight deadline. Maybe it was finally catching up to you. Maybe you were imagining all of this. Making up something that wasn't there.

With a shaky breath, you turned away from the mirror, reaching for the box. The sound of the packaging tearing open seemed too loud in the quiet apartment. You took one of the two pregnancy tests out and set it on the counter. Your hands trembled slightly as you read over the instructions, even though you didn’t really need them—you knew how this worked. Open the package. Pee on the stick. Wait. But reading them gave you a few more seconds before facing the truth.

You took a deep breath and finally did what needed to be done. Afterward, you placed the test down, careful not to look at it yet, and set the timer on your phone. You couldn’t bear to watch the lines form, so you forced yourself to sit down on the edge of the bathtub, pressing the heels of your palms into your knees, grounding yourself while you waited. Three minutes felt like an eternity.

Your mind raced, jumping between panicked thoughts and desperate rationalizations. There was no way. You and Jake had been careful, hadn’t you? You’d been taking birth control for years with no issues. And yet… there had been that one night, the night you felt better after being sick. You remembered how he had pulled you close, his warmth intoxicating after those few days of feeling terrible, his touch erasing the last of your discomfort. It had been one of those spontaneous moments, the kind you didn’t overthink. But now, it felt like maybe you should have.

The timer on your phone went off, snapping you out of your thoughts with a jarring sound. You inhaled sharply, your heart thudding hard against your chest as you reached for the test. With your hand trembling, you flipped it over, your breath catching in your throat.

Two pink lines stared back at you.

Your vision blurred as the world seemed to tilt for a moment. No. You blinked hard, clearing your eyes, then looked again.

Two pink lines.

You felt the floor drop out from under you, a heavy weight settling in your stomach. You set the test down, unable to keep looking at it, and hurriedly reached for the second test in the box. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you’d done something wrong. Hands shaking even more now, you repeated the process, this time pacing the bathroom as the second timer ticked down.

But deep down, you already knew.

The timer buzzed again, and with a knot tightening in your throat, you picked up the second test.

Two pink lines stared back at you, a confirmation you weren’t ready for.

You sat back down on the edge of the tub, the reality of it all sinking in, a cold rush of panic sweeping over you. This couldn’t be happening. How could this be happening?

Your thoughts went to Jake. How would he react? Would he freak out? Would he be upset? Would he leave? End things with you? Your chest tightened at the idea of telling him. You’d only been together a few months, and even though things were going well, you couldn’t help but feel that this would be too much, too soon.

You pressed your hands to your face, trying to steady your breathing, but your mind wouldn’t stop racing. Images of Jake flashed through your mind—his charming smile, the way he’d pull you into his arms without a second thought, the lighthearted banter that had drawn you to him. Your relationship was going strong. But was that enough? Were you enough? Would it be enough to survive something as life-changing as this?

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away. Crying wouldn’t help. You needed to think, to figure out what you were going to do next. But your thoughts were a jumbled mess of fear, uncertainty, and—oddly enough—a tiny flicker of something else. Something you didn’t want to admit. Hope.

You shook your head, trying to push the thought aside. This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be feeling this lost, this scared, not when the rest of your life could be so drastically altered by a couple of pink lines.

But there was no denying it now. You were pregnant.

And you had no idea what to do next.

The next morning, the reality of what had happened still weighed heavily on you. It had settled in overnight, creeping into your mind every time you closed your eyes, so sleep was hardly an escape. You lay in bed longer than usual, staring at the ceiling, the events of yesterday playing on a loop. The two pink lines. Your pounding heart. The panic that had taken root in your chest, now a constant, gnawing ache.

But beyond the overwhelming fear of your situation was an even greater question: Jake. How were you going to tell him? Or… should you even tell him yet?

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, startling you out of your thoughts. You didn’t have to check to know who it was. Jake had sent a text earlier in the morning—a simple “Good morning” with a smiley face—and you had left it unanswered.

Now, a second message appeared, more direct this time:

Jake: You okay? Haven’t heard from you.

You swallowed hard, staring at the screen. You didn’t know what to say to him, didn’t know how to talk to him without the weight of your secret making everything feel wrong. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard as your mind scrambled for something—anything—normal to respond with.

You: Yeah, sorry. Been busy.

You stared at the message for a moment, guilt settling in your chest as you hit send. You hated how distant the response felt, hated how you couldn’t bring yourself to say more. But what could you say?

The seconds stretched on before your phone buzzed again.

Jake: Busy? You trying to avoid me?? ;)

The words on the screen were playful, a light jab that might’ve made you smile any other day. But today, it only made you feel worse. He was catching on. Jake always had a knack for reading people, and now he was reading you, seeing right through your weak attempts to act normal.

You set your phone aside, deciding not to answer for now. You’d figure out what to tell him later. But for now, you just needed space. Space to think. Space to process. Space to make sense of the storm that had taken over your mind.

The day dragged on, and you kept your distance. Every time your phone buzzed with a message from him, your anxiety spiked, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to respond beyond brief, one-word replies. You were trapped in this bubble of avoidance, knowing full well that it wasn’t sustainable but unable to break free of it just yet.

Later that evening the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over The Hard Deck as you stepped inside. The familiar sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, but they felt distant, almost muffled, as you made your way to the bar.

Jake was already there, leaning against the counter, chatting with a few of the guys. His laughter rang out, and your heart sank a little. How could you keep this secret from him when he looked so carefree?

“Hey, you made it!” Jake grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement as he reached out to pull you closer. You forced a smile in return, feeling the weight of your secret settle heavily on your chest.

You settled onto a barstool beside him, ordering a Diet Coke, the bubbly drink a stark contrast to the cold beer he and the others were enjoying. As Penny placed your drink in front of you, Jake’s gaze narrowed slightly.

“Diet Coke?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not feeling under the weather? I thought you’d be grabbing a beer with me.”

“Just not in the mood for one tonight,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

“Come on, it’s Thursday night! You can’t tell me you don’t want to kick back with a cold one.” He leaned in closer, a playful grin on his face. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me.”

You chuckled lightly, but it felt forced. “I just have a lot on my mind with that project deadline tomorrow I told you about.”

“Just thinking about work, huh?” he asked, his voice low, laced with concern.

You nodded, a little too quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tremor in your hand as you raised the glass to your lips.

Later that night after beating Rooster and Bob in games of pool Jake made his way back over to where you were still sitting on the bar stool.

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. You sure you’re okay?” He said as he put his hand on your back and began gently rubbing it.

“I’m fine,” you replied, a little too rehearsed, the words falling from your lips like an empty promise. “Just a lot on my mind with that deadline tomorrow.”

“Right.” He nodded, though the frown on his face told you he wasn’t entirely convinced. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer, but instead of the warmth you usually felt, you tensed.

You could feel him studying you, as if he were searching for something just beneath the surface. His touch, usually comforting, felt heavy now. “You’re not really laughing tonight,” he pointed out, the concern in his tone deepening. “I mean, that joke from Phoenix was hilarious, and you didn’t even crack a smile.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Jake tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “You sure that’s all? Because it feels like something else is going on.”

You swallowed hard, the truth lingering just beneath your tongue. He deserved to know, but the thought of revealing your pregnancy sent waves of panic coursing through you. Instead, you looked down at your drink, tracing your finger over the rim of the glass. “Really, Jake. I’m just... thinking about everything.”

“Okay, but you know I’m here for you, right?” His voice softened, and you could see the worry etched across his features. “If you need to talk, just say the word. I can take you home. We can go back to my place. Whatever you want.”

You nodded again, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I know. I appreciate it.”

The night wore on, and the laughter and camaraderie around you seemed to grow louder while you felt more isolated in your thoughts. As Jake tried to draw you back into the fold, the distance between you only seemed to widen. Each time he reached out, you instinctively pulled away, hiding the truth that threatened to spill from your lips.

You were trapped in a delicate dance, and with each passing moment, the weight of your secret pressed heavier against your chest. You took a deep breath, knowing that soon, you’d have to face him. But for now, all you could do was keep the facade intact, holding on to the last threads of normalcy before the storm would break.

When Jake asked you to meet him at The Hard Deck the following evening, your heart sank. He was trying, reaching out to spend time with you like always, but the idea of seeing him, pretending that everything was normal, felt impossible. Your chest tightened as you typed out your reply.

You: Can’t tonight. Sorry.

You could almost imagine the confusion on his face as he read your message. Normally, you would’ve jumped at the chance to meet up with him, to sit at the bar with him, sharing drinks and flirty comments. But not tonight. Not now.

You spent the evening in your apartment, pacing, thinking. The truth was suffocating you, and the longer you put off telling him, the worse it became. But fear gripped you every time you thought about saying the words out loud. What if this changed everything? What if Jake didn’t want this? What if he… walked away?

The knot in your stomach twisted tighter at the thought. You tried to shake it off, tried to reassure yourself that you were overthinking things, but the fear wouldn’t let go.

You didn’t know Jake’s thoughts on kids, on the future, on anything beyond the easy, carefree nature of your fairly new relationship. And now, this could upend everything.

When your phone buzzed again later that night, you ignored it. You couldn’t deal with it. Couldn't deal with him. Not yet.

But avoiding Jake was harder than you expected.

The next evening, as you sat curled up on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, you heard a knock on your door. Your heart skipped a beat. For a moment, you froze, staring blankly at the door. Who would be at your door right now?

Another knock. Louder this time.

Your pulse quickened as you pushed yourself up from the couch and made your way toward the door. You peered through the peephole, and your stomach dropped.

It was Jake.

You hesitated, every muscle in your body suddenly tense. He had come to see you. Maybe he was worried. Or maybe he was just tired of your evasiveness. You couldn’t tell. All you knew was that he was here, standing on the other side of your door, and you had to face him.

With a shaky breath, you unlocked the door and slowly opened it. There he was, standing in the hallway, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets, his usual easygoing smile playing on his lips. But there was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite read.

“Hey,” he said, looking up to meet your eyes.

He leaned in slightly as if to kiss you. Instinctively, you took a small step back, the distance between you immediately noticeable.

Jake’s smile faltered.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with concern. He tilted his head, studying your face. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. Didn’t even want to meet me at the Hard Deck tonight. That’s not like you.”

You swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ve just… been busy,” you muttered, knowing how weak it sounded.

“Busy. Right. Well, your deadline at work was up at 4:59, so what's your excuse now?” Jake repeated, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Are you avoiding me? Is something wrong?”

Your chest tightened as he pushed, his words cutting through your thin layer of avoidance. He wasn’t letting this go. And you didn’t know how to handle it.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, avoiding eye contact. “It’s nothing.”

Jake stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. “You sure about that?” His voice was firmer now, the playful edge gone. “Because this isn’t you. You've barely texted me all week. Then you acted like you were trying to avoid me like the plague last night at the bar. You blew me off tonight, and now… what? You’re acting like you don’t even want me here?” He paused and just looked at you, shaking his head. "Do you want me here? Do you want me to leave?"

The guilt hit you like a tidal wave, and you could feel your emotions starting to bubble to the surface. You tried to swallow it down, to push the panic aside, but it was too much. The pressure was too much.

“Jake, I—” You stopped, biting your lip as your vision blurred with tears you hadn’t realized were forming. “I just… I don’t know how to—”

He took a step forward, his voice softening again. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. It's just...you're scaring me, babe. You're making me think you're trying to hide something. Just talk to me. Whatever it is, we can figure it out. But don’t shut me out like this. ”

You blinked, fighting back the tears. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to tell him. But fear kept your throat tight, the words trapped inside.

He reached for your hand, his touch gentle, and grounding, but even that felt too much right now.

You pulled away, stepping back toward the living room.

“I… I don’t know if I can do this right now,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jake frowned, confused. “What do you mean? Can’t do what?”

You knew you couldn’t avoid the truth much longer.

“Jake, I’m pregnant.” you blurted out, your voice breaking. The words spilled out before you could stop them.

The room went completely still. For a moment, Jake didn’t react, his expression frozen in surprise as if he hadn’t quite processed what you had just said.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your ears. “I… I took a test a few days ago. It was positive.” The words felt heavy, hanging in the air between you, and you could barely look at him. “I didn’t know how to tell you… I didn’t even know how to deal with it myself.”

The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, as Jake stood there, his gaze locked on you. You could see the shock in his eyes, the way his mind seemed to be working through what you had just revealed. Your stomach twisted in knots, the fear bubbling up again. You had no idea how he was going to react. No idea what this meant for the two of you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jake exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he stepped back, processing. His face was unreadable, and the silence between you became unbearable.

“I… I didn’t see that coming,” he said finally, his voice low and rough around the edges.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look at him. “Neither did I,” you whispered, your throat tight. “I’ve been freaking out, Jake. I didn’t know how to handle this. I didn’t know if I should tell you, or if you even—”

He held up a hand, stopping you mid-sentence. “Wait… did you think I wouldn’t want to know? Were you thinking about not telling me?”

His tone wasn’t angry, but it was laced with disbelief, and you realized what you had implied. Your heart clenched as you met his gaze, seeing the hurt in his eyes.

“I didn’t know what to think,” you admitted, your voice shaking as tears started to form in your eyes. “I was scared, Jake. I still am. I don’t know what this means for us, or for anything.”

Jake took a deep breath, his eyes softening as he stepped toward you. His hand reached out, gently taking yours, his touch warm and steady. “Baby, I get that this is… huge. It’s not something either of us expected. But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words sent a wave of relief washing over you, but the fear was still there, lingering at the edges. You had been so caught up in your panic that you hadn’t allowed yourself to hope for this—that Jake wouldn’t run, that he wouldn’t leave you to handle this alone.

“Are you sure?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Because I don’t even know if I’m ready for this.”

Jake squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know what the future holds, and yeah, this is scary as hell. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

The weight of his words hit you like a tidal wave, and for the first time in days, you felt a sliver of hope break through the fear. You weren’t alone in this. Jake wasn’t going to leave.

The tears that had welled up in your eyes finally broke free and started to roll down your cheeks as you looked at him, the emotion finally overwhelming you.

“I was so scared,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I didn’t know if you’d want this. If you’d want me.”

Jake’s expression softened even further, and without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt as the reality of everything finally hit you. But this time, it didn’t feel as crushing. With Jake’s arms around you, it felt just a little bit lighter.

“This isn't your fault, baby. We both made this baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured into your hair, his voice steady. “We’re in this together.”

You stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in his embrace, the fear still there but no longer as suffocating. With Jake by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next.

For the first time since seeing those two pink lines, you allowed yourself to believe that everything might just be okay.

#Top Gun Hangman #Top Gun Hangman Fanfiction #Top Gun Hangman Fanfic #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Jake Seresin Fanfic #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader #Hangman Angst #Jake Seresin Angst

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ereardon · 4 months ago

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Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Sixteen

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child?

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Ducky has a scare and both Jake and Bob rush to the hospital

WC: 1.6K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

You were at work the first time you felt it.

A zap. A buzz, deep in your abdomen. It lasted for a second, a prolonged sting, before evaporating. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and willed it to leave. That was something you hadn’t been prepared for about pregnancy. Not that you had prepared much, or at all, to start. But the accompanying anxiety that riddled every moment. Every flutter, every cramp or aversion or heat sensitivity drove you into a Googling rampage.

If you were this bad now, what would happen when the baby was born?

It happened again as you were taking your lunchtime walk near the water. A sting that echoed deep within the recesses of your expanding abdomen. You stopped, one hand on your stomach, eyes wide.

“Are you alright, dear?” An older woman stopped, concern lacing her features.

You nodded. “Yes, thanks. All fine.”

She watched you cautiously before nodding and slipping back into the crowds. You stopped toward a bench and placed one hand on the back, steadying yourself.

When the pain came again, and this time you knew it would, you grimaced, digging out your phone.

Jake’s cell. It went to voicemail and your heart rate started to spike. Next you dialed Bob, and the same fate.

Panic started to set in.

Eyes bleary, you pressed Phoenix’s contact in your phone. It rang until an automated voice said the mailbox was full.

Finally, Bradley. He picked up at the last ring, breathless. “Y/N? Are you alright?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered, heart racing. “I was walking and I'm in pain and I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh Jesus.” There was a pause. Then, “Call an Uber, I’ll meet you at the hospital. That’ll be faster than me picking you up.”

“Where’s Jake?” you demanded. “And Bobby.”

“Test flight,” he replied. “Phoenix is with them. They’ll be gone for another few hours.”

“I’m scared,” you admitted.

“I know,” Bradley said. “So am I. I’m getting in my truck now, OK? I’ll meet you there, don’t worry.”

***

True to his word, Bradley was there by the time they were placing your IV.

“What happened?” he demanded.

The nurse looked up. “This your boyfriend?”

You shook your head furiously. “No.”

She shrugged. “Too bad.”

You rolled your eyes as she left the room. “That’s how they all are, you know,” you said as she eyed Bradley on her way out. “The second y’all step into a room wearing those outfits, girls go wild.” You flicked your hand at his green flight suit.

Bradley stepped toward the bed. “As much as I’d love to hear how hot you think I am, so I can use it to taunt Seresin later, I need to know what happened.”

“They don’t know yet,” you replied. “My blood pressure is a little high I guess? They’re running some labs.”

He ran his hand through his hair and you reached out, pressing your fingertips to his other arm. “Hey. It’s OK. I’m really glad you’re here.”

“I don’t know how you do this,” he whispered. “That’s not even my baby and I’m panicked.”

“You’ll be a great father one day.” His brown eyes lit up. “Speaking of fathers, where’s the one responsible for this?”

“Let me call the station again,” Bradley replied. “I’ll be right back.”

“Hurry.”

***

“Where is she?” Jake skidded to a stop in the waiting room as Bradley paced in a tight circle.

“Thank fuck,” he muttered.

“Bradshaw. Where is she?”

“Room 219.”

Jake practically sprinted down the hallway. Your neck snapped to the right as you heard the door bash open, Jake standing with his hair mussed from his helmet, still wearing his flight suit and a pair of standard issue boots. “What happened?” he demanded, stepping closer as his green eyes flicked over the screens on the monitors behind you.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Relax.”

“Relax?” Jake looked like his brains were going to burst out of his skull. “You’re joking, right? How the hell am I supposed to relax when I land and find out you’re in the damn hospital?”

“I thought military boys were good under pressure.”

“There’s a difference,” Jake gritted out, “between gunning down enemy fire, and hearing that the mother of your child is in pain.”

You grabbed his hand. “I’m fine,” you whispered. “Doctors said it was probably just Braxton Hicks contractions, nothing to worry about. They’re doing some blood and stress tests to make sure.”

Jake dropped his head against your hand and you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his forehead. He looked up, surprised, mouth open just as the door swung on its hinge again, Bobby practically sprinting into the room. “What happened?”

You rolled your eyes. “You boys are really needy aren’t you?”

His ice blue eyes zeroed in on yours. “That’s my niece in there,” he said. “I want to know that she’s OK.”

“I’m fine, too,” you pouted.

Bob leaned over, wrapping you into a hug. “Thank God.”

As he leaned back, you shook your head. “Look at the two of you. Absolute messes.” Bob and Jake looked at each other, and you laughed. “Doctors said I should be able to go home in an hour. So Jake, why don’t you go tell Bradshaw he’s OK to leave. And thank him for me?”

“Alright honey.”

You winced as the nickname floated in the empty recesses of the room. Bob lifted an eyebrow as Jake disappeared through the door. “Honey?”

You were silent.

Bob leaned against the hospital bed. “I repeat, honey?”

“Leave it alone, Bobby.”

“You’re my sister, I deserve to know what’s going on.”

“You don’t have to be dad,” you whispered. Bob looked up, angry, but you continued. “I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. I don’t need you watching out for me and policing everything I do.” He started to speak but you cut him off with one hand raised. “I love you. And I love you for taking care of me and looking out for me. But when I say I need you to trust me, I need you to ease up a little.”

Bob sighed. “Sometimes, I don’t know who I am if I’m not looking out for you.”

You smiled and grabbed his hand. “I think you owe it to yourself to have a little fun. Be a little wild.”

He grinned. “Wild? No way.”

“Go out, have fun, be reckless.” You patted your stomach. “Have a beer for me. Or five.”

He shook his head and stood up. “Do you want me to drive you home or Jake?”

“Jake.”

Bob walked to the door and pulled it open. “I feel like a dad dropping his kid off at kindergarten for the first time, watching you walk away.”

“You know when I get married someday, you’re going to have to be the one to give you away.”

“Don’t know if I can do that, Ducky.”

