Tumgik
#i think dagger squad is like that
callsign-daydream · 1 year
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Fanboy: Rooster, do you think your favorite animal says anything about you? Rooster: You mean like behind my back?
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i've wanted to practice drawing cowboys for some time now and so the daggers have turned in their helmets and fighter jets for stetsons and horses! yeehawwww
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nulfaga · 10 months
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i LOVE deanna just taking worf's grumpiness in stride. i know there's gonna be some naked time emotional pollen thing going on but i love that she's not the slightest bit fazed. you're pissed off and hangry? ok me too. move over let's eat. (they are pissed off and hangry in companionable togetherness)
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bode-leone · 2 years
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writing my jewish jake au n writing jake saying the mourner's kaddish for his mum every time he goes for a hop in training because they would usually fall in the time slot of the afternoon prayer service..........people wondering what he's mumbling over comms for 11 months and then he just stops and everyones just ?????? and he just acts like everything is normal
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bloodandwhump · 2 years
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"The amount of times I have hurt Rooster in my head" is possibly the most relatable sentence I've heard all week 😅 Why is he so hurtable?! (So happy to hear you're considering doing Whumptober! I can't wait to see more of your art 😍)
The biggest fault the movie has, not enough whump 😔 (Sure Bob and Phoenix were in the hospital BUT WE DONT GET TO SEE IT)
Gotta take matters into my own hands and put those pilots (mainly Rooster cause he is my favourite) in some situations!
(And thank you so much that means alot to me!! ❤️❤️)
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megalony · 27 days
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You Called My Wife?
This is a new Jake Seresin imagine, my first request for Jake and I hope you will all like it. Please let me know what you think.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro
Masterlist
Summary: The Dagger squad don't know much about Jake's personal life. And when he gets hurt during an exercise, they are surprised who comes to look after him.
Enjoy.
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Reaching into his back pocket, Jake pulled out the pair of sunglasses he had been carrying around with him for the last few weeks. The sun here back at home was intense and he couldn't stand the migraines it gave him. Even when he was up in the air, he often had his sunglasses on. He didn't care about the way the glasses pinched his ears or gave him splitting pains in the sides of his neck.
If Bob could wear his prescription glasses to see, then Jake could wear his sunglasses to stop him squinting so much and relieve the headaches he got that were becoming chronic.
His hands fell to his hips once his visors were perched on the bridge of his nose and he looked around.
It hadn't taken Jake nearly as long as he thought to complete his physical. They were doing physical assessments and training every other day to get them ready for their next assignment. They were going to be going against gravity, travelling up to G9 range and it would cause problems with breathing, taking in oxygen and could starve their brains for a few seconds, if not longer.
They all needed to be at their best physically and mentally to prepare for this and up to now, Jake was ready and rearing to go.
Today was training exercises on the ground rather than in the air. They were all doing different activities and now that Jake was rejoining the rest of the squad after his physical, he was supposed to be doing safety and maintenance checks.
He took a look around the open air field. Bradley was over to one side, looking like he was trying to do some physical exercises, but he kept stopping to quietly argue with Maverick who was following him around like a dark, looming shadow. Jake wasn't going to be going over there. He noticed Phoenix and Bob were at their aircraft in the middle of their maintenance. While Coyote was off to one side doing pushups; he had messed up somewhere if that was his punishment. And Jake had already passed Fanboy who was on his way for his own physical.
He busied himself finding one of the clipboards and he jogged over to his aircraft, smiling and patting his hand against the bulk like it was an old friend he was meeting up with.
He circled the aircraft like a vulture, checking the wings, the engines- which had had a run in with a flock of birds two days ago which Jake had been lucky hadn't completely ruined his left engine. He checked the wheels and made sure they were all clipped and chained down so the craft wasn't going anywhere without him.
Once all the outside checks were done, he climbed up the ladder and hopped inside.
It always felt weird to sit in the plane without his proper flight suit or his signature red helmet, but he wasn't going anywhere today. He was only turning the engine on to check everything was working and making sure he got all the right responses to show he would be ready for whatever training exercise he had to go out on next.
He slouched back in the seat, spreading his knees apart with the clipboard in front of him and the pen twisting between his fingers.
After ticking a few boxes, Jake tilted his head back and poised the pen behind his ear while his hand shifted to undo the first button on his uniform. He slid his hand beneath his shirt until his fingers found the familiar silver chain hanging around his neck.
He imbedded the ring into his palm that hung on the end of the chain, always tapping and jostling against his chest whenever he moved.
It felt safer to have his wedding ring on his chain rather than his finger. If he had any accidents and needed to be taken for a scan or for surgery, they would cut his ring off. Rings got in the way, jewellery got in the way and got lost but a chain around his neck was private and secure and more importantly, Jake had that ring as close to his heart as possible.
A soft look crossed his face as he brought his hand to his mouth and kissed the ring that had created a halo indent in the centre of his hand.
"I'll be home soon." He murmured against the ring as a picture of (Y/n) flashed before his eyes.
The last deployment Jake had been on had almost killed him. Three and a half months away from home. Three and a half months where he couldn't see, touch or feel his wife in his arms or have her lips against his or her body pressed up against his own. All he got were a few brief phone calls or five minutes of faceTime every other day, if he wasn't being shipped straight out from dawn until dusk.
He was much happier here where he could spend each night in his own bed, safe in his home with his wife. He didn't have to sleep alone or feel like he was going insane from having absolutely no physical touch or contact with (Y/n). Never before had Jake thought or believed in having withdrawal symptoms for another human being until he got married and had to face the prospect of leaving (Y/n) behind.
When he was done with his checks, Jake heaved himself up to his feet and climbed down back to level ground again.
He waved his clipboard up and down in front of his face like a fan, relishing the slight breeze it created to his melting skin. If he were back home in this heat his shirt would already be off and he would be lounging around in a pair of shorts. Or be would be on the beach in this weather. Either of those thoughts sounded very appealing right now.
He stood still for a few moments, taking in his surroundings and wondering what the next task would be, but his mind kept wandering off to the girl waiting at home for him. Exactly where he wanted to be right now.
"Bob, are you almost done?" Phoenix tilted her head back with an exasperated sigh, one hand clamped around her hip as she the other held onto the ladder Bob was perched on top of.
He was filling up their aircraft with fuel, they had half a tank but it was better to be safe than sorry because they didn't know how long they would be out on their next flight exercise. The last thing they needed was to be marked down and sent to do two hundred push ups because they thought half a tank would be sufficient.
"Almost." His voice was as passive as ever while he swiped his arm across his temple, wiping away the beads of sweat glistening in the afternoon sun.
"Bob, come on we've got other stuff to do."
He didn't know what happened.
One moment Bob was pushing his glasses further up his nose, rolling his eyes at his impatient partner calling up the orders below him. But the next, a shockwave was rattling up the ladder he was perched on and set him off balance.
His hands scrambled to steady himself before he fell off and he subsequently dropped the fuel line that had been in his right hand just as he unclipped it from the air craft that was now fuelled up. Bob scrambled for balance, bashing his legs into the side of the plane and earning a cut down his left forearm that scraped along a jagged edge on the ladder.
But it was the fuel line he was concerned with. It wasn't like filling up a car at the fuel station. The air crafts were large with tanks high up at the back. They had to use large funnel lines that looked like double sized garden hoses with a large round metal clip on the end the size of Bob's hand. That metal created a sizzling sound that sliced through the air when he dropped it.
The line swooped through the air like a bird trying to land but Bob could of cried when he heard a sickening crunch below him. He didn't want to imagine what it collided with- who, it collided with. His eyes snapped closed and he clung to the ladder, trying to gain his balance back so he didn't fall and break an arm or a leg.