You frowned. “What?”

Bob sighed. “I can’t give you away, Ducky. You never needed me that much. You never needed anyone. You were always enough, by yourself.”

***

Jake wouldn’t let you out of his sight for even a minute from the moment the two of you stepped through the door.

Finally, after you had settled into a pair of pajamas and eaten takeout, you turned to Jake. “You stink, by the way.”

He furrowed his brows. “Excuse me?”

“Go shower, please, I’m begging you.”

He hesitated and you groaned. “What?”

“You’re going to make me stand there, aren’t you?” you asked. “Like some overprotective new mother who puts her baby in a car seat and brings them into the bathroom while she takes a whore’s bath.”

“Whore’s bath?”

“You know. When you wash your private parts in the sink instead of taking a full shower.”

Jake laughed. “I don’t know what’s funnier. The idea of you doing that, or the fact that you said private parts.”

You shoved his arm playfully. “Shut up.”

“Fine. I’ll shower. But you better not move until I’m back.”

“Oh, what a threat,” you replied, snuggling deeper into the couch and flicking on the latest episode of Love Island.

Jake emerged five minutes later, pulling a white t-shirt down over his still damp abs. Your eyes boggled for a moment before you could help yourself. “I saw that.”

“I hate you.”

“Stop being so mean to me, it’ll make me fall in love with you.”

“You’re damaged goods, Seresin.”

“You’re one to talk, Ducky.”

“Ouch,” you giggled. “Is this foreplay?”

Jake crawled onto the couch, crouching over you, one of his hands next to your head, the other brushing back the hair on your cheek. “Do you want it to be?”

“Yes,” you breathed and Jake grinned. “But the doctor said I needed to wait at least forty-eight hours to make sure my blood pressure went down before I did any vigorous activity. And I have a feeling vigorous would be the right word choice.”

Jake pulled back, a smirk across his handsome face. “Alright, let’s make a deal. I’ll plan a date for us on Friday. You pull out the sexiest dress you have and we’ll go out on the town.”

You groaned. “Sexy dress? Are you kidding? I'm a whale.”

“I’ll leave my card on the table. Buy a new dress.”

“Jake, I can’t.”

“It’s not a request, sweetheart,” he replied. “I like red on you.”

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@blue-aconite @withahappyrefrain @wkndwlff @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @gigisimsonmars @xomrsalliej4787xo @myfaveficrecs @mycobrakai1972 @sio-ina-bottle @joaquinwhorres @justanothermagicalsara @je-suis-prest-rachel @shanimallina87

@rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me @kmc1989 @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @bbyvanessaa @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @boiolay @sometimesanalice @na-ta-sh-aa @bobfloydsbabe @kmc1989 @rosiahills22 @palepeanutponyshoe @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @mel119g @daggerspare-standingby @grxcisxhy-wp @mrsjobarnes @csmt-m @rockbottompunk-blog @joaquinwhorres @xoxabs88xox @spinning-away @bobfloydsbabe

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seresinhangmanjake · 11 months ago

Text

The One I Want: Part 8

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: traumatic past, trust issues, cursing, very likely typos

Words: 1951

The One I Want Masterlist

You don't remember how you got to the couch. You don’t remember whose idea it was, or who guided who, or who first fell onto the cushions and pulled the other with them. Jake’s lips have kept you from retaining that information, not that it is of much importance, anyway. It doesn’t change that you are where you are, your legs draped over Jake’s thighs, your fingers woven through the ends of his hair, with his hand latched onto your hip. Your lips have barely had a moment apart since you relieved his concern with your smile and he went back in for a second kiss. Bodies have requested a few decent breaths here and there, but nothing keeps you separated for long.

His kiss is demanding, but not controlling. It’s a kiss unwanting to break, but willing to do so if that is what you need. And his touch follows a similar pattern. Jake is not shy when his hand ventures past your hip, but he’s still cautious. The warmth of his palm sliding over your ass and pulling you closer is gently done, and when he travels up to your flannel sleep shirt and fingers dip under the fabric, he stops just after two knuckles are hidden past the hem. Fingertips grazing your skin are enough to cause shivers of pleasure, but they are still careful not to cross a line.

You’re not actually sure if a line is there for him to cross, yet somehow you both know the possibility exists that it is hiding in plain sight. It might be that his touch an inch or two closer to your breast could ignite a panic response. His fingers playing with the buttons that hold your shirt closed or the tie that keeps your shorts around your hips could have you jumping out of his hold. And with such unpredictability, you appreciate that Jake doesn’t take that risk because you don’t want to stop this. You want to stay as you are, connected as much as you can safely be connected.

Jake has stolen minutes, maybe hours, from your morning—although, you suppose it can’t be considered stealing if you’re freely giving them to him and intentionally surrendering to the way he's making you feel. Any grasp on time disappeared long ago, but you couldn’t possibly be more content. In Jake’s arms, you have chosen to loosen your connection to the space around you and he has led you to a place where nothing else, especially not your past, matters.

And you like it here, in this place. Every available reality suspends. Here, you are not damaged. You are not imperfect. A man like Jake wants you. You believe you’ll never have to leave this town because no one is going to say anything to you that will make it unbearable. Here, there’s the suggestion of a future. Here, you can feel your feet start to plant into the ground.

—

“You’re beautiful, you know,” he says.

You stopped kissing some time ago and he’s taken to staring at you, scanning your features, touching your kiss-swollen lips with a proud smile on his face that says “This was my doing”.

“I’ve thought so since I came through the front door and saw you standing right about…” he shifts on the couch to get the entrance of the apartment in clear view. With eyes squinting as if to find an exact measurement, his finger points to the spot where you stood the night you first met him. “Right about there.”

Your eyes briefly follow his finger. “I thought you were disappointed.”

“Oh no,” Jake chuckles with a light shake of his head. He looks down, almost as if embarrassed, and watches his hand run back and forth over your bare knee. “No, that certainly wasn’t the case. And Nat teased me for it immediately,” he says.

Your brows shoot up. “Teased you?”

“Yeah,” is a long-drawn word. His lips curve into a smile and his eyes find yours again. “She knew I was gonna be a goner.”

When you try to conceal your blush by looking down at your fiddling hands, Jake’s grin widens. “Don’t hide,” he says, leaning over to tilt your chin back up with his thumb and index finger. “I like it.”

“You like what?”

From your cheekbone to your jaw, his knuckle draws a soft line over the pink shade of your cheek. “This.”

You would feel more self-conscious about the blush spreading to your ears and chest if not for the light rosy tint making its way onto his cheeks at the same moment. It’s a lovely shade that blends so well with his complexion and instantly confirms that what you saw at the bonfire was not a trick of the flame's glow. Your abdomen clenches with the sensation of velvety wings fluttering throughout your stomach, but the feeling disperses when a pang of something else hits deep in your chest.

Jake is already so comfortable with his kissing and touching of you. Though he is thoughtful, he doesn’t hesitate or question what he’s doing. He holds on to you like he’s done it a thousand times before. Your bodies mold to this couch as if the position you are sitting in was imprinted into the cushions long ago. He somehow knows what you like; he knows how to kiss you like a man who has been studying you for years. It all comes so naturally—to you and him—that it teeters on the cusp of unreal, and is, therefore, slightly unsettling.

Typically, you’re careful; more calculated in your interactions with people. You aim to avoid putting yourself in positions where you lose your sense of control, and yet, for Jake you let it all go. With Jake, you’re allowing the revival of parts of yourself that were slowly fading from lack of use, but it forces you to wonder if you’re capable of maintaining that freedom without him there to help you. You don’t want to clam up if he’s out of reach. You owe it to Jake to try to apply everything he’s given you so you can do right by him. If you hurt him from an inability to let yourself remain open, you expect you won’t find of self-forgiveness.

You don’t realize you’re staring off into space, your eyes on an out-of-focus plant in the corner of the room, until Jake’s hand cups your face and his thumb begins to stroke your cheekbone. When you look up at him, the smile that at some point fell from his face returns and he leans into you. His fingers slide into your hair to guide your head closer to his.

“Jake, this isn’t trouble, is it?” you whisper before his lips can meet yours.

He pauses. Then with his brow scrunched in confusion, he pulls back. “What do you mean?”

“This.”

A palm returns to your cheek and that thumb restarts its back-and-forth motion. “You and me?” he asks, but his head shakes before you can answer. “No, we are not trouble.”

Your chuckle lacks full commitment. A twinge of doubt in your capabilities weaseled itself into your thoughts, and though Jake is rather effective at shaking it, you can feel remnants lingering in a place he might not be able to reach. “You’re so sure,” you mutter.

“Yes,” he says in the limited space between you. “I’m sure.”

“How?”

When Jake sighs and shifts to rest his back against the couch, you know it is not from exasperation. If you could so easily irritate him, he would have given up on anything to do with you after twenty-four hours of you living in his space. Instead, it’s a sigh of contemplation. By the look on his face, your question is one he already has an answer to for himself. His extended thought is for your sake; an extra minute taken to piece together the most encouraging explanation that will help you understand why he’s so confident.

Your hand is encased in his and he squeezes. His stare matches yours. Intense. Unwavering. “Because,” he starts, “I more than thought you were beautiful when I first saw you. I wanted you, and I have wanted you every day since—you and me, just like this, right here. But I wasn’t going to do anything unless you felt like you could trust me,” he says. “And you said you do now, right? You trust me?”

You nod. Then he nods.

“We’ve lived together for months, and I’ve been deep in it, beautiful. Nothing you can do or say will make me think anything other than what I think of you now. So you’re not trouble for me,” he says, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. “And I swear I won’t be trouble for you. If you trust me, trust that.”

Your eyes sting and your nose fills with familiar pressure. There’s something in the ease with which Jake soothes your worries that is sickeningly overwhelming. Your method of relieving pain is, as it has always been, to flee, and after spending so many years doing so, you refused to entertain any other option. But this is Jake, and Jake is different. He doesn’t do the fleeing thing. He does the “I want what I want so I will figure out how to get it” thing. And what he has wanted is your trust, which he obtained by becoming exactly what you didn’t know you needed.

Not wanting to fall into a mess in front of him for the second time in one day, you move your legs off of Jake’s thighs despite his noise of protest and scoot your body next to his to regain some of that control.

“What are you–” he begins with a hint of worry in his voice, but you instantly silence him with the soft “hush” that leaves your lips as you throw your leg over his hips and find your balance atop his lap. Jake’s hands settle on your waist. They snake around your back and he tugs you to his chest. The awe that swirls in his eyes as he gazes up at you fills you with confidence, and you tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear before gripping his shoulders.

“I’m going to kiss you,” you say. Jake blinks, gulps, and nods, both of you knowing that each kiss between you prior to this moment was initiated by him. “I’m going to kiss you, and after that, we’re going to stop focusing on me. We’re going to stop talking about me.”

“I like talking about you,” he says. One hand slowly runs down your clothed spine, over your ass, and along your outer thigh, then makes its way back up. “Can’t we do both?”

“No.” As you lessen the distance between your lips, Jake’s neck stretches up to connect the kiss, but you maintain just enough space to keep him from succeeding. “I tell you something, you tell me something, remember?”

With his eyes glued to your mouth, Jake nods again.

Good, you think, because step one in your determination to remain open to him is being for him who he is for you—someone to trust. “It’s your turn to tell me why you don’t like to be alone.”

The heat of a hand finds the back of your neck. Fingers weave into your hair. “I’ll tell you anything you want.”

“What I want is to know you, too.”

Jake’s inhale expels as a soft sigh. His eyes pierce yours. “It’s heavy stuff, beautiful.”

“I can handle it,” you say. Then you lean in close so your lips can ghost over his. “Trust me.”

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @eloquentdreamer @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin x plus size!reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic

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sarahsmi13s · 11 months ago

Text

Rocks Are Allowed to Crack, Stars Are Allowed to Dim

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x fem!pilot!reader

characters: jake seresin, y/n nivans, the daggers, pete mitchell, penny benjamin, diego and benny harding (oc father and son)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, language, ptsd, description of accident, panic attack, injuries, descriptions of scars, flashbacks, fear of death, familial death (mentioned), crying, bottling up feelings, please please let me know if i missed any

word count: ~8.0k

a/n: this has been sitting in my docs and on my wheel for at least a year (please forgive the awkward moments). so i figured i'd take a sliver of the wheel and make him a little lighter! i've also been in a funk lately, so i thought getting something out there might help!

quick summary: everyone deserves someone to comfort them in their time of need, even the ones that always lend their shoulder

Ah, yes, dogfight football. Maverick’s way of creating a team. You play offense and defense at the same time. Tackling each other into the sand, sometimes into the water. It may be chaotic, but it’s fun and a great team building exercise.

Which is why you hated that you were running a little behind.

You sighed as you got out of your car and walked over to where Penny was sitting at the table.

You placed your aviators on your head, “I’m not late am I?” Penny chuckled and shook her head, “Just in time. Want a beer before you go?” You shook your head, “Nah, I’m okay right now. Care to watch my stuff?”

The brunette gestured to the items in front of her, chuckling, “I’m watchin’ everyone else's. I don’t see why not.” You chuckled and sat your wallet, phone, and keys down, as well as your sunglasses. You slipped off your shorts, folding them and laying them down.

“Nivans!”

You turned at the call of your last name, brows raised in curiosity.

It was Maverick.

“Hurry up and get down here!”

You turned to Penny, “This is gonna be fun.” You both laughed before you jogged across the sand to meet everyone by the water.

“Sorry I’m late, Mav.”

Maverick shook his head, “You’re not late, Rockstar. Can’t be late for fun.”

“Not gonna take your t-shirt off?” Phoenix asked when you stood beside her. You shook your head, “Nah, I’m good.”

Hangman sighed, “That’s a shame.”

You chuckled at him and bent down to throw a handful of sand at him.

“Watch it, Rockstar,” Hangman said, his voice light as he glared at you playfully.

“Or what, Hangman?” You challenged, eyes narrowed but a smile pulled at your lips.

Now, you and Hangman joked like this all the time. You considered each other best friends, which confused everyone else on base.

Jake Seresin was an asshole. He was cocky and arrogant. You, Y/N Nivans, were not an asshole. Quite the opposite, actually.

You were humble while still knowing your worth, but also showing anybody up if they proposed a challenge, and not being sour when you lost.

Jake went out looking for competition, you let it come to you.

You were also probably the sweetest thing to walk the planet. Most certainly the sweetest to walk the airstrip.

You were nice to everyone, always giving someone the benefit of the doubt until they truly proved they were an asshole.

You also took care of your team, they were your family. You always had the door open if someone needed to talk. Your arms were wide open when they showed up in the middle of the night because they had a nightmare and couldn’t shake it. You were their rock.

So, when you walked into the Hard Deck that first day of the Uranium Mission and hugged Hangman, everyone was confused — except Coyote who knew you from a year prior. But they didn’t verbally question you, choosing instead to ponder in private.

Hangman sighed, “Come on, Rocky. You're giving your enemy the advantage.” He tugged at your shirt and pulled you into his arms.

You laughed and pushed him away by his chest, “You’re gonna have to catch me first.” Hangman cocked his head to the side, “Oooh, that’s how it is?” You nodded, a smirk playing on your lips, “That’s how it is.”

You panted as you used your shirt to wipe the sweat from your face.

When you let go of your shirt you raised your arms, calling for the ball. They threw it to you and you took off for your endzone.

You felt the sand shift and you knew Hangman was behind you. You had to get rid of the ball, so you called out to your teammate, “Phoenix!” She ran ahead of you and you threw her the ball.

As soon as the ball was out of your hand, Hangman tackled you to the ground.

You laughed as you laid on your stomach, arms out in front of you.

“What was that about ‘catching you’?” Jake grunted from above you.

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. “Haha, very funny Hangman. Now get off, you’re heavy.”

“First, ouch. Second, nah, you’re comfy.” You laughed and shook your head, attempting to push off the ground and basically buck him off.

But, Hangman wouldn’t let you, laughing as he moved and made you fall back down.

In this new position, Hangman was putting pressure on a certain part of your back and panic shot through you.

“Seriously, dude, get up,” you tried to say with a laugh, not wanting to sound rude or like you were mad at him. He just smiled and rested his chin on his hands.

You closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing, but the waves hitting you pushed you over the edge.

“Jake, get the fuck off me.” You didn’t mean to sound harsh but you were panicking.

Jake was surprised by your tone, along with the use of his first name. He immediately got up and held out a hand for you to take but you just got up and ran to the table.

“Rockstar, where you going?” Maverick asked. You called out while still running, “I need a break for a minute.”

You got to the table, “Is it unlocked?” Penny nodded, “Yeah, why?” “Bathroom break.” Penny just nodded again and watched you take your sunglasses with you as you jogged inside.

Rooster ran over and hit Jake’s arm, “What did you do, Hangman?” Jake shook his head, “I’m not sure.” He put his hands on his hips and watched you disappear into the bar.

He felt bad, he wanted to chase after you and apologize but he didn’t know what he did.

“Well, you seemed to piss her off,” Phoenix said, shoving the ball into his chest.

Maverick looked at Penny but she just shrugged, meaning you didn’t say much.

You ran into the bathroom, throwing yourself into a stall.

You leaned over the toilet and waited to throw up. Tears had started running down your face the minute you stepped in the bar. You coughed and sobbed lightly as you tried to control your breathing.

After a few minutes of that, the nausea subsided and you slowly stood to go to the sink.

You turned the cold water on and splashed your face.

“Shit…”

You closed your eyes as the tight feeling in your chest loosened. You let out a shaky breath and looked in the mirror, cringing at the puffiness around your eyes. You grabbed your sunglasses and slipped them on before leaving the bathroom.

When you stepped outside you saw Maverick and Penny talking, and when you sat down they stopped talking and looked at you concerned.

“You alright? Gave Hangman quite the scare for a second,” Mav asked, squaring his shoulders to you. You nodded, resting your forearms on the table. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You rubbed your forehead, “Hey Pen-”

Before you could finish your sentence, a beer was sat in front of you, causing you to giggle, “Read my mind.”

As he continued to play, Jake still couldn’t get over the fact that you called him ‘Jake’ during a day out.

It wasn’t that you never did, but it was rare that you called anyone by their first name.

But it wasn’t just that, it was the way you said that really made him worry. He had never heard your voice sound like that before.

He looked at you from his spot on the beach, noticing you didn’t come back to join in the fun.

Hangman walked up to Phoenix, worried that he had really upset you and wanted help from the girl you were closest to. “You don’t really think I pissed her off, do you?”

She sighed, “I don’t know, Hangman. Even if you did, I doubt she could stay mad at you for long. She can't be mad at anyone for very long.”

Jake nodded and watched you stand up from your spot at the table.

You finished your beer and stood up, “I’m gonna head out.”

Maverick frowned, “You sure you’re okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just really need to shower. I’ve got sand in places sand shouldn’t be,” you said with a light laugh.

“Okay, drive safe. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.” You collected your stuff and headed to your car.

Jake noticed you leaving and tilted his head, “Hey…” He patted Coyote on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

He jogged up to the table to ask Maverick if he knew anything.

“Is she okay?” Hangman asked as soon as he came to a stop. Maverick shrugged, not looking up at the pilot, “She seemed okay. Said she needed to shower.”

Jake let out a breath, “So she isn’t mad at me?”

“I didn’t say that. But as far as I can tell, she’s just tired.”

Jake licked the sweat off his upper lip, putting his hands on his hips as he looked down.

“Hangman, honey, just go talk to her. If she’s upset with you, she’ll be honest about it,” Penny encouraged, giving Jake a small smile. He nodded and jogged to go find you before you left.

You were standing by your car, the door opened as you moved to get in when he approached.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jake called as he walked over to you. You smiled, “Hey, Hangman.”

Jake swallowed, “Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I was just messing around. I did-”

You held your hand up, cutting him off, “Jake, I’m not mad at you. I know you were just playing. But your tackle jump started my bladder and I wasn’t kidding when I said you were heavy.” You giggled a bit to show him you were teasing.

Hangman visibly relaxed at the sound, “Okay, good. I know I like to get under everyone’s skin. Sometimes I don’t know when to knock it off. I–”

You held up your hand, cutting him off. “Jake, I can handle your teasing. Yeah, you can get a little mean. But I know it’s all a big show. Come here,” you opened your arms and made grabby hands at Jake.

He just shook his head and chuckled, pulling you in by your outstretched hands and letting them find their place around his built torso.

He rubbed his hand on your back, nearly missing the slight tensing right beneath your shoulder blades before they relaxed. His brow furrowed but he didn’t mention it, thinking that maybe it was you tightening your arms around him.

He kissed the top of your head before you pulled away.

“Geez, Jake, you’re sweaty.”

“You’re not too dry yourself, Rockstar.” You laughed and playfully shoved him away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” You smiled and slid into your car, “I’ll kick your ass tomorrow Hangman.”

He scoffed leaning on the roof of your car and the open door. “Since when did you get so cocky?”

You smirked and placed your glasses on your head, forgetting that your eyes could still be red and puffy from earlier. “It’s not cocky if it’s the truth.”

Jake shook his head and looked back to the shore. “Uh-huh. We’ll see.” He leaned back and patted the top of your car. “Drive safe.” You nodded, and he closed your door.

He watched you start it up before driving away.

Jake shook his head and made his way back to the group.

Speaking of the group, they had all noticed the change in Jake when you showed up at the Hard Deck a few months ago.

While he was still his cocky self, having no shame in bragging and trash talking, he seemed to tone it down when you were around.

They also noticed how he always made sure to find you in the crowd, keeping an eye on you. Coyote joked that you had Hangman wrapped around your finger, that he would be at your side with a simple look.

Jake was painfully aware of the effect you had on him.

When he met you a year ago, he was starstruck by your dazzling smile.

So, naturally, in true Hangman fashion, he flirted with you.

With a toothpick between his perfect white teeth and his bright green eyes shining under the yellow lights of the bar, he walked up to you.

“I sure hope no one left you alone.”

When you turned, eyeing him up and down to take in the uniform, beer bottle popping as it left your mouth, his breath was ripped from his lungs.

“Well, you’re here now. I’m not alone.”

Seeing your smile up close caused Hangman to blush, and leaving him thankful that his tan could somewhat hide it.

“Well, ain’t I special.”

You nodded, giggling while looking down at the bar, “That you are. But, before this can go any further, I’m gonna be honest, I’m more dedicated to my work than anything else at the moment. And I have to be up by 5, so I’d hate to lead you on.”

Jake shook his head, but you continued, gesturing around the bar, “I’m sure there are plenty of girls here that would love to get attention from you and give you attention.”

Jake smiled –not smirked, smiled– while leaning on the bar, “Well, the only one I want attention from is you. Plus, I can’t stay out too late either. Gotta be at work early too, so I guess we’re both clocking in early.”

None of the feelings that day had been one sided. You also had been starstruck by Hangman.

He was broad shoulder, tall, tan, and had a voice that could make a girl swoon in a second. But you knew he was a pilot, his uniform gave it away, and you knew how they acted. Except, you liked Jake’s company and decided to talk all night with him.

Ironically, what you both did for work never came up.

So, imagine the look on Jake’s face when he saw you the next day in your flight suit.

“You didn’t tell me you were a pilot.��

You smirked, “You didn’t ask.”

He shook his head, biting his lower lip to hide his smile but failed.

You nodded to him, “What do they call you?”

“Hangman. What about you?” You smiled, “Rockstar.”

You were able to peg why he earned his callsign very early on but he couldn’t seem to figure yours out.

Until he had a close call and couldn’t shake it.

The last day of training had just ended, tomorrow you might not come home, and to say you were nervous was a major understatement.

As you changed to get ready to go out with the squad, you couldn’t stop shaking. You knew you needed a drink… okay a couple drinks.

While you changed, Hangman was walking around, looking for you.

When he walked past the locker room, he caught a glimpse of you reaching to pick something up.

He turned to walk in, but stopped when he saw that you only had your pants on. But, before he could stop himself, his eyes trailed up your back; starting from above your waistline on your pants and going up.

Then he stopped, his eyes widening when he saw the large scar that looked fairly new – maybe a year or so old. It spanned from the middle of your left shoulder blade to nearly below your ribcage and was positioned diagonally across your back.

Jake quickly looked away, realizing that you must have not wanted anyone to see it if you hadn’t told him.

His brow furrowed as questions ran through his mind. Was that why you freaked out during dogfight football, the other day? Why you always tense up when you get an unexpected touch there?

Shit… He thought, feeling like a horrible friend for never noticing and never asking.

Jake took a deep breath and walked away, choosing to approach the locker room differently and pretend he never saw you.

He put on a smile and walked back towards the locker room, “Hey, Rockstar! You almost ready?” He stopped just short of the door, leaning his back against the wall.

Your head jerked up as you pulled your t-shirt down. “Uh, yeah, Hangman. I’ll be ready in a second.”

You finished getting ready and walked out, jumping slightly when he pushed off the wall.

“Geez Hang, don’t do that!” You punched his arm.

“Gosh, I forgot how hard you punch.” He chuckled and rubbed the spot on his arm as you both walked to the parking lot.

You all sat in the Hard Deck, drinking and playing pool.

“Dude, she’s kicking your ass!” Payback laughed as he clapped Hangman on the shoulder.

You were, in fact, kicking Jake’s ass in pool. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the blond narrowed his eyes at Payback.

“Yeah, you feelin’ okay? You’ve been off your game tonight Bagman,” Rooster commented, smirking as he drank his alcohol.

Instead of clapping back at the jab, Jake just rolled his eyes and lined up his shot.

That made you frown, Hangman always had a comeback. Always had sarcastic quips to embarrass the other person. But he was silent.

You made eye contact when he stood, silently asking if he was okay. He just nodded and moved to sink another pool ball.

You didn’t want to drop it, but you did for the sake of having fun before facing the chance of death tomorrow.

Sometime later, after a few rounds of pool and drinks, you all stood around and just talked.

“Hey, did you guys hear about that one pilot that saved her WSO’s life when they got shot down?” Bob asked, looking around the group.

You clenched your jaw slightly, but not enough for anyone to notice.

“Bob, that happens all the time. It’s kinda what we do,” Phoenix said, squeezing his shoulder.

Rooster stood up and sat his beer down. “No, not the way this pilot did. Bob, I know who you’re talking about. I read the mission file, the only thing that was classified was the pilot and WSO’s names.”

You swirled the beer in your glass, not looking up from the amber liquid. “Did the pilot survive?”

When you finished asking, you looked up, trying to ignore the watchful eyes of Hangman as you met Rooster’s eyes.

The latter nodded, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, she did. But she had a pretty serious injury. I’m not sure if she was ever clear to fly again.”

You nodded and looked back down at your glass.

“And the WSO?” Jake asked, eyeing you as you downed the rest of your drink before looking at Rooster and Bob.

“He survived. But I don’t know if he still flies,” Bob answered.

“Well, that’s good that they both survived,” you said, your smile returning to your face.

Rooster shook his head a bit, “Yeah, but that pilot pulled a risky move. Saving some like that…”

Your smile dropped a bit, “People have their reasons.” You raised your glass, “I’m gonna go get another drink.”

Hangman watched you leave as the conversation changed into something more light hearted.

Jake took a step to go after you but Coyote caught his arm. “Hey, come on. Play me in a round of pool. Let’s see if you still got your game.” Jake looked from his friend back to you and saw you laughing with Penny and Maverick at the bar. That allowed him to relax a little bit.

“Oh, I still got my game. Let’s see if you found yours,” he smirked. “There he is!” Coyote laughed and clapped Jake on the back.

As Jake played pool with Coyote, you talked with Penny and Maverick.

“Are you serious?”

You nodded, laughing at Penny’s reaction to you telling her how you and Jake met.

“Pen, why are you surprised? Hangman flirts with every girl,” Maverick said, using his hand to point the direction of the mentioned pilot. You and Penny both nodded your agreement.

“Sounds familiar,” Penny says, a playful grin on her face making Maverick roll his eyes.

You had become so invested in your conversation with Penny and Mav, that you missed Rooster coming up behind you.

He placed his hand on your back, right on your scar, making you tense and jump in surprise.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya’ Rocky,” he took his hand off and leaned on the bar.

“You doin’ okay? You seemed a bit…” He glanced back at the group, thinking of the right word. “...tense a minute ago.”

You bit the inside of your lip, had you really been that obvious?

Still, you nodded and gave him your best smile.

But to him, he could see that it didn’t reach your eyes. He may not have been your best friend, but he had seen plenty of your genuine smiles and this one did not make your eyes shine like the others.

Bradley decided not to press, “Okay…” He turned to Penny, “Penny, could we get another round?” The bartender nodded, “Of course, but you’re reaching your cut off.”

Penny had set a cut off for drinks for the pilots not wanting them to go into this mission hungover. You chuckled and glanced back at the group, all of them messing around and having fun. “Yes ma’am.”

You turned to Rooster and then back down to your empty glass. Penny hadn’t refilled it yet, having started a conversation with you as soon as you came over.

You glanced at your watch, seeing that you had been there for a couple hours.

Penny sat a tray down, placing the full glasses on top. “There you are, Rooster. Who’s tab?”

Rooster opened his mouth to tell her to put it on his, but you beat him to it, “Put it on mine Pen.”

“You got the last round, Rockstar,” Rooster argued. You shrugged, “I don’t mind. Plus, I’m closing my tab for tonight.”

“What? You’re heading out already?” You nodded, sliding Penny your card, “I’m hitting my limit, Roos.”

Bradley searched your eyes for a moment, looking for any indication that something was wrong.

You were usually the one that made sure everyone was okay to go home and if they needed rides; so leaving early rung bells in Rooster’s head.

Penny gave you your card and receipt, “Thank you.” “Thanks Pen,” you gave her a smile before turning back to Rooster.

“Tell ‘em I’m heading out. I know if I do it I won’t be able to leave.” You gave him a one armed hug and turned to Maverick, “See you in the morning, Captain.”

“See you in the morning, Rockstar.”

Penny gently squeezed your hand, giving you a small smile as you slid off the bar stool and walked out.

Rooster, Maverick, and Penny watched you leave the building before turning to each other, concern written all over their faces.

“Is she okay? She’s been acting a little off ever since dogfight football the other day,” Penny asked the two pilots.

They both shrugged, Bradley looking up at her. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“I’ve noticed, but I thought it was just because Harvard and Yale had to eject the other day,” Mav admitted. “We were all a little shaken up by that…”

It was silent for a minute.

“You know… if one person knows anything, it’d probably be Seresin,” Penny said, pointing over to the pilot, who was very invested in the game he was winning, and basically suggesting that they talk to him.

Bradley sighed, knowing that Penny was right and if anyone knew you the best, it would be him. He grabbed the tray, thanking Penny and walking over to the group.

They all cheered when he sat the tray down, taking a glass for themselves.

Jake noticed that there was an extra and he frowned in confusion before he realized it was for you.

He looked up, eyes searching for you in the crowd, panicking a little when he couldn’t see you, “Where’s Rockstar?”

Rooster sighed, “She closed her tab and left. Said she reached her limit.”

Fanboy frowned a little bit, “Why didn’t she just tell us herself?”

Rooster shrugged, “Said if she did it would take longer for her to leave.”

“Does she seem different to you guys?” Coyote asked, finally voicing his concern that had buit up over the last few days.

The group shared a look before making small noises of agreement.

“I mean, she’s still the same Y/N. Still lighting up a room and being there for us like she always has been… I just… I don’t know.”

Rooster looked at Jake, “Hangman, you’re like her best friend, do you know anything?”

Jake shrugged and shook his head, “All I know is she’s nervous for tomorrow and the accident the other day shook her up a bit, but she hasn’t said anything else.”

He took a large gulp from his beer, hoping to swallow the confession of seeing your scar that he wanted to bring to light. You trusted Jake and he wasn’t about to ruin that by telling the squad what he saw when he wasn’t even supposed to know it was there.

Meanwhile, you walked the beach, taking in the fresh and salty air. You just needed the quiet time before you went home.

You sighed and pulled out your phone, seeing a text from Hangman and laughing slightly at the message.

Hangboy: Hey, I get that I kicked your ass those last few rounds of pool, but you could have told me you were leaving. I would have walked you out. Text me when you get home.

Also, there was an extra beer. I assume it was meant for you, but you left so I drank it. Don’t worry though, I can handle it.

You shook your head and opened your phone, but not to text Jake.

You went to your contacts and pressed the caller ID, putting the phone to your ear as it rang.

“Hey, Rockstar, what's up? It’s been awhile.”

You smiled, sighing, “Sure has been, Tundra. How are you? How’s the little one?” “I’m good. Ben is great, he wants to know when you’ll be by again to visit.”

You giggled at the fact the 6 year old wanted to see you. “Soon… hopefully.” “Y/N, I know that voice. Is it happening again?” You shook your head, despite the fact that Tundra couldn’t see you.

“No, no. Well, sorta, but this is different Diego.” You heard him shift, presumably crossing his arms. “What do you mean?”

You sighed, remembering that you couldn’t share all that much about the mission, even if he was former Navy.

“I don’t know how much I can tell you. But I got called back to TopGun, and I could be flying out on a mission tomorrow. A dangerous one.”

“Y/N, do they know?”

You shook your head again, this time to fight tears. “No, but I’m scared that mid air, I’m gonna freeze. I don’t wanna freeze, Diego. I haven’t frozen since our incident. But I don’t know what’s been wrong these past couple of weeks. I can’t seem to shake off this dread… this-this fear. I do-don’t-”

He cut you off, “Have you talked to anyone recently?”

You were silent and he took that as a no. “Y/N, you have to talk about it if you ever want to move past it.” “I did though. I had mandated therapy for my entire time in recovery.” “And have you been since you recovered?”

You threw a hand up, frustrated, “I thought I was past it! I hadn’t had an attack in a year, not until we were playing football. I-I thought it was just a one time thing, and then something happened during training and I just-”

You were cut off by a small, tired voice.

“Is that Aunt Y/N?”

“It is. Do you want to talk to her? I think she needs to talk to you.” “Yes, please!” You smiled as you heard the phone go to speaker and then be passed to the little boy.

“Hey, Aunt Y/N!”

You smiled, tears finally falling, “Benarino, hey buddy.” “I miss you. When are you coming to visit?” You wiped at your eyes with a shaking hand. “Soon, buddy. Really soon,” you sniffled.

“Aunt Y/N, why are you crying?”

You laughed, coughing a little at the end, “I just really miss you Benny. I can’t wait to see you.”

You looked back at the Hard Deck, seeing your fellow pilots laugh and sing.

“I’m gonna bring a friend too. If that’s okay with your mom and dad?” “That’s alright with me, Rockstar. I’m sure Lila won’t mind.”

“Who is it?”

You brought playfulness into your voice, “You remember the pilot I told you about? The one that thought he could fly better than your Aunt Rocky?”

The little boy giggled, “Yeah!” “Well, I think it’s about time you brought home the boy that stole your heart.”

“Diego,” you hissed. “We are just friends.” “Mhmm, sure.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “You should probably get Ben to bed before Lila wakes up.”

You heard Diego grunt as he picked up his son, “Goodnight Benny Boy.” “G’night Aunt Y/N.”

“Call me when you make it back.” You nodded, hand sliding into your back pocket, “Yeah, of course. Night Tundra.” “Night Rockstar.”

The call ended and you slid your phone into your unoccupied back pocket.

You took in a deep breath, trying to relax again. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In, out.

On an inhale, the scent of smoke filled your nostrils and it made you hold your breath.

Quickly looking around, you spotted a bonfire a couple yards away. Realizing it was harmless, you let out the breath and tried to relax your shoulders.

But, despite knowing it was completely harmless, your body went into a state of panic. Your chest tightened, limbs went numb, pain spread through your back, and tears filled your eyes.

You held a hand to your chest, the air stopping just before it made it to your lungs, and stumbled to your car as fast as you could, hoping you weren’t seen by your friends inside the bar.

Jake looked at his phone as he left the bar. You hadn’t texted him, and by now you definitely should have been back to your on base bungalow.

Hangman wasn’t going to panic, he knew you well enough that you would have texted or called him if something bad happened. Of course he felt anxious, who wouldn’t, but he was going to remain calm.

The reason you hadn’t texted him when you got home was because the moment you fumbled yourself into your place, you booked it for the bathroom.

Your knees smacked into the tile and you threw up whatever alcohol you had consumed before the strangled sob ripped itself from your throat. You crumbled to the tile as your chest refused to let air in.

Your skin felt hot and sticky, sweat coating it as you laid on your bathroom floor. It wasn’t helping you, your damp, hot skin sending you back to one of the worst days of your life.

So, in a frenzy, you ripped off your shirt and kicked off your shoes and socks before yanking your pants off, not even loosening your belt.

You crawled over the tub wall, too dizzy to properly stand, before fumbling with the knob to turn the water on.

Once you got it turned on, you jostled the faucet switch, a desperate sob escaping as it kept falling down before it finally stuck, turning the shower on and drenching you in water.

And that was how Jake found you.

Jake decided to stop by your place and check on you, that being his only option to get his anxiety to go away.

When he pulled up to your place and saw your car there, he let out a breath of relief.

He parked his truck behind your car and ran to your door, his chest lighter than before.

But his chest became heavy again when he made it to your door only to find it unlocked. You rarely left your door unlocked, if ever.

He cautiously pushed it open, looking around to see if anything was out of place.

Your keys were on the floor, your phone and wallet not too far from them.

Jake walked further in, making sure to close and lock the door behind him.

He held his breath as he looked for you. But his search was cut short when he heard the shower running.

He exhaled and had to take a minute to calm the drumming in his chest.

He cautiously walked to the bathroom, making sure to knock before walking in. He kept his head down so he didn’t see anything he wasn’t supposed to… again.

“Hey I was-”

The door stopped, hitting something on the floor.

Hangman squinted his eyes in confusion. It was your shoe. He kicked it out of the way and pushed the door open enough for him to just step in and close it.

He stopped with his hand on the door, realizing that the room didn’t feel like a sauna. There was no fog covering the mirrors and steam wasn’t filling the small space. You always showered hot, and right now the bathroom was freezing.

Jake finally looked up and saw you curled in the shower, the water cascading from the faucet and hitting your back. It was obvious you had been there for a while because you were shivering.

Jake sat on the edge of the tub cautiously, not wanting to startle you.

His heart broke at the sound of your quiet crying and the puffy redness of your eyes was a sight Jake never wanted to see again.

The eyes that usually held the brightness of the stars and a kindness that was unmatched, were now red, distant, and constantly filled with tears that fell over and mixed with the water drenching you.

He hated it.

Jake held his hand under the water and recoiled at how cold it was.

“Shit,” he cursed as he quickly turned it off.

When you didn’t react, he knew you truly weren’t in this reality.

“Y/N,” he spoke gently and touched your arm. He sharply inhaled when he discovered how cold you were. “Y/N, darlin’, we need to dry you off and get you in some warm clothes. You’ll get sick.”

Jake wasn’t sure if you heard him because you just stared ahead, biting on your nail. He sighed and pulled your hand away from your mouth.

He moved to pull his hand back but you grabbed it, your freezing cold hand latching onto his warm one. “Please don’t… Jake, please don’t leave.”

Your voice was quiet and broken, raw with fear. And he was sure that sent a shiver up his back.

Jake quickly shifted to kneel beside the tub, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your hand. “I’d never leave you hangin’.”

He looked you over, “Can I pick you up?” You nodded, letting his hand slip from your grip and feel it wrap under your legs.

He awkwardly shifted to lean over and pick you up, grunting a little as stood up. He was too pressed about his clothes getting wet, he’s sure he’s got pants somewhere around here.

Jake managed to open the bathroom door and walked to your bedroom.

He sat you on the bed and quickly grabbed the towel on the back of your desk chair.

Wrapping it around you, Jake kissed the top of your head. “You’re okay. You’re safe,” he spoke gently against your hair.

He pulled back and watched you bite your lip to keep your tears hidden.

You avoided his eyes, looking at your shaking hands.

“I’m gonna get you some clothes, okay?” You slowly nodded, lip trembling before you bit down on it again.

Your eyes didn’t follow him as he walked around your room, but your ears were very aware of Jake’s noises; everything from his footsteps to his mumbling.

In under five minutes, neatly folded clothes were placed beside you and Jake kneeled in front of you, his large hands resting on your biceps gently.

“Do you want me to stay while you change?”

It took you a second to register what he had asked, but he was patient and rubbed reassuring circles on your arms with his thumbs.

You inhaled, the familiar scent of his cologne calming you down a bit.

You were tempted to say yes, you didn’t want to be alone but you also didn’t want Jake to see you any more vulnerable than he already has.

You shook your head, unconsciously pulling the towel tighter around you.