The resounding crack echoed around the base and shuddered through everyone within close range. It was a sound no one expected to echo through the open air like that, it travelled far and wide and had everyone coiling in on the spot.
The metal end of the fuel line pelted down, gaining strength and speed as it swung past the ladder, lifted slightly into the air and smacked straight into the right side of Jake's head. Upon impact, his sunglasses snapped and flung off his nose and took flight on a course of their own, six feet across the base.
An awful crack shuddered through Jake's ears and rattled through his head as his eyes automatically snapped closed and his shoulders hunched up. Both arms recoiled into his chest as his clipboard slipped through his fingers that twitched and spasmed, unsure what to do as his body seemed to shutdown and recalibrate all at once.
The force sent his head snapping backwards until his neck got whiplash and his body followed his head's sense of direction, thrusting backwards until he landed harshly on the concrete floor.
Shockwaves rattled through his body causing his legs to shake and spasm out against the floor as if he was kicking and throwing a tantrum and all the air left his lungs when his back hit the floor. It took a few seconds for his diaphragm to loosen and allow his lungs to take in a deep breath, but when he did, a choked moan escaped his lips.
It felt like he'd been shot in the head.
He could feel his pulse throbbing through his temple and circulating all around the circumference of his head like someone pelting round a relay race. He could feel his veins throbbing and the blood steadily trickling down the right side of his face. The feeling of blood oozing down the bridge of his nose and around his eye socket made his nose scrunch up in disgust.
His hands curled and twisted against his chest, desperate to move but the sudden onset of trembling in his bones made it impossible for Jake to coordinate his body properly.
The trembling continued even as Jake suddenly realised he couldn't hear anything around him. He couldn't open his eyes. No sounds broke through the static barrier building up in his ears. He had no control over moving a single part of his body. It felt like his head had been severed from the rest of his body.
"Jesus Bob, what the Hell?!" Bradley spun on his heels and made into a sprint towards the three of them, Maverick hot on his heels.
The sight of Jake, laid out on his back, body overwrought with trembles and blood pooling steadily down one side of his face was a sickening sight none of them ever wanted to witness.
"I wasn't- didn't you see the ladder?" Bob hissed like a snake as he shakily slid down the ladder onto unsteady feet.
His hands began to rake up and down his thighs, wiping the sweat onto his trousers as his glasses started to fall down the bridge of his nose. He hadn't done that on purpose. He didn't just let go of the fuel line; Phoenix bashed into the ladder and knocked him off course. He would have fallen if he didn't scramble for his balance. It could just as easily have been Bob's head split open if he fell the other way or completely lost his footing on the ladder.
"I'm sorry-"
A groan spluttered past Jake's lips and stopped all their ramblings. He managed to curl his fingers around the middle of his shirt and he scrunched it up in his fists as tightly as possible. His legs continued to thrash against the floor but when he tried to open his eyes, he couldn't seem to do it.
"Oh God." He tried his best to reach his hand up towards his head but he could barely lift either arm from trembling against his chest.
Without his glasses that had been broken and flung off somewhere on the base, the sun was beating down on him with unwavering strength. His right eye was blinking furiously to try and stop the blood from getting into his eyes that were rolling to the back of his head that was pounding like a drum.
"Everyone shut up." Maverick's voice snapped through the air like a whip and stopped all their ramblings at once.
He crouched down beside Jake with Bradley on his other side with Bob and Phoenix hovering anxiously in the background and Coyote running over at the sound of commotion.
The wound looked bad. Maverick tilted Jake's head back and tried to touch his hairline to get a proper look. A large slash line went from his hairline towards his eyebrow and the skin had been split apart so neatly it looked like it had been cut with a sharp knife. Blood oozed out in every direction and splattered across Jake's temple and down his nose towards both his eyes like a jam donut had been tossed at his head.
He couldn't see his skull or any bone which was a good sign, but the blunt force could have been enough to crack his skull and give him a fracture. He most definitely had a concussion which meant he could have side effects.