Jake noticed it and nodded, “Okay, I’ll go tidy up your bathroom and throw some blankets in the dryer to fluff them up and get ‘em warm.” He gave you a small smile and stood, leaving the room and the door open just a crack.

You managed to peel off the wet bra and underwear, drying off before changing.

That simple task was exhausting. It felt like your bones had turned to rocks and your muscles no longer existed. But eventually, you did it.

You haphazardly dried your hair, basically just dry enough to where it wasn’t dripping, and walked into the small living room.

You sat on the couch, deciding to occupy your hands with your oversized shirt while you waited for Jake.

Minutes later he was on the couch beside you, wrapping you in the fresh-out-of-the-dryer blanket.

“Thank you…” Your voice had a rawness to it that made Jake shiver, something was really wrong and he didn’t know how to help.

He nodded and rubbed your upper back, “Of course.”

He sat there for a moment, just listening to your sniffles and weeping exhales, before finally turning to face you.

“What’s going on? ‘Cause this-” He gestured to you and your current state. “-is way more than just nerves for tomorrow.”

“I’ll be-”

“If you say ‘fine’, I swear,” he sighed to control his volume. “Y/N, you are not fine.”

“Jake…”

The blond pilot took a deep breath, looking at the sliver of couch cushion between you. “I saw it…”

If you weren’t going to be honest, then he needed to be. Maybe what he saw is connected to what was shaking you to your core all of a sudden.

He finally looked up at you and watched your breathing halt as fear filled your eyes.

Jake continued, making sure to keep his tone even, “I didn’t mean to. I was just looking for you in the locker room today and I-” He stopped talking when you choked out a small cry.

He immediately pulled you into his lap, one hand going to the back of your head and the other arm wrapped around your lower back. “I got you… I got you.”

Jake closed his eyes and rocked you a little as his mind went back to the day these roles were reversed.

Jake had sat in the locker room, flight suit half off and tied around his waist. His knee bouncing as his eyes went in and out of focus.

“Hangman!” You called as you ran down the hall. But he couldn’t hear you with the blood still rushing in his ears.

“Hangman! Hang- There you are!” You jogged to him and saw that his emerald eyes were blank, not the playful or confident eyes you normally saw. “Hey, Hang- Jake what’s wrong?” You knelt in front of him, putting a hand on his bouncing knee to stop it.

Jake looked at you, the concern swimming in your eyes breaking whatever resolve he had left.

The tears he tried so hard to hold in finally spilled down his cheeks.

You instantly cupped his face in your hands, wiping them away, “What’s got you so shaken up? I’ve never seen you like this.”

He shook his head, pushing your hands away as he sat up and leaned against the locker. “You’re not supposed to.”

You sighed and leaned back on your heels, “What happened up there?”

Jake wiped the still flowing tears, shaking his head, “I don’t know. I guess- Fuck I don’t know, Rockstar.”

You stood, “Talk to me, Jake. Please, I’m your friend and I want to help.”

Your tone was desperate and worried. This was a new version of Jake that you would have never seen if you hadn’t followed him off the tarmac.

Hangman finally got the guts to grab your hand and squeeze it. He took a deep breath as he tried to collect himself.

“I almost lost you up there. You’re one of my closest friends, we’ve only known each other for a few months and I feel like we’ve known each other forever. I never let myself be that close to anyone, but you made it so easy.”

His voice was raw and shaky. He was scared, but you couldn’t blame him. What just happened to you both was really intense and it was scary. But you were both okay.

You squeezed his hand back, giving him a soft but encouraging smile.

“Can we just- Shit this is gonna sound so weird…”

You knew where he was going, so you straddled his legs and wrapped him in a hug. “I got you Jake, I got you.”

That was when Jake realized the backstory to your call sign. You were everyone’s rock. You kept everyone sane, even at the expense of yourself.

Which is why you were currently shaking and sobbing in his arms. You never sought out comfort for your problems, a bad habit you picked up in high school. You always put everyone first, and you had it in your head that you couldn’t be vulnerable.

You pulled away from him, not meeting his eyes, “I’m sorry…”

“Why the fuck are you apologizing?”

“Because I-”

“Because you’re being vulnerable in front of someone?” You nodded, unconsciously playing with your fingers. “Look at me, please.” You did, biting your lip to hold your tears in.

“You are allowed to be vulnerable. You are allowed to cry. You are allowed to be scared. You shouldn’t have to hide your feelings from your friends. I’m sorry if we ever made you feel like you couldn’t talk to us.”

You nodded, staying silent, focusing on how Jake had moved his hand from the back of your head to your cheek to rub his thumb back and forth on your cheekbone.

Your silence broke his heart a little bit, making him think you didn’t trust him. But he knew he had to be patient with you.

He goes to move his hand away but you hold it there. “I thought I was over it…”

“Over what, Sweetheart?”

“The accident…”

Jake pushed some hair behind your ear, “What accident?”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as a few tears rolled down your cheeks. He wiped them away as he spoke softly, “Take your time…” You nodded, swallowing as you tried to catch your bearings.

“A year before I was stationed with you, I was flying a mission. It was dangerous, but still fairly routine. On my way out, I got hit. It completely destroyed my weapons system. Before I could get back up, I was hit again. This time it took out my engine.” You took another deep breath, looking up at the ceiling.

“We were dropping altitude fast and my WSO and I had to eject. We landed on a beach, we unbuckled so fast,” you chuckled, remembering the relief you and Diego felt before the shit hit the fan.

Jake smiled a little bit at the sound, but dropped it when you started talking again.

“However the jet had also crashed onto the beach too. The fuel had leaked and caused an explosion. I covered my WSO, and a piece of scrap metal lodged itself into my back.”

Jake’s eyes widened, more dots connecting in his mind, “You’re the pilot the squad was talking about at the bar…”

You nodded, wiping your eyes, “Jake, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s just… when I was in recovery, if I wanted to fly again, I had to go through therapy. And I haven’t had an attack in a year…” You got choked up again, hot tears rolling down your face, “Hang, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, using both of his hands to wipe your face, “Hey, don’t be sorry. Do I wish you would have told me sooner? Hell yeah, but I understand why you didn’t.” You just nodded and relaxed into his hands.

“What happens when you have an attack?”

You took a sharp inhale through your nose before sighing it out, “It depends. I sometimes get flashbacks of the beach, everytime I close my eyes I just see fire and it’s fucking terrifying. Other times, when it gets really bad, I can feel pain in my back, but that’s rare.”

You bit your lip a little as you looked away, and Jake knew, “That happened tonight didn’t it?” You nodded, coughing a little bit, “Yeah, uh, yeah it did.”

“Was it because we talked about-”

“No," you said quickly. "W-well, I mean kinda… yeah. But there was a bonfire happening on the beach, and just the two things… my brain went into panic mode. Before you ask, I don’t really know what triggers it. But during dogfight football-”

Jake’s eyes widened and he dropped his hands, “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“Exactly, Jake, you had no idea. It’s not your fault. It was just the pressure on my scar made me panic, and I was back on that damned beach. But I’m not mad or upset with you because you had no idea. So don’t beat yourself up, please.”

Jake nodded, bringing you into a hug again, being mindful of the scar. “Jake, you can touch it. I know I’m safe.” He said nothing and brought a hand to run over the covered scar before tightening his hug.

“Can you tell me about him? Your WSO?”

You nodded, “Diego Harding, call sign Tundra. He has a wife and a son.”

“That’s why you-”

“Yeah, that’s why I covered him. He had a family to go back to.”

“What about you?”

You sighed again, using Jake’s shoulders to sit up, “Most of my family served. My dad was killed in action when I was young. My mom died when I was a teenager, leaving Piers to raise me for a little bit. Then Piers goes and sacrifices himself… so I didn’t have anyone to come home too.”

You shrugged and got off his lap, but snuggled into his side.

He rubbed lazy circles on your bicep. “Well now you do.” You looked up at him confused, “What?”

“You’ve got me to come home to, and I’ve got you.” He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Don’t get sappy on me, Seresin.” He just chuckled.

It was silent for a moment.

“Promise me that you’ll do your best to fly back to me,” he asked in a hushed whisper as if he were telling you a secret.

“Only if you do,” you whispered back.

He held out his pinky, “I promise.” You nodded, interlocking your pinky with his, “I promise too.”

“Can’t break that now, you know,” he chuckled, squeezing your pinky a little. You giggled a little before yawning, “I know, cowboy.”

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mickandmusings · 4 months ago

Text

v. we were happy

part of the 'hangman & honey' series!

summary: Honey's life lately was much like walking on air-everything was light, breezy, full of happiness and excitement. She relishes in it, enjoying her time in Haven before graduation. But if there's one thing Honey knows, it's this: when good things happen to her, the bad things will come tenfold.

word count: 7.4k (oops)

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI (just to be safe); smut highly implied, but no graphic descriptions besides heavy kissing (i'm not skilled enough for that); descriptions of a panic attack; angst; honey finally getting the important feminine friendships she deserves; notable military inaccuracies

"If you give me the slightest hint of withdrawal and abandonment, I would outdo you." -

"Jake is going to flip his lid when he sees you, Hon!"

Haley's voice rings in Honey's left ear, the girl delicately twisting Honey's hair into a simple up-do. Sarah Grace nods in agreement, giggling as she brushes a neutral eyeshadow across Honey's eyelids. Honey smiles and gives her own soft chuckle, feeling incredibly out of place-but simultaneously comfortable-with the new experience of getting all dolled up. Of course she'd gotten herself ready for dances with Jake before, but having girlfriends do your hair and makeup was entirely different, as Honey was learning. Haley and Sarah Grace had doted and debated about looks all morning, until they both agreed and settled on a unified look to match Honey's simple black dress.

"The dress alone is going to make him want to take you right there in his backseat," Sarah Grace commented, her laughter bouncing off the walls of the bathroom in the Seresin's spare house.

"Oh, gross, SG! Give Honey more credit than that, her boy has tact, which is apparently something Ethan lacks if he's taking you in his backseat." Haley shakes her head, the sequins of her hot pink dress rustling as she moves around Honey's stool to get the back of her head. Her own blonde locks are pulled into an intricate style atop her head, the shiny hairpins glimmering in the bathroom's ample lighting.

"I think you're both overconfident in your ability to take me from homely to supermodel."

Honey's voice is quiet, but the girls hear her clearly. They're both chatterboxes, but Honey had learned quickly that they were always listening, no matter how timidly she spoke. Both of the girls cut their eyes at her with appalled expressions.

"Homely? What makes you think you're ugly, Honey? You're easily one of the prettiest girls in our class. Guys are just shallow, well, except for your boy," Sarah Grace's face breaks into a smile. Honey blushes, not sure how to accept a compliment like that. She stays quiet as the girls finish their work, but her friends can only stand the silence for so long.

"So, Honey," Haley begins as she pins back a section of Honey's hair. "How excited are you for UT? I mean you only have a few weeks until graduation, and then summer, but then it's all over and you're packing your life away to Austin."

"I'm not packing my life away, Hals, I'm still coming back for the holidays and the long weekends. It's not like I'm never coming back to Haven. I mean-" She pauses and a blush spreads across her face. "I imagine Jake wants to settle down here, get married, maybe start a family. At least that's what he's always said."

"AW!" Haley's outburst makes Honey laugh too. "You two make me SICK! Jake Seresin and his perfect little family, all the other PTA moms are gonna give you hell, girl."

Honey rolls her eyes, pursing her lips as Sarah Grace moves to paint lipstick across them. Honey's heart feels full, and her skin is warm with adoration for the girls in front of her. For the first time in her entire life, everything felt right, perfect even. But if there was one thing Honey knew well, nothing good that happens to her lasts forever. She swallows the doubt rising in her chest and stands as the two girls finally finish. She looks at herself in the mirror-a satin black dress adorns her frame, accenting all of her best features. The pearl hairpins Haley had placed in her curly hair shined in the lights, and, while uncomfortable, the heels on her feet fit perfectly. Her eyes widened, for the first time maybe ever, she feels beautiful. Tears rise behind her eyes, and she blinks quickly in an effort not to ruin the makeup. The action isn't lost on Sarah Grace who gives her a sympathetic look, tears forming in her own eyes.

"It all feels so fast, doesn't it?" Sarah Grace's voice is softer than normal. "I mean, we only just became friends and after this summer, we'll all be in different corners of the country. You'll be in Austin, Haley will be in Tennessee, and I'll be Alabama. It doesn't seem fair, does it?"

She was right, in a matter of weeks, Honey would start at UT Austin, Haley at University of Tennessee, and Sarah Grace at Auburn.

Honey shakes her head as she lets a few tears slip through. Haley is a blubbering mess next to her, her arms gathering around both Honey and Sarah Grace's shoulders.

"I love you guys," Haley's voice wobbles as she squeezes them tightly. "But hey, it's a good thing we all look damn good in orange, right? Otherwise we'd be fucked. And! We can all visit each other for games, since we already have the right colors, right?"

Honey laughed into her friend's shoulder, that sinking feeling of dread coming up her throat like bile. As Haley pulls away, she wipes the tears that had fallen, a smile on her face that didn't feel forced at all.

The girl's emotional moment is interrupted by a sharp knock to the bathroom door, Willie's voice sounding.

"You ladies ready?"

Haley said something in reply, but it didn't quiet reach Honey's ears. She was reeling in emotion, and it felt as if her ears were filled with cotton. Her heart raced, and she couldn't stop her mouth from speaking.

"H-Haley? SG?"

The two girls turn to their friend, her eyes filling with another round of tears. They both shuffle to her side, their own eyes cloudy.

"I, um, I just wanted to say...thanks. For so long I truly thought I was invisible, and I just-," she pauses, flashes of the past eight months playing behind her eyes: sleepovers and movie dates, sitting together at football games, gossiping over lunch. "-thanks for seeing me, for being my friend. You'll never know how much that, uh," Honey's bottom lip quivers. She doesn't have to finish her statement, because they've already pulled her back into a massive group hug. They all three laugh as they part, and Haley grabs her hand as they shuffle out the door to the front yard.

Immediately, Honey feels Jake's gaze on her. She pretends to ignore it for a moment, not wanting to meet his jade eyes after just crying, he'd be concerned. Instead, she leaves him waiting as she talks to Haley and SG before they both break off to their own respective partners. Finally, she meets Jake's gaze, his normally light eyes now dark, full of a longing she had only seen once before. She swallows and gives him a shy smile, approaching him timidly.

"You clean up nice, Seresin," she jokes, feeling almost nervous under his gaze, but never uncomfortable.

"Me?" He finally speaks, his calloused hands pulling her in by her hips. "Darlin', you're always beautiful, but-," he shakes his head. "This look will be in my dreams for a while."

Honey laughs, Jake's lips pressing a kiss to the top of her head as they shuffle over for at least an hour's worth of pictures for Janet. The last picture before they all head out, the obligatory picture under Janet's magnolia tree, was one of Honey smiling at the camera, but Jake stared down at her instead. For anyone from the outside looking in, he was simply enamored with her, and couldn't turn his eyes away. While that was true, Jake knew it had more to do with him trying to memorize the happiness painted across her face, because after tonight, he would likely never see it again.

Music thumps in Jake's ears as he sways Honey in his arms. She's a vision below him, and he finds himself unable to keep his eyes (and his hands) off of her. She gives him a smile that dazzles as he spins and dips her to the upbeat pop song sounding from the speakers. She accidentally steps on his toes as he pulls her back in and apologizes, but he pays it no mind, it's not like he could feel it through his dress boots. She had abandoned her heels hours ago at the table they shared with their friends, his suit jacket following not long after. He grins, lifting her over his shoulder without warning, spinning her before placing her back down on her feet. She yelps in surprise, settling back into his hold, it was a move he'd pulled numerous times.

"This isn't a honky tonk! Why are you pullin' out those line dancing moves?!"

She giggles through her words, cheeks rosy with a slightly breathless blush. The action transports them to the summer of their sophomore year, spending hours upon hours in the farmhouse living room in sock feet, desperately attempting to learn the steps to a line dance Jake had convinced her to learn. Jake smiles back down at her, his hands settling on her hips, falling dangerously lower and lower each time.

"Can't I show off a little? Didn't learn all those moves for nothin'," Jake's response intertwines with his cocky smile and a wink. A plastic crown sits crooked on his head, a sash that adorned him 'Prom King' now over Willie's torso across the room. The upbeat pop song slowly morphs into a country love ballad, and Jake pulls her in close. Honey welcomes his touch, resting her head on his shoulder, one of her hands coming to the hair on the nape of his neck, the other resting on his chest. Her hair that Haley had so delicately curled was falling down around her face, and her lipstick that Sarah Grace had spent an hour and a half debating shades of had mostly been wiped away, notably making Jake's lips a little more pink than normal. She nuzzles her nose into the side of his neck as they sway, and Jake feels tingles travel up his spine. His hands pull her closer-if that was even possible-and planted a kiss on her temple.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

"Only a thousand times," Honey responds, her eyes now glimmering in the light as she looks up at him.

"Make it a thousand and one, you look beautiful tonight, baby."

He lifts a hand from her hip, pushing stray hair back behind her ear. Honey blushes, hiding her face in his neck again. She's quiet for most of the song, but it doesn't strike Jake as odd, quiet is her usual state of being. The song is fading when he hears her voice over the music.

"Does it feel weird? That everything is happening so fast? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad high school is ending, but...this time three months from now, SG and Haley will be hours away, and we'll be packing up our things and headed towards Austin. I swear to God just yesterday we were nine years old riding bikes up and down the road and now..."

Honey cuts off her own sentence. Jake certainly knew how fast the time was flying. The dread he had been swallowing for weeks was creeping back up, and the guilt of not telling her was beginning to weigh him down completely.

"It's flyin' by, for sure."

She closes her eyes and lets him sway her for the rest of the song, before the sweet song shifts to one more fit for fast-paced dancing. It was late into the night, and it was likely the adults would be kicking them out within the next hour. He waited for Honey's body to detach from his own, but when it never did, he looked down at her. Her eyes meet his, a look of desperation crossing her face. He'd know that look anywhere-she was overstimulated, and ready to go. He pulls her away just a few inches, his hands still lingering on her hips.

"Why don't you go tell the girls you're leavin' and we'll get out of here?"

She was tired of the party, the crowds, the loud music, and was relieved when she didn't have to utter a word for Jake to understand her discomfort. She nodded and shuffled to bid her friends farewell, returning back to their shared table to slide her shoes back on. Jake catches her out of the corner of his eye and approaches her, a confused look written across his face.

"What're you doin'?"

Honey looks up, "Puttin' my shoes on?"

"They hurt your feet, just let me carry you to the truck."

"That's sweet, J, but I'm heavy and this dress-"

"I wasn't askin', baby," His eyes are that same dark shade from before, and she simply swallows her retort.

He sticks his arm out for her to take, her heels now dangling from his opposite hand. She wraps her hand around his bicep until they reach the door, where he scoops her up as if she weighs nothing. Her arms instantly intertwine around his neck, a laugh escaping her as she laughs at the absurdity of it all-Jake Seresin, her childhood best friend, carrying her bridal style to his truck.

"Somethin' about this funny?"

She simply shakes her head and looks up at him, her face hot.

"Just, imaginin' what eight-year-old us would think, ya know? Nine-year-old Honey would've never imagined this. Would the younger you ever picture this?"

Jake doesn't even have to think.

"Yeah, yeah he could. I was in love with you the second I saw you, Honey, I just didn't know it yet."

Honey is rendered speechless, a warmth spreading in her torso and filtering to the rest of her body. Her eyes dart between his own as he slides her into the passenger side of his truck, darting down to place her shoes at her feet, slinging his jacket in the backseat. He goes to close the door, but her voice stops him.

"Jake?"

He looks up at her, an expression drawn across her face that he'd never seen before. He notes her chest rapidly rising and falling with short breaths, her eyes blown wide and dark, her body language radiating a sort of familiar heat that Jake had felt earlier in the night, when he had first seen her in the dress she was wearing.

"What is it, baby?" His voice is barely above a whisper.

She says nothing, bringing his face in-between her hands as she kisses him with a fervor he'd never seen coming from her. His own hands meet her hips, sliding her across the seat and closer to him. It's all lust, clashing teeth and heated kisses, his hands resting too far down her back and gripping her thighs, her lips on the plane of his neck.

She pulls away, breathless.

"We should get out of here."