He could start throwing up, he could black out or go fully unconscious, he could have a seizure if the impact was bad enough.
"Get him down to the medbay now." With a click of his hand over to the left, Coyote hurried forward and knelt down behind Jake while Bradley shuffled forward.
The pair of them carefully took one of Jake's arms each and looped them around the back of their necks.
"Alright, up. Let's get you up Hangman." Bradley looped his right arm around Jake's waist while his left hand gripped Jake's wrist. He held his breath and slowly pushed up onto his feet, slowly pulling Jake with him who looked very worse for wear.
Jake's head flopped forward as soon as he was sitting up. He groaned again, spluttering through a moan, spit forming on his lips and blood still trickling down his face. He could feel the shock setting in because even his neck was shaking now and once he was on his feet, his knees wavered and his legs felt oddly heavy and useless. He could barely stay upright and when his knees gave way, he slumped down like he was trying to sit on an imaginary chair.
His hands scrunched down around Coyote and Bradley's shoulders as each of them held his waist and kept him up on his feet.
Both Jake's feet bent awkwardly and the toes of his shoes scraped against the floor as the pair of them dragged him slowly towards the open hanger doors. He tried to move his legs and he did somewhat help them, but he relied on them to drag him along because he felt like collapsing to the floor and curling up into a ball.
He managed to find the will to open his eyes once they were inside, but the sight of the tiled floor disappearing and all the lines blurring before his eyes made his head swoon.
He found his eyes rolling around in his skull before he jolted forward with a croaky "Gonna puke."
True to his word, Jake tossed up his lunch the moment the boys paused in their quick shuffle towards the medbay. He felt a little better after that and he managed to lift his head once the three of them began their awkward tandem walk together.
By the time they were near the medic bay, Jake managed to place one foot in front of the other. He did an awkward walk and started to help them so they didn't have to heave him the whole way there.
"We've had an accident. The fuel line cracked Hangman straight in the temple and knocked him out. He threw up on the way down here." Bradley looked between the two medics idling around and waited for one of them to point towards the bed in the left corner of the large bunker space.
They trotted to the left and turned around, carefully easing Jake down until he was sat in the middle of the bed.
He felt more alive and a bit better once he was sat down. His head flopped back until the base of his head was touching the back of his shoulders and his shaking hands gripped the edge of the bed with intensity to keep himself sitting upright. It took all his effort to stop himself trembling and he tried to take deep breaths to ward off the sickness and the wave of dizziness that overwhelmed him.
"Okay Seresin, let's take a look."
Coyote and Bradley backed up until they were stood to one side. Neither of them fancied going back outside to finish off their exercises when Jake didn't look in his best shape. They would rather wait here to make sure he was alright and then head back to the rest of the team and tell them how he was fairing up. It was clear that Jake would be going home early today, he was lucky not to have been killed with that force, there was no way he was carrying on with any work today after this.
Jake begrudgingly lifted his head when one of the doctors stood in front of him. He let the man hold his chin and tilt his head from side to side to assess the damage and when he shone a pen light across his eyes, Jake winced.
A frightful yelp left his lips when the man tried to touch the wound and he reeled back with a groan.
"Afraid I'm gonna need an X-ray before I can stitch it. I'll clean the wound and get you some painkillers first." They were lucky the wound was on his head as they had a small, portable X-ray scanner in the back room they could use just to double check they didn't have to send him to hospital for urgent treatment. But if it looked okay, he could get some pain relief, be stitched up and sent home for the day.
"Great." Jake winced, trying to form a lopsided smile, but he couldn't quite manage it.
At least he would get to go home earlier than he thought.
***
"Hey," Bob groaned as sweat dripped off his body and onto a small puddle forming on the stone beneath him. His arms trembled as he tried to continue his push ups now that he was well into the hundreds. "Who's that?"
He nudged his nose against his shoulder to push the glasses further up his nose while he indicated his head to the left, signalling Phoenix's attention towards the person advancing across the base.
Maverick had told Bob and Phoenix to finish off Jake's safety checks, prep his fuel tank too and then do a set of two hundred push ups. They both knew they should have been more careful and they shouldn't have started squabbling like children when Jake was hauled off to the medic bay.
Phoenix lifted her head and glanced her eyes around, trying to find out who Bob was referring to. When her eyes set on a woman walking their way, her brows furrowed and she watched where she was walking.
She wasn't in uniform, whoever she was. She had on a baby blue tank top and a pair of denim shorts that stopped just before her knees. Her bag was hung on her shoulder, the strap clutched tightly in her hand and there was a nervous look plastered across her face.
The woman seemed to spare them a glance, noting that they were both sweating through their uniforms, before her eyes set on Maverick and she made a beeline for him.
"Mav, where is he?" (Y/n) bit her lower lip nervously when she reached Maverick who greeted her with a warm smile and a hand on her elbow.
"He's with a doctor, come with me."
(Y/n) nodded and let Maverick lead her inside the base. She couldn't quite believe how high up the ceilings were or how large the bay doors were, it was like everything was amplified as if giants worked and lived here. It felt strange to be walking round here with Maverick when Jake always said he would give her a tour round one day. Plans changed.
She had been expecting much worse when Maverick rang her and said Jake had had a 'minor accident' at the base, but knowing it was nothing to do with a crash or him being in a plane at all made (Y/n) feel better. It stopped her from having a breakdown or a panic attack as she drove down here, but she couldn't fathom what had happened. What kind of accident would her husband have when he was supposed to be safe here on the ground?
She glanced over her shoulder, noticing that the two others who had been doing press ups were now following after her and Maverick, presumably so they could see Jake too. They must be part of his team.
"What happened?"
"Phoenix and Bob, behind you," Maverick tossed a look over his shoulder and pointed his thumb in their direction. "Had a mishap when they fueled their plane. The pipeline dropped and caught Jake in the temple. I think he's got a mild concussion, but he'll be fine."
(Y/n) brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, hearing her shoes clicking loudly against the tiled floor as she followed Maverick around three corners and down a long corridor until they were in front of a medical wing.
That didn't sound too bad. That wasn't nearly as bad as she had been expecting, but it still wasn't good.
Her husband shouldn't be getting into accidents like this at work. He shouldn't be getting smashed in the head with their equipment. He was a pilot, an aviator. He was training every day to be in top physical performance and here he was with a concussion because his team had clearly lacked concentration.
It took all the effort (Y/n) had not to run ahead once they walked into a large open unit almost the same size as the open field outside. There was only one patient in here and (Y/n) set her sights on him immediately.
Jake was sat on the side of a bed, his legs swinging back and forth like a child at a doctor's appointment. His hands were clutching either side of the bed, his lips were set in a firm line and he kept squinting and closing his eyes as a doctor was stood in front of him, cleaning his wound.
Once they were close enough, (Y/n) hurried past Maverick and dropped her bag down by the foot of the bed. She didn't want to get in the way when the doctor was clearly trying to assess Jake and sort him out, but the moment Jake glanced to the left, his eyes widened and he jerked out of the doctor's grip.
"Baby." The surprise was evident in his voice and he let go of the bed to reach an arm out in (Y/n)'s direction. As soon as he started curling his fingers in a grabbing motion, (Y/n) smiled and moved forward.
Jake immediately coiled his arm around (Y/n)'s waist and reeled her closer until she had to plant her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. His fingers squeezed her hip tightly and he kissed the top of her chest before he glanced over her shoulder towards Maverick.
"You called my wife?"
The shock was evident in Jake's voice, but it was the looks of the rest of the team that made him wince. He hadn't mentioned to any of them that he happened to be married, that knowledge was on a need to know basis and as his superior, Maverick was the only one who needed to know. For emergency situations like this if Jake ever got hurt or shot down or sent to hospital.
There was no way they could let him drive home and since he had been injured, Maverick knew it was best to call (Y/n) and let her know so she could come and pick him up.