Jake didn't have to be told twice as he raced over to the driver's side, his hand finding her leg as he peeled out of the parking lot. Her lips placed a kiss on the underside of his jaw as his grip tightened on her, and Jake was thanking the heavens above his grandparents had built that spare house nearly a mile and a half out from their own house. Jake was the epitome of a southern gentleman, never pushing or even insinuating the few intimate acts they'd shared so far, but now, with Honey looking like that, with her lips teasingly caressing his neck, most of his control had flown out the window.

Jake made it to the house in record time (by running a few stop signs and speeding) and all but flung himself out of the truck, pressing his lips fervently against her own as he pulled her from the truck, and was prepared to break down the damn door of the house to get her alone. He tossed his own shoes off at the door, pushing open the bedroom door with his foot as he plopped her carefully on the bed. She gave a soft chuckle, and he hovers over her close enough to feel her heart racing. He brings his hand to her cheek, his eyes meeting hers. His own chest heaves with short breaths, his mind muddled as he gazes into her dark irises. He brings his own lips to her neck and trailed down to her collarbone, the hands on her waist falling lower and lower as he moves his lips down her skin. He stops himself, looking down at her as his voice grows low and serious.

"Are you sure about this, baby? We can stop at any point. We can stop this right now, no pres-"

Her shaky hands fall on either side of his face, her fingers combing through his blonde locks.

"Jake," she pauses, using a beat to catch her breath. "I've never been more sure of anything. I have nothing to hide from you, I want you to do this. I-I love you."

Jake's heart hammers.

"I love you too."

His lips connect with her own, his calloused hand pushing the strap of her dress down her shoulder exposing her bare skin to him. As she revels under his touch, his mind only sees her, and he could not fathom thinking of her in any other way than in her state of pure bliss.

Hours later, as the moonlight glows on Honey's bare skin, Jake's momentary euphoria is diminishing. He watches her chest rise and fall as she sleeps, his fingers lightly tracing shapes onto her arm. She moves closer to him subconsciously, her face buried into the crook of his neck. He's wide awake, relishing in the contact as long as he can, because this time tomorrow, he'll be stammering and stuttering as he tells her the truth. His mind goes in circles about the acceptance letter hidden in the boot box under his bed. He takes a deep breath and kisses her temple before closing his eyes and willing his mind to shut off, but the storm swirling in his heart keeps him from resting. Jake instead spends his night watching her sleep, seeing her eyes flutter as she dreams, and thanks his lucky stars for the short time he had in her orbit. As the sun's rays begin to shine through the curtains of the bedroom, Jake's eyes finally began to close with sleep, his dreams peaceful.

Honey wakes with to the blinding sunlight hours later. She squints her eyes at the intruding brightness, before adjusting and opening them fully. She looks up to see Jake’s eyes closed with sleep, his blonde locks tossed about haphazardly. Even in sleep his eyebrows furrowed and she frowned, not liking seeing him in discomfort. She kisses the underside of his jaw lightly, and it causes him to stir just slightly. She shuffles just a bit in his hold, her body tired, but her mind wide awake. He shuffles again before his eyes blink open, and his spare hand rubs the sleep from them before looking down at her. He grins.

“Hi,” she speaks sheepishly, her pointer finger drawing shapes against his bare shoulder.

“Mornin’ baby,” He whispers down to her, kissing the crown of her head as he’s waking up. He knows they need to get dressed and shuffle back up to the house soon, or else his grandparents would be nosing around. Them lying naked in bed together was the last thing he wanted them to see.

“Are you okay?”

Her words take him by surprise. He wrinkles his brows, pushing her still slightly curly hair out of her face, before letting it rest around her waist again.

“M’peachy, darlin’. Why? Do I look rough or somethin’?”

She shakes her head.

“You were frownin' in your sleep, thought you were having a bad dream or something.”

Jake sighs, he wished it was only a bad dream. He painted on a smirk.

“I’m fine, promise. Didn’t get much sleep, couldn’t stop staring at the pretty girl in my arms.”

Honey wasn’t quite sure if she believed him, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment by pestering him.

“Such a flirt, Seresin,” she rises up to rest on her elbows, leaning down to leave a chaste kiss on his lips. “We should probably head back up before the old folks start poking around.”

He nods, another signature grin forming on his face.

“I’ll get up and movin’ as soon as you do.”

Honey plops back down against her pillows, the sunlight on her exposed skin now giving her a sunkissed appearance. It made Jake’s insides flame with want again, and he says nothing before kissing her neck again. She’s underneath him again in a split second, the air filled with the chirping of the morning birds and the sounds of pleasure tumbling from both of their lips. After they both reach their highs, she collapses back onto her pillow, his warm hands pulling her back to his front. He nuzzles his head into the crook of her neck, placing a kiss there as he lightly rubs his thumb against the top of her hip. They relish in one another’s presence in the shared bed, stealing kisses and not-so-innocent touches. They’re both too caught up in one another to realize that time was ticking by faster than they could imagine.

As Jake fell asleep next to her, he dreamt of a life years from now, curled into the very bedroom he’d fallen asleep in, a little different in decor, and definitely some thicker curtains, but she’d been bare beneath him, her sweet sounds filling his ears. He’d collapsed next to her, but when he looked down, a gold band adorned his left hand. When sunlight began to peep from around the windows of the imaginary life he created, he noted the sound of children’s laughter in the next room over. When he woke up to find Honey resting under his chin, his dream had almost felt real, more a glimpse into the future rather than a dream.

The cloud they live on seems to float into the next few weeks. It was as if they were finally falling victim to all of the typical teenage love things: sneaking around behind his grandparents back, keeping as quiet as possible while they fooled around with one another in shared sheets. They'd sneak out Jake's window and sneak off to an empty pasture in Jake's truck for complete solitude, just the two of them under a starry Texas sky. Honey had never smiled so wide, and her happiness practically radiated off of her. Jake couldn't help but feel her happiness just by being in her presence, her true bubbly nature on full display for him.

But the day before graduation, they're knocked down from their personal cloud nine.

Honey had left the house early for Haley's-a whole day for Honey to enjoy the warm Texas weather before the stress of graduation tomorrow. She'd been so happy before leaving, bumbling around their shared room in a swimsuit that made Jake's head spin. He'd tempted her to stay behind, all puppy dog eyes and grabby hands. She simply ignored him, grabbing her book of the week off of its designated spot on the bedside table, intending to read it while she sat poolside. She left with a beach towel in hand and a kiss on his cheek.

The second the front door shut with her departure, Jake had been a bundle of nerves, completely on edge as he paced back and forth. By the time he finally settled onto the mattress he had likely worn a hole in the carpet of his bedroom. He had finally procrastinated until the literal very last day, and now he had to burst her bubble with something they could've settled already if he'd just told her. He fumbled with the letter in his hand, rereading the paper over and over as if the words would magically change. His full legal name stared back at him in big, black, bold letters, almost taunting him.

'Mr. JACOB T. SERESIN III

1021 SERESIN FARM RD.

HAVEN, TX 77382

Dear Jacob,

I am pleased to invite you to join the United States Naval Academy as a member of the class of...'

Jake stopped, he didn't need to read anymore. He already knew what it said, and it wouldn't change. He'd already sent his acceptance, and, in less than a month he'd be on his way to Maryland for his summer. He slammed the letter onto the empty spot on the bedside table, throwing on his boots and heading towards the barn in an effort to focus his attention on something else. He worked silently, only his grumbles filling the air as his mind spun with the thousand different ways he was going to explain this to the person who he loved most. He had put it off for far too long, and he had to tell her, today. No more making excuses or putting it off, he would do it, no matter how terrified it made him. He took a deep breath and swiped at the sweat forming on his face as he made his way out to the fence line that needed repairing-that'd keep him busy for a while. As he worked, he was so laser-focused he had hardly noticed the sun beginning to set, or the sound of Haley's car rolling down the driveway. He definitely didn't hear the sound of his girlfriend's sweet laughter as she bid her friend farewell and rushed into the house to find him.

She frowned as she looked on the main floor, finding no signs of him, and she shuffled up the stairs as she called after him.

"Jake, are you up here?"

She noted his open bedroom door, and made her way in. Her shoulders fell as his presence was lacking in the empty room. She shook her head and plopped her bag onto his desk chair and moved to sit her (completely unread) novel onto it's spot on the bedside table, only to find the spot already filled. She assumed the paper was for her, maybe a note left by Jake, so she picked it up and began to read it. Her entire body stilled as she noted Jake's full name in a bold font, his address underneath.

'Dear Jacob,

I am pleased to invite you to join the United States Naval Academy...'

Her heart raced, eyes darting as she skimmed over the fluff of the letter, her attention going back when she noticed dates in bold letters.

'Induction Day is June 27th, which is the beginning of your-"

She stopped reading, her chest feeling tight. She sits down on the bed as she rereads the paper in her hand, as if she had misread the words printed so clearly on the page. Her hands were shaking, and her mind was reeling. She simply could not believe this was real, it had to be some mistake in the system. Jake wouldn't be leaving for Maryland come late June, he was coming with her to UT in August. As her chest heaved, she raced down the stairs with the letter held tightly to her torso. She was thankful Janet and Jacob Sr. had been selling at the farmer's market this afternoon, because her emotions had begun to rise to concerning levels, and if Jake didn't explain, things would get explosive.

When she reached the end of the stairs, she caught his work hat out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey, baby, didn't see you come in," His face is painted with a smirk as he leans against the kitchen counter, glass of water in hand. Honey is having none of his flirtations.

"Jake, what is this?" She lifts the letter so the words were facing him.

Jake's smirk falls, his eyes peering into her own, and he swallows thickly. He says nothing, his mouth feeling incredibly dry despite the water he had just downed.

"This is a joke right? O-Or some mix-up in the system? Maybe you should call them, m-maybe there's another Jacob Thomas Seresin in the system and they sent it to the wrong address, or-" She's shaking her head as she looks down at the letter in her shaky hands. "Because this can't be right. I mean...right?"

Jake looks at her, her chest heaving with short breaths, eyes darting between him and the letter in her trembling hold. She bites her lip, waiting for him to speak, to reassure her it was a big mistake, or a mean prank he'd planted for her, just for him to say something.

He longs to look down and see anger behind her eyes, or for her to scream and shout at him, anything to diminish the pleading look that stares up at him.

"Jake? Talk to me, what's going on?"

He had been quiet for too long. He shakes his head at her.

"I-It's not some mix-up, Honey. I'm going to the Naval Academy at the end of June."

Honey's eyes dart back and forth between his own, trying to understand.

"As like a summer program or somethin'?"

Jake shakes his head again, moving slowly to take the letter from her, grasping her trembling hands into his own.

"I'm attending the Academy full-time. I-"

Honey begins to tune out everything he's saying, as if his words had shut off her ability to think. She stares down at her feet, not sure what to say.

"-I-I wanted to tell you soo-"

"How long have you known?"

Her abrupt words cut him off, and he looks at her confused.

"I-"

"Because I've only heard mention of the Naval Academy once. During football season, and only in passing," She pauses, her once bright eyes now heavy with sorrow. "H-Have you been lying to me this whole time?"

She takes two timid steps back from him, ripping her hands from his grasp.

"Honey, baby, no, I-"

"Don't call me that," her voice is quiet, and when he looks up at her again, her eyes are full of tears that had slowly begun to fall down her cheeks. "This induction d-date, it's less than a month from now. Were you ever going to tell me if I didn't find this?"

Her arms are crossed across her chest, her body language fully on defense. There was no shouting or sharp comments that were fueled by anger, as Jake had expected. Instead of lashing out at him, she simply folded in on herself.

"All these months, everything we talked about. Going to college together, movin' in together, marriage, babies...was it some sick joke to you? Because that shit was real to me, Jacob."

The use of his full name comes as a digging surprise, she only ever used it in a joking manner, but now, she was far from joking. Jake doesn't say anything, standing stupidly as the girl he loves falls apart in front of him. His mind is overrun with things he wants to say to her, to shout from the rooftop, but none of it seems worthy enough at this moment. He's hurt her, in a way he couldn't imagine he ever would, and nothing he could say would fix it.

"I-If you wanted to break up with me," she stops, digging the heels of her hands into her eyes as her lips tremble on the cusp of a sob. She takes a deep breath, one that looks painful even through Jake's own teary eyes. "I-If you wanted to break up with me, yo-you should've just told me, because this, this is so much worse."

Jake's heart sinks, that's the last thing he wanted to do.

"Honey, I'm not breakin' up with you. I-I'm doin' this for you," His chest is rising and falling just as rapidly as hers, but he's not quite as good at pulling the reins of his own emotions. "If I went to UT, I'd waste my grandparents' money takin' classes I would half-ass, and probably permanently damage my body playin' football. I'd come back to Haven after wastin' four years, take over the farm, and stay here forever until I die, n-"

"That's a bad thing? I didn't realize my dreams were so lowly compared to yours." Her voice is sharp. Her uneasiness is now festering in insecurity, and, as a result, anger.

"That's not what I'm sayin'," Jake tries to slow his breathing, desperate pleading with her to just listen to him. "When I go and do this Honey, we'll have a better life. You'll get a gorgeous house on a beautiful piece of land, in any city in the country you want. I'll get to do what I truly want to do for the rest of my life. Honey, I know you love Haven, God, I do too, it's my home, but you and I both know we're made for somethin' bigger, baby."

She can't even bear to look at him, putting almost all of her energy in not collapsing into gut-wrenching sobs in the middle of the tile floor. She shakes her head as she lets out a dry laugh.

"You're so hard-headed, Jake. I already have a gorgeous house on a beautiful piece of land, in the only city in the world I'd want to plant roots in. My house could be a cardboard box next to a dumpster in New York City if you were next to me! You think UT was my dream school, that I wanted to plant my life in Austin?! I chose it because I knew you'd be by my side! That was all I ever wanted! But now I'm realizin' just how girlish and naive that sounds, and I'm sorry. I-I didn't realize you dreamt of somethin' different. I-I just wish you would've told me." She wipes the stray tears sliding down her face, the sad, watery smile he expected her to wear paints her face. She looks back down at her hands, picking at the skin around her nails.

"Congratulations," her voice is so small he hardly hears it. "I know you'll do great, you always do. I, um, I'm gonna go home."

Jake's blood freezes. "You are home."

She gives him another faux smile as she shakes her head back and forth.

"This is your home, Jake. My home is at the end of the road. You know where to find me."

"No," he steps in front of her. "I-I know you're angry, and you've got every right to be. But I'm not lettin' you go back there. You take our bed, I'll sleep on the couch. O-Or we can sleep in separate rooms for now. I'm not lettin' you run off because you're scared I'm leavin'. No matter what you think, I still love you, that's never changin'. I'm not dumpin' you off, Honey, that isn't what this is."

He sees it, the light completely draining from her as the conversation continues. The years of breaking her out of her shell, of healing her eternal worry of everyone she loves leaving, it was all wiped within a matter of minutes. He had carved an open wound into the heart he'd sewn back together, and now, she stands in front of him, numb and completely breaking simultaneously.

Her back is facing him, and his hand lands softly on her arm as her torso shudders with an audible sob. She clutches at her chest as her breaths are short and ragged, and Jake knows this action well. She's panicking, her anxious thoughts culminating in physical symptoms. As much as he, too, wanted to collapse into a pile of grief, he moved to help her through her own.

"Hey, hey, you're okay, you're okay," Jake's voice is at a normal level, his hand grabbing her own and bringing it to his chest. "You gotta breathe, darlin'. C'mon."

Her eyes look up at him, and he doesn't even recognize the person staring back at him. It shakes him to his core, but he pushes through until she's breathing calmly next to him, both of their backs against the counter as they sit on the cold kitchen tile. In an action he doesn't quite understand, she moves to rest her head on his shoulder. She doesn't utter a word, but she allows him to hold her close. She falls asleep against him, and he brings her to his own bed, tucking her in before placing a kiss on her forehead. He moves to leave the room, but her voice stops him.

"Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't leave. Stay with me, please. I don't want to lose you before I have to."

He doesn't argue, his heart is too tender to ever deny her request. He slides into the sheets next to her as she tucks her head under his chin, as if nothing had changed. But, for Honey, everything had changed.

She had been a fool, stupid, to think Jake wouldn't dump her after taking what he wanted from her. Her mother's sharp words rang around in her mind:

"That Seresin boy will dump you the second he gets what he wants, girl. Just you watch."

"You? With a boy like him? You must be more stupid than I thought, sweetheart."

"You're going to end up just like me, lied to, cheated on, with a ungrateful, bitch daughter who hates your guts."

Jake rested peacefully, while Honey saw everything she feared most come alive around her. Silent tears ran down her own face, and as she sat there, she knew what she had to do-if Jake was going to abandon her, she'd follow suit.

The night of graduation, after diplomas had been given out and caps had been thrown, Honey and Jake's small friend group had all come together on the Seresin's place, gathered around a bonfire in an empty clearing, most of them nursing bottles of alcohol they had smuggled from their parents' supply. Honey watched as Jake laughed with Brett and Willie, darting her eyes down when Ethan brought Sarah Grace into a smothering kiss as she jokingly pushed him off of her. She felt like the Honey she used to be-sitting idly on the sidelines as life happened to everyone else. She carried a heavy sadness and anger in her chest, one she could never put down, not even with the concoction of various liquids in the solo cup she held, occasionally taking sips. The burn felt nice, an easy distraction from the gnawing of anger in her chest. She smiled as Willie pulled her from her chair and made her dance to a stupid country song, feeling a little lighter as she let loose. One look at Jake had her shut down again, recluse in her green lawn chair. As the night carried on, she looked out at her friend group one last time, memorizing the warm feeling, because it was the last time they would be her friends. Come morning, she'd be long gone from Haven, and, since they were Jake's friends first, she'd lose them.

After the festivities of the night were over and their guests had stumbled back to their own homes, Jake and Honey made their way back inside, carrying out their routine as if it was any other night. Despite the unresolved feelings she carried, Honey refused to let Jake carry them too. She remained neutral, still sleeping in his arms every night, still tagging along at events, as far as he knew, they had three days until he left for the Academy, and he had planned to spend every waking moment with her. He had no idea of the plans that Honey had, the ones that would unexpectedly change his life forever.

The Seresin farm house was eerily quiet. Everyone was asleep as the moonlight seeped in through the thin curtains. At least, mostly everyone.

Under the guise of the darkness, Honey slips out of Jake's arms slowly, moving so carefully as to not wake him up. If he woke up and caught her, she'd never go through with her plan, she'd be sucked back into bed with his encapsulating emerald eyes and his desperate pleas for her to stay. She shuffles across the hall to her own bedroom, sliding the duffel bag she'd packed out from under her bed, sliding on her trusty Converse high tops, and shutting the door behind her. As she shuffles down the stairs with Jake's car keys in her hands, her racing mind thinks of the conversation they'd had just four days prior. She'd been sleeping in his grasp as he whispered down to her.

"My truck," he started, his hands intertwining in her hair. "I want you to take it, to UT. I won't be here to use it, and it'll make me feel better knowing you'll have a way to get back and forth."

She'd protested and fought him on it, but now, as she snuck out of the creaky front door, she was glad he'd done it. She slung her bag into the back seat, sliding into the driver's side, and slamming the door closed. Her chest heaves with anxious breaths, tears already clouding her eyes. She shoves them down and adjusts the seat that had been set for Jake's lanky legs, and turns the key. The local country station comes on, and Honey ignores it, turning her body to look out the back glass and backs the truck out of the yard and down the dusty driveway, ready for the long drive ahead of her. She was leaving Jake in a way that only felt right-he wasn't going to take that from her, she wouldn't be the one abandoned this time-he would.

Jake had woken as he heard her footsteps descend down the stairs. It wasn't unusual, Honey had been up at all hours of the night since the day of their disagreement. He shut his eyes closed again, leaving his arms open for her to slide back into. When the sound of his truck starting fills his ears, he pops his eyes open, not bothering to even throw on a shirt as he takes the stairs two at a time, running through his house and out the front door in only his boxers. He only gets a glimpse of the taillights down the driveway as his bare feet hit the grass of the yard. He's stomping back through the house, not caring much if he wakes anyone. He's lifting the house phone with a quick pace, dialing her cellphone number even quicker. As he expected, no answer. His hands shake, his heart hammers, and he runs back up the stairs to at least toss on a shirt and some shoes, his looks be damned. He was going to grab the keys to his grandfather's truck and take after her, she couldn't have made it further than down the road by now.