"You got concussed and you won't be able to drive home. Yes, I called your missus. You're welcome."
Maverick placed his hand on his hip and tilted his head to one side. Once Jake was silenced with that one look, Maverick nodded to himself and turned to leave. He knew none of them would be doing any more exercises today and he was okay with that, they would call it a day and start again tomorrow.
"You're married?"
"You never mentioned you're married to such a stunning girl."
(Y/n) tilted her head to the right, figuring the man that said that must be Bradley, the one Jake said was close to Maverick. He had a raised brow and his lips quirked into a smile beneath his moustache while both arms folded tightly over his chest.
She could feel the glares Jake was sending towards Bradley, squinting and glaring over in his direction before he looked back up at his wife.
With a quiet groan, Jake moved his hands from (Y/n)'s hips so he could bind his arms tightly around her waist. His hands feathered up and down her back and he pushed forward until his lips attached to her exposed chest just beneath her collar bone.
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"Why did you need to know?" He countered, smirking tiredly against (Y/n)'s chest and he twisted his head so the left side of his face could press down against her skin. His cheek nuzled into her chest and he looked over at the team, watching the blush that rose to Bob's face that tilted down to look at his shoes and the way Phoenix rubbed the back of her neck bashfully.
He hadn't told them because it wasn't their business, they didn't need to know. He was in love, he was head over heels in love with his wife and in Jake's eyes, she was his little secret.
He didn't want the team teasing him or asking about her or trying to make jokes that he was tied down. He had dealt with that in the past with other people he worked with and he didn't like it. He smiled when people flirted with him in bars, but he kindly turned every one of them down and didn't let them get too close. (Y/n) was the reason why.
Sometimes it felt safer to keep (Y/n) as his little secret. What they did was dangerous, they had all lost friends in this job and it was hard to bring friends and family into this life. Jake didn't know if introducing (Y/n) to his team would be too much.
For him, it felt better to keep work and home life separate.
With a sigh, Jake lifted his cheek from (Y/n)'s chest, his lips forming a thin line as he stared up at her despite the headache that was swirling around behind his eyes. He scanned his eyes around the team who were all watching on eagerly like this was their favourite tv soap.
"Darlin', this is the dagger squad," Jake waved his hand around, muttering their call signs to which (Y/n) nodded earnestly. "Guys, this is my wife, (Y/n)."
"Nice to meet you all, even under strange circumstances," (Y/n) quirked a brow when Bob tipped his head down with his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Clearly he felt guilty for the accident and (Y/n) was sure she heard him mutter a soft 'sorry again' clearly directed towards Jake.
He wasn't going to hold a grudge. It had been an accident and a few stitches was much better than some of the injuries he'd gotten on this job. But he would be holding this over them in the future and he knew he had earned himself a few free beers down at the Hard Deck for this.
"How bad is it then?"
Jake felt shockwaves coursing through his blood when (Y/n)'s hands moved from his shoulders to gently cup his face in her hands.
He loved the feeling of her thumbs brushing across his cheekbones just beneath his eyes and the way her fingertips tapped behind the tip of his jaw near his ears. His lips curved into a smile, despite the aching in his temple that had gone down a little when he took the aspirin and painkillers he was given.
His eyes squinted up at his wife whose lips curved into a pouting smile while her head tilted to the side, inspecting the wound on his temple.
All the blood had been cleaned from Jake's face and neck and his head had been X-rayed and dabbed with anticeptic, all he needed now was stitches.
"What am I gonna do with you?" (Y/n) murmured softly while she tilted Jake's head down in her hands so she could pepper kisses against the middle of his temple which no doubt would be aching. She didn't want to touch or go too near the wound, she knew even a light touch was going to hurt and she didn't want to hurt him. But he leaned into her touch and groaned, tightening his arms around her waist while his hands slid further down her back.
"I can think of a few things."