When he slams open his door, he notices the letter on his nightstand, because it's out of place. Normally, Honey's book or multiple books rest there, ready for her to pick up whenever. Instead it's a flat, white sheet of paper, and he glares at it as if he could make it catch flames. He snatches it up and opens it, expecting to find Honey's delicate cursive etched onto it in ink. Instead he finds typed letters, Honey's legal first and last name in big, bold letters at the top of the page. She had likely denoted her preferred name, because it was used in the greeting.

"Dear Honey,

Congratulations on your admission to Mississippi State University! For over 100 years, MSU..."

Jake stops reading, his unease turning into flaming hot anger. He slams the letter back onto the nightstand as tears form in his eyes, his chest growing tight with the bout of sobs threatening to fall from his lips. He sits down on his mattress, his head in his hands as he lets his silent tears fall onto the carpet below. How had he not noticed it? Had there been signs? There had been no sudden withdrawal of her affections, no serious changes in her mood. As Jake calms the best he can at the moment, he realizes she didn't mean this in malice, just like he didn't have any malice behind shipping off to the Academy. He loved her, and, at least he hoped, she still loved him. They had been sewn at the hip since they were nine years old, perhaps it was due time they went their separate ways. No matter how much he told himself that this was for the better, he felt alone, empty. At this moment, despite knowing and loving her for over a decade, Jake, for the first time in his life, finally knew exactly how Honey always felt: abandoned.

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thewulf · 3 months ago

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Wingman's Gambit || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - idk if you’re taking requests rn, but if you are would you mind doing a Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x FemaleBradshawPilot!Reader? where she’s Roosters younger twin sister and he’s really protective over her. anything else included is up to you! i really enjoy your writing!!

A/N: So sorry about the inconsistent posting. Summer is just doing the summer thing! I made Roosters sister a WSO for the stories sake :) Enjoy!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.6k+

T/W : Arguing (With roos)

From your first initial brief encounters with Jake "Hangman" Seresin you gathered enough to understand why his reputation for bravado was almost as well-known as his flying prowess. Despite his cockiness, Hangman always treated you with an unexpected kindness and respect that stood out. Particularly in contrast to his usual smugness. Each interaction, though brief, hinted at a depth beneath the showy exterior which intrigued you more than you had ever anticipated. Especially since you knew how your brother, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw felt about the man… how most pilots felt about him actually.

Now, as you stepped onto the prestigious grounds of Top Gun, it's not just as any recruit. You stepped on as a newly minted WSO. The best of the best elite navigators and tactical hearts behind some of the best pilots in the navy. Here, your brother, has already made a name for himself. He was not just a skilled pilot but a protector, especially where you're concerned. The dynamic at Top Gun shifted perceptibly with your arrival. Rooster, your twin and lifelong guardian, watched over you with a hawk’s vigilance. His protectiveness dialed to its peak amidst the competitive pressures of the academy.

The air crackles with a palpable tension as you walk past the rows of gleaming aircraft with Rooster at your side. Hangman caught sight of you both. The easy grin he typically wears shifts into something more measured though his greeting remains warm and inviting. The rivalry between him and Rooster is well-known and your presence as a WSO—not just Rooster’s sister but a tactical force in your own right—adds a new layer to the already charged atmosphere.

During the initial briefings and training sessions you quickly sensed the underlying tension between Hangman and Rooster. Rooster’s protectiveness was palpable. His demeanor shifting subtly whenever Hangman interacted with you. Despite this though you were determined to carve out your own path, proving your skills in the high-stakes environment of Top Gun and navigating the complex dynamics of friendship, rivalry, and the unspoken rules of engagement.

Your journey at Top Gun was set against the backdrop of supersonic jets and tactical challenges where every decision could tip the delicate balance between personal loyalties and professional duties. With Hangman’s occasional flares of interest and Rooster’s watchful eyes your tenure at the academy was bound to be as thrilling as it was challenging.

First Strike

The debriefing room is abuzz as you and the other members of your squadron file in after a challenging flight simulation exercise. As a WSO your role in today’s mission had been crucial. You managed the weapons systems with precision and played a key part in the team's success. The large screens at the front of the room flicker to life as you set down next to Phoenix. It began showing replays of key moments from the exercise.

Maverick who was your teacher and was overseeing the debriefing, commands the room with an authoritative ease. He walks everyone through various segments of the mission, pausing on a particular maneuver — your maneuver — that had decisively shifted the tide in your squadron's favor.

As the replay highlights your actions, Hangman, usually reserved with his commendations speaks out, “I think we ought to acknowledge the sharp tactics from our WSOs today, particularly Ducky,” he begins, capturing the room’s attention and staring right at you. “Her decisions out there were nothing short of critical. Maybe she should take the lead in coordinating our next sim, see what else she's got up her sleeve.”

Your call sign, Ducky, came as naturally as any others and the irony of it being avian themed wasn’t lost on you. One afternoon after a particularly challenging flight where you demonstrated remarkable agility and finesse your fellow WSO jokingly commented that you were "ducking and weaving like a little duckling out there." The room erupted in laughter, and the name instantly clicked. Despite the initial intention of a light tease, the call sign Ducky resonated, symbolizing not only your ability to maneuver with exceptional ease but also your connection to a family known for their distinctive and memorable contributions to the aviation world.

The suggestion by Jake though seems to take the room by surprise, including Maverick, who raises an eyebrow. He was clearly intrigued by this unexpected praise from Hangman. His interest is evident with a slight smile tugging at his lips as he considers the potential of Hangman’s proposal.

Rooster, however, reacts differently. He doesn't speak. He doesn't need to. His expression tightens, a clear sign of annoyance flashing across his features as he shifts uncomfortably. The protective brother who was always wary of Hangman’s intentions towards you is on edge though he chooses to remain silent. His demeanor speaks incredible volumes though.

Maverick picks up on the tension but chooses to redirect the conversation tactfully. “Interesting point, Hangman. We’ll consider all suggestions. Great work today, everyone, especially our WSO team. Let’s keep the momentum going,” he concludes tactfully before moving the debriefing forward but with a thoughtful look that lingers on you a moment longer, pondering the new dynamics unfolding within his team. With you and Hangman particularly.

After the debriefing concludes the room gradually empties as pilots and WSOs disperse, discussing the day's outcomes and upcoming assignments. You’re gathering your notes when you sense a presence beside you. Hangman leans casually against the table with his hands tucked into his flight suit pockets. That usual mischievous glint in his eyes was showing through as he waited on you.

“Hey, Ducky. Good job today,” Hangman starts, his voice low enough for just the two of you amidst the dispersing crowd. “I wasn’t just blowing smoke in there. You really do have a knack for this.”

“Thanks, Hangman. Just trying to make sure you’re not the only hotshot around here,” you quip with a playful smirk, acknowledging his compliment but keeping the tone light and spirited.

Hangman’s grin widens and he nods towards the doorway where Rooster is lingering. He was clearly waiting for you but doing a poor job of hiding his irritation. “You know, I think your brother might actually laser-beam me with his eyes if he tries any harder,” Hangman murmurs. His voice a conspiratorial whisper that tickles the edge of your ear.

You glance over at Rooster and caught the unmistakable scowl etched across his face. “Yeah, he’s not your biggest fan right now,” you admit while feeling a mix of amusement and familial loyalty tug at you.

Hangman chuckles himself while shaking his head. “Well, if he starts throwing punches you’ll cover me, right? I mean, who’s going to lead the next sim if I’m out of commission?”

His joke eases the tension a bit and you nod, playing along. “I’ll do my best but no promises if he’s really got his heart set on it,” you quip back. Your voice light, teasing.

As you both share a laugh Rooster finally approaches, his steps measured, his expression softening just a touch as he nears. Hangman straightens up while giving you a quick, conspiratorial wink before stepping back to afford you and Rooster some space.

“Ready to go?” Rooster asks, his voice a careful neutral.

“Yeah, just about,” you respond before casting a final smile at Hangman who shoots you a mock-salute and heads off leaving a trace of warmth and a promise of more lighthearted banter for another day.

As Hangman strides away with a confident flick of his hand in farewell Rooster steps closer, his expression serious. “Just be careful with him, alright?” he mutters as his eyes tracked Hangman's departure.

You nod, suppressing the urge to roll your eyes which you let slip anyway as soon as Rooster looks away. “I know, I know. Don’t worry so much,” you reply, keeping your voice light to diffuse any further concern. Despite his protective instincts you're not about to let that dictate your interactions. Not even with someone as notoriously charming as Hangman.

Second Wind

The Hard Deck is buzzing tonight. It was filled with the lively chatter and clinking glasses of Top Gun’s finest unwinding after a week of rigorous training. You’re in the midst of a heated pool game against Payback and the stakes are humorously high. As you line up your shot, the cue ball snapping crisply against your target you sunk it smoothly into the corner pocket. The small crowd od pilots and WSO’s around the pool table lets out a mixture of cheers and groans.

Hangman is the loudest. His voice booming over the others as he claps enthusiastically. “Atta girl, Ducky! Show him how it’s done!” he shouts. The grin evident in his voice. As you straighten up he steps forward while offering you a high-five that lingers just a moment too long. His hand warm and firm against yours. Your smile broadens and a laugh escapes you, fueled by the excitement of the game and the infectious energy of Hangman’s support. Around you the others cheer on, but you catch a glimpse of Rooster at the bar. His glass is halfway to his lips but he’s not drinking. He’s watching. His expression is unreadable, but the set of his jaw and the slight narrowing of his eyes speak volumes.

As the game continues Hangman stays close, his cheers punctuating each of your successful shots. You can’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline with each shout. Not just from the game but also from the attention he’s giving you. It’s fun, it's exhilarating, and it’s something you’ve found yourself looking forward to more often than not.

“You’re killing it, Ducky! Payback’s gonna need a consolation prize after this!” Hangman jests from beside the table. His tone teasing but not without a touch of pride.

Glancing over at Rooster again you notice the slight clench of his fist around his glass, his gaze lingering a moment too long on you and Hangman. It’s clear he’s less than thrilled about the growing camaraderie between you two. He was seeing Hangman’s overt praises as more than just friendly support. Despite the fun atmosphere you can’t shake the awareness of Rooster’s protective instincts flaring up, perhaps seeing Hangman’s enthusiasm as a challenge to his role as your guardian.

The banter between you and Hangman grows more spirited as the evening progresses. Each witty exchange draws laughter from the onlookers and adds a spark to the already electric atmosphere of the Hard Deck. “Careful Payback, she’s got more tricks up her sleeve than I've got maneuvers!” Hangman teases loudly, his eyes twinkling with mischief as you line up another winning shot.

“Yeah, and all of them are better than yours,” you retort without missing a beat. The cue stick hitting the ball with a satisfying click as it sends it hurtling into the pocket.

The growing crowd gets into another round of cheers and Hangman’s laughter joins yours, filling the room with an infectious joy. You can’t help but revel in the blissfulness of it all. The ease of the exchange making the night all the more enjoyable.

From the corner of your eye though you see Rooster pushing away from the bar. His demeanor shifting from protective observer to active participant. Without a word he strides over to the piano in the corner of the room. The conversations around you dim as Rooster’s fingers begin to dance across the keys. That familiar tune that you both loved as kids filling the room.

You can’t help but laugh while shaking your head at Rooster’s not-so-subtle way of stealing the spotlight. “Show-off,” you mutter under your breath though the affection in your voice is clear.

Hangman leans closer, his voice low and amused. “Looks like someone’s trying to remind us he’s still the king of cool around here.”

You lean in too, matching his conspiratorial tone with a playful sparkle in your eye. “You know, I think he’s just trying to draw my attention away from a certain someone,” you say winking subtly at Hangman. “But honestly? I’d rather stay here and chat, just to annoy him a bit more.”

Hangman’s grin widens at that. His eyes lighting up with delight. “Oh, is that so?” he chuckles, clearly enjoying the game. “Well in that case, I’m more than happy to provide all the distraction you need.”

The playful exchange hangs between you, adding a layer of light-hearted flirtation to the evening. Rooster’s piano playing becomes a soft background melody to your continued conversation. Each note a subtle reminder of the familial ties that weave through your interactions. Yet, amidst the laughter and music, there’s a thrill in the air. A shared amusement that only adds to the night’s charm, leaving Hangman more enamored than ever.

Third Time’s the Charm (Or Not)

The briefing room is charged with the usual post-flight tension as pilots and WSOs gather for the day’s assessments and comments from Maverick. You and Hangman had recently completed a tandem training flight that not only went exceptionally well but also demonstrated a seamless dynamic between the two of you. The energy from the flight still buzzes between you as you enter the room together, chatting lightly.

Maverick starts the briefing by outlining the objectives and reviewing key tactical points. As the session nears its end, Hangman, unable to contain his enthusiasm, stands abruptly, interrupting the flow. “I just wanted to say,” Hangman begins, his voice filled with a mix of pride and a hint of something deeper, “flying with Ducky here has been the highlight of my training. Honestly, she’s the best wingman I could ask for.” His eyes find yours across the room with a smile playing at his lips. The statement hanging heavily in the air, laden with unspoken implications.

The room falls into a stunned silence with every eye turning to gauge the reactions around them. Rooster’s chair scrapes back loudly as he stands, his face flushed with anger and frustration.

“This is just you trying to get under my skin, Hangman! Every damn time!” Rooster snaps. His voice cutting through the tension like a knife. The accusation hangs heavy, charging the air with an unmistakable intensity.

You feel a surge of frustration, your own temper flaring as you stand to face your brother. “Really, Roos? Is it always about you? Maybe he likes me as his wingman. Have you ever thought of that?” Your voice, sharp and loud, silences the room completely. The weight of your words settling over everyone like a thick blanket.

Maverick was caught off-guard between the sibling spat and simply looks between you and Rooster. His expression unreadable but clearly uneasy with the escalating drama. Hangman, meanwhile, watches the exchange with a look of remorse, realizing perhaps too late the depth of the rift his words have deepened. As the tension reaches a palpable peak you shake your head more in disappointment than anger, and storm out of the briefing room. Hangman hesitates only a moment before following you, his steps quick as he catches up.

Outside, the cool air hits you like a splash of water helping to temper your heated emotions.

Hangman watches you with a concerned expression as you step outside. “Hey, I know that got intense back there. I’m sorry you had to jump in,” he says softly, his tone sincere.

You sigh, feeling the sting of your outburst. “I just... I didn’t mean to blow up like that. It’s just frustrating when it feels like he doesn’t see me as anything more than his little sister to protect.”

Hangman nods while stepping closer, his presence comforting. “I get it. And for what it’s worth, I meant every word I said in there. You really are the best wingman, Ducky.” His voice carries a warmth that makes you look up, meeting his reassuring gaze.

The corners of your mouth lift in a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Hangman. That means a lot, especially coming from you.” You knew full well he wasn’t one to hand out compliments.

His expression softens and he offers a small, encouraging chuckle. “And, hey, if it’s any consolation, you standing up to your brother in there? That was pretty badass. Not many people can make Rooster pause like that. Trust me, I’ve tried” He smirks trying to ease your frustration.

You laugh at that sounding more relaxed now. “Well, I guess it’s good to know I have a hidden superpower: stopping Bradley in his tracks.”

“Definitely a valuable skill around here,” Hangman agrees, his grin infectious. “Look, I know things can get complicated, but I’m here, alright? Wingman on the ground and in the air.”

The simple assurance brings a sense of relief, and you nod feeling the earlier tension dissipate. “I appreciate that, Jake. Really.”

As you both head back inside the conversation flows more easily, veering into lighter territories—upcoming missions, favorite downtime activities, and the occasional gentle tease. With each step you find yourself genuinely smiling. The weight of the day lifting with the shared understanding that whatever comes next you won’t face it alone.

Clearing the Air

After the tension of the previous day, you know something has to give. Seizing a quiet moment in the early evening you find Rooster and Hangman at the base and steer them toward a secluded spot near the hangar. The impromptu gathering under the fading sky isn’t formal but the air is thick with unsaid things.

“Okay, guys,” you start, cutting straight to the chase. “We need to sort this out. Whatever this is.” You sigh, “Rooster, I appreciate you looking out for me, I really do. But I’m not just your little sister here… I’m a WSO in the Navy, and I need you to trust my judgment. Not just in the air but here on the ground, too.”

He tries to bite his tongue, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Listen, Y/N, I’m just looking out for you. That’s my job as your brother,” Bradley insisted. His voice stern and unyielding.

Jake shifted uncomfortably, sensing the rising heat in Rooster's tone but remaining silent. His eyes flicking between the two of you.

“It’s not just about being my brother, Bradley!” you shot back, your frustration with him now boiling over. “I’m not a child, and this… this overprotective routine? It’s suffocating. I’m an adult! A WSO and a damn good one at that. I make life or death decisions every day. I can handle Jake. I can handle myself.”

Bradley’s expression tightened. His jaw clenching as he prepared to argue, but you didn’t let him. “I need you to trust my judgment, Roos. Trust that I know what I’m doing. Trust that I can take care of myself.” Your eyes are pleading now.

The raw honesty in your voice seemed to cut through the tension, leaving a heavy silence. Jake watched, his usual bravado nowhere in sight instead replaced by a look of respect towards your fervent declaration.

Bradley looked from you to Hangman, then back again. The fight draining from his stance. He sighed deeply, the lines of his face softening. “I… I’m sorry. I know you’re capable. It’s just hard for me to not see you as my little sister. But you’re right. You deserve to make your own choices. I’ll try to back off.”

You breathed out a mix of relief and residual adrenaline making your hands tremble slightly. “Thank you, Roos. That’s all I ask.”

Turning to Hangman, your tone softens. “And Jake, you’ve been great, really supportive. But sometimes the way you push Bradley’s buttons doesn’t help things. We’re all on the same team, right?”

Jake chuckles while scratching his head sheepishly. He was immensely grateful you were able to handle that before things got too sticky. “Yeah, you’re right darlin’. I might enjoy teasing him a bit too much. I’ll keep it in check.” He nods his head to Bradley. A truce of sorts.

Relief washes over you as the tension begins to dissolve. “Thank you, both. Let’s remember we’re here to make each other better, not make things harder.”

As the conversation winds down, the mood lightens, and Bradley claps you both on the shoulders. “Alright, let’s get back to it then. And maybe I’ll try to keep the drama for the simulators,” he says with a reluctant grin.

As your brother walks away Jake lingers, his smile genuine. “So, now that peace is restored, how about we grab dinner? Just you and me. I owe you one for being the peacekeeper around here.”

Your laughter echoes lightly in the cool evening air. “Sounds like a plan. Just promise it’ll be a drama-free meal.”

“Scout’s honor,” He grins as he fell into step beside you. As you walk towards the mess hall together the easiness between the two of you feels restored. And maybe, just maybe, you feel things a little bit deeper than before.

“Y/N, I wasn’t just trying to get on your good side earlier, you know?” Jake adds as you reach the door. “You really are the best at what you do.”

You nudge him playfully, feeling the last of the day’s stress melt away. “Keep that up and I might let you win at the next sim.”

Hangman laughs loudly. It was a sound you were coming to enjoy. “Deal. But only if you save me a seat next to you at dinner.” As you step into the warmth of the mess hall you can’t help but feel optimistic. With everything laid out and understood the path forward seems a lot clearer. And having Hangman at your side doesn’t just feel good. It feels utterly right.

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tongue-like-a-razor · 10 months ago

Text

Less Talk | Part IX

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: It's been a minute, y'all! I've missed my Less Talk crew! Second last chapter, here we go!

Summary: Jake can't stand Bradley's best friend. What's more, he's probably in love with her, which really pisses him off.

CW: Swearing, smut, angst, fluff, you might dislike me when this is over

Masterlist | Part I

“Jake!” you call as you run after him out of the restaurant. “Jake, wait!”

But Jake doesn’t stop. He can’t.

The moment Mustang utters the words ‘we’re engaged’, he goes numb. Bradley says something that he can’t quite hear or doesn’t want to comprehend. The crowd starts cheering and closing in. And he sees your eyes, wide with alarm as you try to keep him in your line of sight despite the moving bodies between you.

And then he’s gone. Shoving his way through the well-wishers as he makes for the door. But he’s only halfway to his truck when he hears your voice. And as he pulls aggressively on the handle, he perceives your approaching footsteps; you’re running.

He lets out an aggravated sigh and turns to look at you without a word. You jog toward him, stopping just short of his bumper, and then you move forward slowly, as though you’re afraid he might bolt.

“It’s not true,” you blurt out, your words slurring into one another because you’re trying to get them out so quickly.

Jake gawks at you, not know what to believe anymore.

“I promise you,” you say. “It’s over.”

Jake furrows his brows, staring at you incredulously. “I don’t think he knows that.”

You let out a shaky breath and sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep it from trembling. “He will.”

Jake watches you with contempt. “So, he doesn’t yet.”

Your eyes sparkle in the afternoon sun but you blink away the tears, conveniently averting your gaze. Jake sets his jaw; he isn’t falling for the innocent act.

“I can’t help you,” he says levelly. “Because I don’t know what’s going on.” He bangs a fist on the hood of his truck and then takes a step toward you. “Because you won’t tell me anything!”

You nod, catching a couple of tears with the tip of your index finger. You don’t let any of them fall and you manage to compose yourself before your emotions get out of hand. “I don’t need your help,” you whisper, looking at the dirt caked into the treads of his tire rather than up at his face.

“Fine,” he replies. Although it’s not fine. Nothing is fine. He, certainly, is not fine. “Then I don’t need to be here.”

“Fine.” You shrug, obstinately avoiding eye contact.

Your apathetic tone irks Jake, but he’s not about to let you witness just how much you affect him. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans before balling them up into fists. There’s only one piece of information he absolutely needs to know. The rest can probably wait. “Are you gonna marry him?” he asks, a little more forcefully than he anticipates.

You meet his gaze finally – guiltily – but don’t respond.

Jake says nothing more. He opens the door to his truck and gets in, and you don’t stop him. He turns over the engine and waits for you to step out of the way before he backs out swiftly and floors it out of the lot.

…

The sound of your voice jolts him awake. He sits up straight in his bed, listening intently, wondering if he’d dreamt it. But then your laughter carries up to the second floor. Jake closes his eyes. You must be in the kitchen with Bradley.

Jake hasn’t seen you in two weeks; hasn’t wanted to. Seeing you has only ever caused him pain. Even before he realized he liked you, your presence had always seemed to shift him out of orbit. Your stupid quips and endless debates, the judgmental look in your eye whenever Jake tried to stand his ground. It got worse when it finally occurred to him that he enjoyed that sort of abuse.

Jake runs his hands over his face, trying to tune you out. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss the arguments. You’re the only person who’s ever really put him in his place. And how he’s loved putting you in yours.

Jake gets out of bed with a sigh, pausing at the closed door of his bedroom to listen. It isn’t eavesdropping if he’s not actually interested in the topic of conversation; all he wants is to hear your voice.

“I swear I will never drink drip coffee again,” you announce with conviction.

Jake holds back a laugh, leaning his head into the doorframe.

“It’s basically sewer water by comparison,” you continue.

Jake snorts.

“Have another croissant,” you urge.

“You brought enough to feed a squadron,” he hears Bradley retort. “I’m not eating them all.”

You go quiet for a moment, saying something Jake can’t quite make out. He pushes off the frame and shuffles into the bathroom. He’s still pissed, and no amount of baked goods will convince him to go downstairs. He’s not ready for that. And, if all goes to plan, he’ll just slowly get over you and never have to see you again.

Once he’s out of the shower, Jake towel dries his hair and then quickly pats down his body. He listens for signs of conversation, but the house is quiet now. You and Bradley must have left.

“Bradshaw?” he calls, just in case.

No answer.

He heads down to start a pot of coffee before getting dressed but, when he enters the kitchen, you are the first thing he sees. You look up from where you're sitting at his table and yelp – because he’s butt naked – leaping out of your seat and covering your eyes with your hands, promptly turning away.

“What the fuck, Seresin!” you scream.

Jake jumps behind the counter. “What?” he shouts. “What the fuck, yourself! What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see you!” you screech. “But, like, not so much of you!”

Jake cringes, still in shock from the encounter. He grabs a throw blanket off the couch and wraps it around his waist. “Why didn’t you answer when I called down?” he yells, his temples pounding as if his head is housing a goddamn woodpecker.

“You called for Bradley!”

Jake shakes his head. “Are you kidding me?”

“Why are you running around naked?” you squeal, still turned away and holding your hands over your eyes.

“I thought I was home alone! You don’t walk around naked in your own home?” Jake cries in outrage. He’s not about to let you win this fight.

“Uh, sometimes, I guess,” you admit.

Jake, who’s about to retort to whatever argument you make, falls silent. He stares at your back, trying very hard not to picture what that particular scenario might look like. He gulps. “Well, alright, then,” he says. He steps away from the counter, the blanket securely tied at his hips, and walks around tentatively. “You can look now,” he says wearily.

Hesitantly, you turn to face him, although you avoid looking directly at him. “You’re still not wearing a shirt,” you say pointedly, keeping a hand up to block the view.

Jake grimaces. “Is it too exhilarating for you, princess?” he bites back.

You drop your hand and finally look at him – albeit with a scowl. You narrow your eyes irritably. “Get over yourself.”

Jake shrugs. “You can always return the favor,” he suggests, gesturing at your baby tee that’s hugging your curves just right.

You roll your eyes and make your way toward the counter, purposefully walking around the table – which is the longer route – to avoid getting too close to Jake. He watches you levelly. “Why did you want to see me?” he asks sourly.

You glance up at him, still frowning, and push a bakery box across the counter toward him. “I brought you breakfast.”

Jake doesn’t smile; one breakfast two weeks down the road isn’t going to magically repair the damage you’ve done. “Why?”

You gulp. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Jake lets out an irritable sigh and drops his gaze. “I’ve got nothing to say to you,” he responds moodily.

You reach further down the counter and drag a paper cup into view. “I got you a coffee, too,” you add, as though this might tip the scales in your favor. “Americano.”

Jake, who is dying for some caffeine, responds with, “I’m not thirsty.”

You exhale sharply. “Don’t be a baby.”

He fixes you with a scathing look. “Don’t be a nuisance.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Am I bothering you?”

Jake scoffs. “Well, for starters, you’re still here.” He walks over to the refrigerator and takes out a carton of eggs. “You hungry?” he asks grumpily.

You turn to face him as he sets a bowl down on the counter and starts cracking eggs. He’s right next to you now so he can see you seething out of the corner of his eye.

“I brought you breakfast!” you cry in outrage.

Jake starts to whisk the eggs without looking at you. “I don’t want that, I want this.” He glances over at you at this point and adds spitefully, “We all have to make difficult choices from time to time.”

“For fuck’s sake, Jake!” you exclaim, pulling the bowl out from under his nose. Half-beaten egg splashes onto the counter.

Jake tosses his whisk into the sink and takes a step away from the counter. He releases a quick breath and sets his jaw; but he still can’t look at you. “What is your problem?” he says in a low voice, keeping his eyes on a random chip in the paint of one of his kitchen cupboards.

“What’s my problem?” you screech.

He can tell that you’re getting worked up and it’s taking all his energy to keep his cool. He clenches his teeth and rolls his shoulders, trying to relax the tension in his muscles.

“You’re so mad at me that you won’t even drink my coffee?” you yell, the bowl of raw egg still in your hands.

Jake stares harder at the paint chip because he’s on the verge of completely flying off the handle. But he could only devote so much of his attention to negligible bullshit until he finally breaks. Agitatedly, he meets your gaze and bellows, “I’M SO MAD AT YOU, I CAN’T EVEN LOOK AT YOU!”

Your mouth falls open at his words and you blink at him in shock. After a moment, you look away, silently replacing the bowl on the counter. You’re chewing on your lip as you do this, your gaze lingering on the bowl even after you’ve released it from your grasp, like you’re reluctant to let it go.

Jake briefly closes his eyes. You’re not facing him, so you don’t witness the fleeting display of regret that steals over his features. He doesn’t want to hurt you in a way that makes you go quiet. He wants you to react – loudly, obnoxiously, passionately. He wants you to yell back. Because that’s how he knows you’re okay.

“I’ll go,” you say, tucking your hands into the back pockets of your shorts. You glance up at him, meeting his gaze with a resigned sort of look.

He nods. As much as he might've missed this kind of heated warfare, the lingering hostility is not in anyone’s best interest. “There’s an idea,” he says sarcastically, still keeping a safe distance away from where you’re standing by the counter.

Your mouth falls agape again. “Excuse me?”

He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to go. But, if you do, he wants you to leave angry; not sad. So, he provokes you. “And take your crazy with you,” he says, gesturing toward the front door with his entire arm.

You let out an indignant scoff that turns into a sort of cry. “What did you call me?” you shriek, stepping up to him aggressively.

Jake glances down at you, squaring his jaw to keep from smirking. “What’s the politically correct word for completely unhinged?”

Your eyes go wide and, for a split second, he thinks you might actually hit him. But you’re not one for physical violence; you can strike below the belt with your words. “As if you give a damn about offending an already stigmatized group of people,” you retort.

Jake narrows his eyes. “At least I give a damn about the people I actually know.”

You let out a derisive laugh. “Oh yeah? So much so that you’re practically shoving me out the door?” you yell.

Jake rolls his eyes. “No one’s kicking you out,” he says gruffly, walking past you back to the counter. “Just stop taking my eggs away and we’re gravy.”

You fold your arms grumpily and stand there in his kitchen, fuming.

He looks over his shoulder at you. “What?” he says.

“You don’t like croissants?” you ask crossly, as if he’s gravely insulted you by opting for scrambled eggs.

Jake sighs. He reaches for the box of pastries on his counter and throws open the lid. He grabs a croissant irritably and brings it to his mouth, taking a large bite. “Happy?” he asks, chewing.

You watch him impassively. “You’re ridiculous,” you say.

“You’re ridiculous!” he yells. “You’re pissed because I won’t eat your damn food?”

Your eyes suddenly well up with tears. “I’m pissed because – because” – you suck in your cheeks defiantly, as if you’re not prepared to elaborate.

Jake swallows uncomfortably; he doesn’t like the idea of being responsible for making you cry.

You shake your head and sniffle. “I’m not mad!” you shout. “I came here to make up with you!”

Jake tosses the croissant onto the counter and it lands in the spilt yolk from earlier. He ignores this and steps toward you. “Why?” he yells back.

“Why what?” you scream as he approaches.

“Why make up with me?” he presses.

You stare at him angrily. “What do you mean? We were friends!”

Jake shrugs. “We weren’t close.”

You scoff. “You’re a fucking liar.”

“I don’t want to be your friend,” Jake says levelly, then he adds, raising the volume of his voice as if the conversation could stand to get any louder. “I never wanted to be your friend!” You go quiet for a moment, your tears subsiding as you take in his words. But he doesn’t give you a chance to mull them over. “You’re a fucking nightmare!” he continues emphatically, taking another step.

You lift your face as he draws nearer, glaring at him unblinkingly. You don’t back away; you stay put, even as he towers over you.

Jake grimaces in a way that conveys disgruntlement and despair in equal measure. He lets out an uneven sigh, his eyes skimming over your face. “You’re a pain in the ass,” he says, much quieter now, as he meets your gaze.

You stay perfectly still, as if his immense frame looming over your body is completely insignificant compared to your ruthless glower. In all fairness, you’re probably right. “I hate you,” you whisper.

Jake nods with a slight smirk. “Likewise.”

The thrill of riling you scorches his veins, but he’ll be damned if anger is the only thing he can make you feel. He wants you so desperately, he can hardly think straight.

You’re scowling at him but all he can see is the fire in your eyes, fierce and unrelenting, daring him to make another move. Jake is game – enthusiastically, to boot. He’s mad, sure. But, truth be told, you could be engaged to fifty men – none of them him – and he’d still want to fuck you. Hell, this only makes things easier; no fucking strings, just fucking sex.

He slides an arm behind your waist and pulls you forward abruptly. You gasp as if you weren’t expecting it. But with the way you’ve been staring him down, there is no way you didn’t see this coming.

He waits a moment, anyway, allowing you the opportunity to give him a smack for being overly presumptuous. But the animosity on your face has already been replaced with a kind of cautious curiosity. You’re very still, staring up at him sympathetically, because you know – you know – what he wants. Because you want it too.

Jake lifts his free hand up to the side of your neck, sliding it up through your hair to cup the back of your head and gently pull you forward. This is exactly the kind of situation he was meaning to avoid. But the warning bells are fleeting, and his lips are on top of yours before he can stop himself.

You push into him slightly – almost imperceptibly, except he perceives it – and instantly this kiss becomes the single most thrilling experience of his life. He moves in, absorbing your body in a rushed, impatient embrace, and you mold against him, closer than you’ve ever been before.

He can feel the soft fabric of your shirt rubbing against his skin but all that he truly registers is how your tits are compressing into his chest. He kisses you harder, stifling an entire anthology of dirty words that suddenly materializes on the tip of his tongue. There aren’t enough terms in the English language to fully express the way he craves to handle every inch of you, anyway.

You withdraw, at this point, to breathlessly exclaim, “You think you’re not a pain in the ass?”

Jake pulls you back with a mild roll of the eyes. “Shut up,” he mutters, kissing the corner of your mouth as you scoff in outrage.

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” you retort between the pecks he layers over your lips.

Jake grins against your mouth. “Shut up,” he repeats, dragging you backward as he steers you toward the staircase.

You let out a muffled – but distinctly indignant – cry. “Make me!” you exclaim as he stoops to wrap his hands around your thighs and lift you off the ground.

“I’m fucking trying,” he replies, closing his mouth around yours once he's picked you up.

Strategically speaking, making out while carrying someone up a flight of stairs is efficient. In practice, however, it’s a complicated task. Several times, Jake veers into one of the railings or nearly trips over his own feet. By the time he’s reached the second floor, his legs are tangled in the blanket he had wrapped around his torso, and the blanket itself is on the verge of unravelling. But Jake ignores the obstacles and resolutely marches you right into his bedroom.

He throws you unceremoniously onto the bed and retightens the blanket around his hips as though he means to keep it on. He looks down, pausing for a second to watch you catch your breath. Not because he thinks you might unexpectedly have a change of heart, but because he wants to savor the moment. He takes your legs and unhurriedly pulls you closer to where he stands. “You’re awful quiet,” he notes with a smirk, his fingers winding up the sides of your thighs.

You gulp with a relatively stoic expression for someone who’s about to be railed. “You told me to shut up,” you deadpan.

Jake raises his eyebrows. “You listened?”

You bite into your lips, nodding slowly, and Jake’s heart damn near somersaults right out of his body. For once, you want to give up the reins.

He reaches up underneath the fringed hem of your shorts, grabbing your ass and tugging you forward. “What, no instructions?” he says, his hands lingering on your butt cheeks because he’s waited oh so long to squeeze that flesh. The way your eyes half-close tells him you don’t necessarily mind.

“You need instructions?” you say in a breathy but still detectably mocking tone.

Jake chuckles. “Whether or not I need them isn’t likely to stop you.”

“I can do a post hoc analysis,” you say as one of his hands finally moves upward, bunching your shirt at your ribs to expose your stomach.

Jake grins at your words. “Hot.” So much for dirty talk. Apparently, the plan is to have sarcastic sex.

Your lips spread into a wry smile, and you reach up to the blanket tied around his waist to pull him on top of you. “Stop talking, Seresin,” you whisper.

“Hey, that’s my line,” he says, bracing himself on his forearm at the side of your head. He stares into your eyes, wondering if he could really go through with it. How much does he really need to understand the complexities of your situation with Mustang? Isn’t it enough that you’re clearly hot for Jake? Isn’t it enough to just fuck and forget that you’re technically taken?

You’re watching him back, probably wondering the exact same thing. Isn’t it enough?

The truth is, every single moment spent in your presence is enough for Jake. And he was a fool to think that he could ever stay away.

He glides his hand up your abdomen, feeling your breath hitch underneath his fingertips every time he lets them linger for a moment atop your skin. Does Mustang know that you like it slow? That you want to feel the rush of anticipation? Jake is willing to bet that Mustang only goes one speed.

Jake traces the curve of your ribs, his exploration leading him eventually to the swell of your breasts. Your bare breasts. How he hadn’t noticed that you’d been braless downstairs bemuses him. He must’ve been too preoccupied with his own wardrobe to thoroughly examine yours.

His hand seizes for a moment as he gets used to the idea of touching you. Of feeling your chest flare into the palm of his hand every time you take a breath. Then, he wraps his fingers around your ribcage, his thumb grazing the side of your tit as he moves you upward on the bed.

“You comfortable?” he asks after repositioning you.

You nod, your eyes still locked on his like you’re trying to see right through to his soul. When his thumb sweeps underneath your breast, you let out a whimper that disturbs the air between your mouth and his. And there’s a dizzying note of desperation in your voice that paralyzes Jake.

He drops his head into the crook of your neck, wondering how long before he’s completely lost himself in you. Wondering if that ship’s sailed. Wondering if Mustang has ever felt like he’s drowning and soaring all at once. If he’s ever been this gone. If you’ve ever moaned like that for him.

“Fuck,” he mutters against your skin, realizing that he’s lost the upper hand. That he’s going to need a moment to recuperate. That there’s a debilitating weakness in his limbs that’s an extension of his weakness for you, and he can hardly hold himself up any longer.

He breathes heavily into your neck, his lips catching on your collarbone as his fingers skim across your nipple. You let out a breathy whine that vibrates his very core. You like being teased. Figures.

Jake drives his pelvis into your side, seeking a split second of relief. The blanket around his torso is a mess of twisted, sticky fabric that’s now pressing into your bare skin, hopefully arousing you. You move your leg up and down, stroking him through the fleece with your thigh, and Jake groans, spreading his fingers over your tit and finally giving it a squeeze.

You release a soft moan and Jake brings his lips to your other nipple, grazing his teeth over the thin cotton of your shirt. It’s not that he can’t be bothered to remove your clothes, rather, he very well might not survive the spectacle. So, he sucks on your nipple right through the fabric while continuing to massage your other breast, pressing himself closer and closer.

This is all that he could ask for, really. You, in his bed, at long last talked out. And yet, he can’t help himself; conversing with you has become second nature and, without even thinking, he mutters, “This doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

You let out a laugh that morphs into a soft cry as Jake pinches your nipple.

“Wouldn’t want you getting the wrong idea,” he continues, smirking against your neck.

Your chuckle pleases him. “Maybe if I weren’t such a pain in the ass.”

Jake squeezes his eyes shut, cringing slightly as he nuzzles his head under your chin. “Maybe,” he agrees, dragging your t-shirt upward. He lifts his head and meets your gaze as you raise your arms, letting him remove it. “Maybe if you didn’t hate me,” he adds, somewhat hoarsely because you’re half naked now and he’s understandably distracted.

You bring your arms back down and slide your hands unhurriedly up his chest, linking your fingers behind his neck. “And you me,” you remind him gently.

Jake lets himself take you in for a moment, his eyes slipping southward before he looks back at you with a smirk. “At least the feeling’s mutual,” he says, slowly lowering himself until his lips meet yours.

You open your mouth, bathing Jake in your hot breath as you kiss him, and he reciprocates the gesture eagerly. Urgently. His hand is suddenly gripping your leg, sliding up the inside of your thigh. You’re moaning before he’s even reached the summit, tearing viciously at his lips with your teeth. Your fingers are twisting into his hair as you pull yourself into him, breathless and impatient.

Jake unbuttons your shorts with a couple of fingers and is hastily pushing them over your hips as your breathy gasps warm his ear. “What is it, princess?” he whispers, suddenly slowing his pace. He kicks your shorts off your ankles and places his hand on your inner thigh where he gently strokes your tender skin. He grins wickedly. “What can I do for you?”

“Jake!” you whimper desperately, shimmying yourself down to meet his hand.

Jake obliges, sliding his fingers up between your legs. He’s not about to make you beg for it when he can barely keep it together himself. Another time, maybe. Assuming there will be one. He’d like to hear you ask for it. Tell him exactly what you want, sparing no detail. He wants you to talk dirty to him. Talk, talk, talk.

But instead of talking, you reach out and grab him by the waist. You blink up at him silently and maneuver his hips until he’s right over top of you. Then, without taking your eyes off his face, you unravel the blanket that’s somehow still wrapped around him and shove it aside.

Jake has never in his life made love. He’s fucked, sure. He’s had plenty relations. And this time is no different. Except, he’s feeling something pure amidst the lewd temptation driving his corpus. It’s a buoyancy that’s both nauseating and distressingly pleasant and it radiates outward from his chest, nearly overriding his ever-present desire to make – fuck you silly.

And then, as Jake slides slowly inside you, you cling frantically to his neck and utter a shaky, monosyllabic nonword that is the epitome of less talk.

And Jake is suddenly making love.

…

“Y/N came earlier today,” Bradley says to Jake that evening, casually popping open a can of beer.

Jake lifts his eyes and looks over at his friend with a straight face. “She did,” he confirms.

“Oh.” Bradley nods. “She caught you, then.”

Jake stares at him mutely before turning away and clicking the kettle on the counter. “You could say that.”

Bradley nods, taking a gulp of beer. “She told you, then?”

Jake freezes with his hand on his mug. The only thing he seems to recall you saying is not something you would have also said to your best friend. “Told me what?” he says, slowly turning to face Bradley.

The latter furrows his brows. “Did you guys talk?”

Jake watches Bradley curiously. “Tons,” he responds. “You know how she never shuts up.”

Bradley narrows his eyes suspiciously. “You did see her, right?”

“I did,” Jake says confidently because he, indeed, saw you. All of you.

“Weird,” Bradley says. “She said she was hanging back so she could tell you too.”

“Tell me what, Bradshaw?” Jake asks impatiently, forgetting about the boiling kettle as he walks toward the table with an empty mug in his hand.

Bradley sets down his beer and leans back in his chair uneasily. “That she’s leaving.”

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topguncortez · 1 year ago

Text

Dead On Your Feet || Whumptober Day 9 - J. Seresin

whumptober masterlist || whumptober taglist

synopsis: you were born with the family flaw that left you missing a part and scared

word count: 4.2k

@ailesswhumptober prompt: scar reveal

Warnings: heart transplant, mentions of scars, teasing, unwanted sexual contact, mentions of sexual assault.

You were only a mere hours old the first time you had open heart surgery. They had whisked you away from your mother’s warm embrace, heading straight into the cold, sterile field of the operating room to try and fix a heart defect. It had been successful, but the doctors told your family that it wasn’t the end.

“The family flaw,” Your mother said to you, as she combed through your hair one night. You hated how matted your hair got when you would have hospital stays, “Your granddad had it, I have it, and I passed it to you.” She placed a kiss on your forehead, “You’ll get through this. And live a happy, healthy life.”

And she was right.

You had your first-ever heart transplant at twelve years old. You couldn’t remember much before that surgery. You could remember not being able to go play with your siblings. You could remember your parents crying when talking to the doctors outside of your hospital. You could remember your mom praying and telling God how awful she felt for asking for a heart for you, knowing that it would mean some other child had to die. You also remember asking the doctor if it was going to leave a scar.

“There will be a scar, it’ll go down the center of your chest,” The doctor said, making a straight line from the top of your sternum to about halfway down your chest, “You’ll be able to cover it up.”

The surgery had been successful, you came out of it with flying colors. It was a bit odd to think about at twelve years old, how you had some stranger’s heart beating inside your body. Your parents didn’t like to talk about it, but you wanted to know about the heart you got. Who did it belong to? Were they a boy or a girl? How old were they? Did their parents wish for someone else to die to save them?

You never had any reason to be ashamed of your scar. Sure, it was ugly and jagged and pink. Your doctor had told you that the cuts were all clean and that everything would heal nicely in due time. Your parents told you it was your battle scar, and to wear it with pride. And of course, at twelve years old, you thought it was cool. How many kids your age had battle scars? You loved it when you got to go back to school and bring the surgical photos that the doctor had given you. Everyone thought you were pretty cool when you showed them the top of your scar, the part that peaked out just above your shirt collar.

But then, you grew up. Puberty happened. Girls were suddenly obsessed with their looks and the attention of the guys. Just like many girls, you went through that stage of staring at yourself in the mirror for too long. Spending more time than necessary on your hair and make-up just to go to the pool one hot summer day. But it was the summer before sophomore year of high school, everyone knew it was the summer to make an impression. You had gotten through that awkward first year of high school where everyone was trying to figure out how their new bodies worked, and how to properly use body spray. You had gotten your braces off at the end of the school year and finally knew how to straighten your hair without frying it.

Your friend, Julie called to tell you that the football players were going to be at the pool after practice. You rode your bike to the local pool, meeting your friends and finding the perfect spot where you’d get the most sun and the boys would have to walk right by. You didn’t even think about how your scar would be on display with the two-piece baby blue swimsuit you picked out until you pulled your shirt over your head and heard a squeal.

“Y/N! Your skin!” Julie gasped.

You quickly pulled your shirt down and looked at her confused, “What? Do I have backne?”

“No,” She whispered, “Your scar. . . I thought it would be like. . .I don’t know. . .not like that.”

“Like what?” You asked, your eyebrows pinched in confusion.

“It’s kind of fugly,” Laniey said, with a snort. Laniey was drop-dead gorgeous, with long beautiful legs and tan skin on display. She had hit puberty first and wore it with a badge of honor as she fixed her swimsuit top to make her breasts perk up.

“No, it’s not,” You scoffed, “It’s a battle-”

“No one is gonna wanna make out with the freak who has a dead person’s heart in their chest,” Lainey shrugged, putting her earbuds in her ears. You looked over at Julie, who gave you a sympathetic shrug, before sitting down in her own chair.

You wanted to cry as you sat down next to Julie, your oversized t-shirt still on your body. The football boys passed by, smiling and winking at Julie and Lainey, but they seemed to chuckle and shake their heads when they looked at you. You suddenly felt like you were put back into the box you were in freshman year. The box of band geek with braces, the one who couldn’t run for more than 10 minutes before getting winded. The one who had a heart transplant at age twelve and had an ugly scar running down their chest. You wished that your boobs had grown big enough to cover it up, but you weren’t blessed in that department like your friends.

You had given up being noticed by any of the football guys until one sauntered in. His hair was the perfect shade of gold, the sun making it seem like he had a halo around his head. His skin was perfectly sunkissed, and he looked like he didn’t have a single pound of body fat on him. Julie and Lainey seemed to know who he was as they both sat up a bit in their sunchairs, fussing with their hair and pushing their chests out.

Unlike the other guys, this one paid no attention to Julie and Lainey as he walked by, noticing the empty lounger next to you. You held your breath as he set his towel down on the empty lounger. His body was clad in baby pink swim trunks and a white tank top, barely hiding his ripped abdomen. Oh, how you wish that you could have a flat stomach like that. A scarless body like that.

“See something you like, sweetheart?” He asked you, snapping you out of your trance. You hadn’t even realized you were staring at him. Your cheeks instantly flushed at his words as you turned to look back towards the pool. He chuckled as he shucked off his tanktop, and tossed it down on the chair, “I don’t mind, sweetheart. You’re not too bad yourself.”

“Thank you,” You muttered, playing with your fingers and trying to hide the fact that all the blood in your body had rushed to your cheeks. He winked at you, before turning and running towards the pool, doing a flawless dive into the cold water.

“Jesus Christ, Jake Seresin is fucking hot,” Julie swooned as he broke the surface of the water, the droplets running down his chiseled chest. All you could do was nod your head, sparing a glance in his direction as he met up with his football friends. He had a smile on his face that would make girls weak in their knees.

“Yeah. . . I call dibs,” Lainey smirked. She looked over at you, “Y/N, switch me spots.”

“Why?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Because,” Lainey rolled her eyes, “He’s the type who doesn’t want damaged goods. Now switch me.” You did so wordlessly, grabbing your things and moving to where Lainey sat, “You’ll thank me later. I’m saving you from embarrassment.”

You never did go back to the pool with Julie and Lainey again after that day. Hell, you hardly even talked to them for the rest of high school after that day. Maybe Lainey did do you a favor, as she ended up dating Jake Seresin off and on for the last three years of high school. Julie ended up with a football player as well. The final straw for you and your friendship with them was when they tried to pair you up with a football player during your senior year of high school. You knew what his end goal was when you had shown up to the party that night.

All you wanted to do was hang out with your friends before senior year pulled you in different directions. You had somehow been roped into playing seven minutes in heaven, Lainey’s idea. You spun the bottle, your heart hoping that it would land on Jake, but it landed on Toby Mitchell, a total sleazebag.

“C-can I skip?” You asked, your hands shaking.

“Nope!” Lainey shook her head, “Rules are rules.”

“C’mon Lainey,” Jake pleaded, “She doesn’t have to.”

Lainey looked at Jake confused, “And who are you to dictate the game? She spun the bottle, it landed on Toby, she has to go fuck him in the closet.”

“I’ll be gentle, baby girl,” Toby winked at you and you felt nauseous.

“Y/N,” Jake called your name softly, catching your attention, “You seriously don’t have-”

“Yes she does,” Lainey demanded, “You can’t go to college a virgin.”

“Shit! Even better!” Toby hollered, clapping his hands together.

Your face was turning red and you wanted to cry as all eyes were on you. But you were only looking at Jake, his green eyes soft and pleading with you to not go into that closet with Toby. Lainey looked between the two of you, the feeling of jealousy growing in her body. She smirked as she climbed into Jake’s lap, straddling him and planting a sloppy kiss on his lips. The crowd of drunk teenagers around them cheered as Lainey dry-humped Jake in front of everyone. You felt your heartbreak as Jake’s hands wrapped around her.

You knew having a crush on your friend’s boyfriend was stupid, but there was nothing you could do about it.

Except, maybe one thing.

You willed your eyes away from Lainey and Jake to look at Toby. You stood up and stuffed your hands into your back pockets.

“Let’s go,” You mumbled, nodding your head towards the closet that other couples had gone into during the game. Toby scrambled up from his spot, and grabbed your hand, dragging you towards the closet.

“Get it, Toby!” Someone yelled as Jake broke away from his kiss. He looked over to the closet just in time to see it shut behind you.

“Holy shit, she’s doing it,” Lainey laughed and looked over at Julie, “Pay up, bitch.”

But the seven minutes in heaven didn’t even last seven minutes. You hated the way Toby kissed you, too rough and with too much tongue. He pushed you up against the wall forcefully, making your back throb. He didn’t even ask permission before pushing his hand into your pants. You froze as he touched you, his mouth placing disgusting wet kisses on your neck. You tried to bite back the tears that rimmed your eyes as he pushed a finger into you. His other hand pushed up your shirt, roughly grabbing your breast. You had always imagined your first time, and it was nothing like this. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to imagine that you were anywhere else than here when you felt his fingers touch your scar.

“What the fuck?” He mumbled, pulling away from your neck. He pulled his hand out of your pants, and pulled up your shirt, exposing your scar, “What the fuck?” He said again, “The hell is wrong with you?”

“N-Nothing,” You said, “I had surgery when I was a-”

“You’re the chick with the dead person’s heart!” He laughed, “Fuck, Lainey was right, you are a freak.”

“I am not-”

“It’s okay baby girl, I like my girls a bit freaky,” Toby gave you a disgusting smirk as he leaned back in to try and kiss you. Your fight or flight took over as you rammed your knee in between his legs, “Fuck!” He groaned out, cupping himself as he doubled over. You quickly pushed past him and opened the door. All eyes snapped to you as you stood there, wild hair and your pants undone.

“I-”

“This bitch is a freak!” Toby yelled. The whole house erupted in laughter as everyone pointed fingers at you. Tears clouded your vision, as you quickly made your way out the front door. You didn’t even bother to grab your bike, choosing to walk home instead. The words that Toby and Lainey said filled your mind as you cried the whole way home.

— — —

That night almost a decade ago, never left the deep dark parts of your mind. You still remember the feeling of Toby’s hands on your body and the crude words he spoke to you. That whole interaction was enough to push you away from all forms of intimacy. You were now 27, still a virgin, never had a boyfriend, and your first kiss was still Toby Mitchell from that stupid back-to-school party.

After graduation, you decided to get as far as you possibly could from Texas. Your mother cried as you packed up your car. You were their baby, and they had almost lost you once before. Now, seeing you move out, was worse than watching you in a hospital bed. You promised to call them every other day and come home for Thanksgiving and Christmas. You remember watching their figures fade in the distance of your rearview mirror as you hit the road.

The road took you to California, and from there you found North Island. You didn’t know the first thing about living in a military community, but you found a welcoming family in a local bar and its owner. Penny Benjamin all but rescued you from the streets, offering you your first-ever job. She was a bit weary at first, but you proved your worth quickly. In a short amount of time, you became one of her best servers and one of her closest friends. When you weren’t working at the bar, you were babysitting or tutoring Amelia. Penny had helped you move into your first house, and always invited you over for Sunday dinners.

The bar was exceptionally busy on this Friday night. Penny had told you that some new squadron had arrived for a mission. You had come to know quite a bit about the Navy and the Aviators. You could tell an ensign from an admiral just by looking at them.

You were standing with your back to the bar when he came in. His green eyes surveyed the place as he stood in the entryway. Javy had been the one to suggest going to get drinks tonight to celebrate their first night in North Island. His friend clapped him on the back as they made their way to the bar.

“What can I get you?” You heard Penny ask someone as you were restocking glasses.

“Two Budweisars,” The glass in your hand almost slipped out of your grip at the sound of his voice. You turned around and came eye to eye with those beautiful green eyes.

“Jake,” You breathed out.

“Holy shit,” He smiled, “Y/N?” You nodded your head, a small smile crawling on your face, “How long have you been here?” Jake asked, sitting down on a barstool.

“How long have we been out of high school?” You asked with a smile.

“Damn,” Jake flashed you that smile that always made you weak, “Look at you. All grown up and out on your own.”

“I’ve done nothing compared to you Lieutenant Seresin.”

“You flatter me, sweetheart,” Jake winked at you. You couldn’t help the blush that arose on your cheeks.

“Alright, Hangman,” Penny said, coming to graciously save you before you said anything to embarrass yourself, “How about you stop flirting with my best server.”

Jake held his hands up in defense, “I apologize, dear. I’m a sucker for a pretty girl with a pretty smile.”

“Yeah, yeah, shoo,” Penny playfully rolled her eyes and shooed Jake away.

“You wound me,” Jake said as he grabbed his beer and walked back to his friends. You couldn’t help but stare at his perfect ass as he walked away.

Penny looked at you, a knowing smirk on her face as you glanced over your shoulder at her. She wiggled her eyebrows up and down, and you scoffed. You gently whacked her with your bar towel, making the woman laugh as she walked back over to the other side of the bar. You couldn’t help but take a glance to where Jake was at with his friends, and noticed him looking back at you. You bit your lip, trying to hide your smile as you went back to looking down at the bartop.

You had never been happier in your life to call the last call. The bar had been packed and busy all night with new crew members flocking to North Island for this new mission. Friday Nights were always your good nights, but this night left you exhausted. You had finished polishing and putting all the glasses away when you heard the bell above the door jingle.

You groaned, “We’re closed!” You yelled.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” You quickly turned around at the sound of that sweet southern voice. Jake stood there, still in his khakis and with a soft smile on his face, “Came to see if maybe I could get one last drink.”

“We’re clos-”

“A drink won’t hurt,” Penny said, walking out of the kitchen, “After the night you had, you deserve one.”

“Okay, let me just,” You reached for your tips envelope but Penny snatched it, “Penny.”

“On the house,” She smiled, “And if you so much as leave money on the bar, I’ll put it right into your paycheck.” You narrowed your eyes at her as she handed you back your envelope, “Have a good night, kids!” She turned quickly on her heel and walked back the way she had appeared.

You let out a shaky breath and turned back towards Jake, “Budweiser?” He nodded and sat down on a barstool. You poured him his beer and made a vodka lemonade for yourself.

It was truly just supposed to be one drink. But then one drink turned into two, and two turned into three, and three turned into you walking with Jake back to your house. Jake watched as you talked animatedly about going on a sailing trip with Penny where she let you steer for the first time. You had never felt anything like it in your life as you felt the cool, crisp breeze from the saltwater on your skin. You imagined if you could fly, that’s what sailing would feel like.

“This is me,” You slurred a bit, as you pointed to the cute white cottage with a purple-painted door. Jake smiled, noticing the small touch that reminded him of his hometown.

“Just like your parents’” Jake nodded, and pushed open the small front gate, inviting himself to walk up the sidewalk towards the house, “It was always my favorite house on my paper route. Your dog, what was his name, the one that everyone always called a mop.”

“Alfred,” You replied.

“Yeah, Alfred,” Jake smiled, “He’d always come down and take the newspaper from me and run it back to the house.”

“Dad taught him how to go fetch beers out of the fridge in the garage,” You laughed, “He was quite the sight.” A palpable silence fell over the two of you, as you fiddled with your thumbs and looked up at your house. You weren’t quite sure what to do. You had never gotten this far before. But before you could even open your mouth to invite Jake in, he answered the question for you.

“I’m gonna get going, I just wanted to make sure you were home-”

“Come in with me?” You blurt out. Instant red filled your cheeks as you looked anywhere but at Jake. You thought your dumb high-school crush had gone away, but here it was back to slap you in the face, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean-”

“I’d love to,” Jake answered for you. You smiled at him and held your hand out, which he generously took. You led him up the small walkway to your front door. Your parents would kill you if they knew you left your front door unlocked when you weren’t home, but you grew up in a small town, and habits were hard to break.

“This is it,” You said, looking over your shoulder as you walked into the house, “It’s not a lot but it’s-” You were cut off by Jake’s lips on yours, backing you up against the front door.

You hesitated for a second, your brain trying to figure out if this was actually happening or if this was another one of your dreams. Your hands went to his hair, pulling gently on the soft locks that you had dreamed of. He tasted of beer and the mint gum he had been chewing on the whole walk home. His hands found your waist, one going to cup your backside and the other gently pushing up your shirt. It was when his hand touched your bare stomach, that the dream bubble came crashing down.

“No one is gonna wanna make out with the freak who has a dead person’s heart in their chest,”

“The hell is wrong with you?”

“You’re the chick with the dead person’s heart!”

“This bitch is a freak!”

“Stop,” You said as you felt Jake’s lips on your neck, “Stop. Stop! Stop!” You pushed him off of you frantically, as tears clouded your vision. You pushed off of the door and paced into the living room, wiping at the tears on your cheeks. Jake took a couple of steps back, his eyes flashing with a bit of disappointment and then concern, as he looked you over from head to toe. You righted your shirt and took deep breaths trying to stop your pounding heart.

“Are you okay?” Jake asked, keeping his hands splayed out in front of him, “I’m sorry, I thought that. . .I just that you. . . I thought. . .” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair, “I’m not sure what I thought, but I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” You said softly. You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry that I led you on, that was not my-”

“No, no, no,” Jake shook his head, “Do not apologize for something you didn’t do. I was the one who jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry for making this weird and awkward.” He looked at you for a moment, and then hung his head, “I’m just gonna-” He nodded his head towards the door.

“Wait,” You said, reaching out to him. Your heart was still beating fast as you looked into his eyes. Those same green eyes that had watched you walk into the closet ten years ago. Those same green eyes that always looked into yours when he talked to you, and never at the scar that peeked out of the top of your shirt. Those same green eyes that you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

You let go of Jake’s arm and took a step back from him. Your fingers grabbed the hem of your shirt, and you peeled it over your head, leaving you in your bra in the middle of your living room. You let out a shaky breath as Jake’s eyes trailed from yours to the scar in the middle of your chest.

“I know. . .” You swallowed, “It’s ugly.”

Jake took a small step forward, looking at you for permission to get closer. You nodded your head and he took another step, so he was basically chest to chest with you. Ever so slowly, he lifted his hand to the scar, his middle and pointer fingers touching it lightly. You gasped at the feeling of his skin against yours.

“Does it hurt?” He whispered.

You shook your head, “No. It’s just. . . No one has touched me, well except my doctors, but. . . no one has touched me like this.”

Jake nodded again and proceeded with the utmost care as he ran his fingers down the jagged skin.

“When? When did you get this? Jake asked, looking into your eyes.

“I was twelve,” You answered, “My mom calls it the family flaw. Open heart surgery when I was a couple of hours old, and then a transplant at 12. . . I’ve always had this ugly sc-”

“Who said it was ugly?” Jake basically growled.

You gulped, “Everyone. Toby, Lainey-”

Jake scoffed, “They’re wrong. So fucking wrong. This-” He touched your scar again gently, “Is powerful. It shows you’re a fighter. It’s power and beauty.”

You felt tears in your eyes as Jake gently cupped your face. He wiped tears away from your cheeks and placed a soft kiss on where the tears once fell.

“I should’ve told you before,” Jake whispered, running his thumb over the apple of your cheeks, “I wish I was as strong as you to tell you before that you’re beautiful. You’re everything.”

“Jake,” You sighed and melted into his touch, “Take me upstairs.”

You watched as a glint of lust filled Jake’s eyes, as he took your hand and led you to your bedroom.

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