"I don't think I wanna see that." Coyote ran a hand down his face and patted Bradley's chest before he began to walk. He would see what Maverick wanted them to do, whether they were all getting the afternoon off or just Jake. He murmured a soft "Nice to meet you, Mrs Seresin." And laid a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder as he passed her.
"Yeah, us neither. Sorry again, Hangman, we'll owe you a few rounds when your back in action." Phoenix waved her hand towards Jake and dipped her head before she headed out with Bob following in her wake.
He uttered a soft "Nice to see you, sorry Hangman." before he followed Phoenix, silently praying they wouldn't have to finish the last twenty six push ups they had skipped when they followed Maverick and (Y/n) down here to the medic bay.
"Well, you look like your in good hands, so I'll catch up with you later. Maybe we'll see you soon, Mrs Hangman."
Once Bradley disappeared, (Y/n) managed to untangle herself from her husband's arms, causing him to grunt and pout dramatically. His hands reached out for her but she didn't move far. She stepped out from between his legs and moved to stand on his left side near the end of the bed he was perched on. Her arm looped around his back and her hand gave his shoulder a squeeze while she kissed the good side of his temple.
"When can I take him home?"
"I'll just do the stitches and then he's all yours."
Jake couldn't hide the grimace that flooded his face when he saw the needle and thread. He didn't like the inconvenience of stitches. His eyes briefly glanced up at (Y/n) before he shimmied round on the seat so his back was towards her. And he slowly reclined his head until the back of his head was settled down on (Y/n)'s shoulder.
He did his best to keep his head steady and his eyes fell closed when he saw an injection needle coming close. The numbing agent to make the stitches more bearable.
A low whistle passed his lips and when (Y/n)'s free hand curled over his thigh, Jake reached down and curled his hand over hers. He squeezed tight and tried to take slow, deep breaths when the needle finally started puncturing through his skin. It didn't exactly hurt, but he felt a sharp sting and each time the thread was pulled tight, Jake could feel his brow lifting as the skin was dragged back together.
Six stitches later and (Y/n) could barely feel her hand from how tightly Jake was squeezing it. She leaned her head down and kissed the top of his head, nudging her nose against his soft wavy hair as Jake finally opened his eyes.
"You're good to go with a mild concussion, Seresin. No flying for twenty-four hours, and if you go any higher than G7, I'll need to see you back here for a check over."
"Copy that."
"Thank you for patching him up."
When Jake hopped up from the bed, (Y/n) moved her arm lower to secure around his waist and she pressed a quick kiss to the side of his jaw which caused his lips to pull into a wide grin. He draped his arm over her shoulders, feeling much better than he did earlier.
The last thing he wanted to do was lean on (Y/n) and have her dragging him out of here like the guys had heaved him in earlier. He could walk on his own two feet again.
"That's going to leave a scar." (Y/n) murmured softly, reaching her left hand up to graze her fingers over his brow just beneath the row of navy blue stitches on his temple. It wasn't going to leave a dent or a prominent, deep line, but it would leave a faint streak of white like a dash of paint across his skin.
She pressed another kiss to Jake's jaw until he tilted his head down and captured her lips in a soft, burning kiss instead. "I know," He muttered softly against her lips, kissing her again and again as they walked as slow as possible out of the base.
"But I know you love my war wounds."
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alice-everafter · 2 months
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"Were you aware that you talk in your sleep?"
Through the haze of tiredness, Vil's voice rings clear, as it so often does. It takes a few too many blinks to will the grogginess away. But when it does, you turn on your side towards him. He's in a position mirroring your own, his form highlighted by the early morning rays of sunlight leaking in through the window behind him. Swathed in blankets that have clearly seen better days, as was typical of Ramshackle grade furnishing.
"...Good morning to you too, Vil."
He doesn't reply with any words, merely a hum of acknowledgement.
It's unfair how perfect he can look so soon after waking. Cause you know for a fact your hair is in tangles under your head. Makes you feel like a true potato, as he so calls you.
You're reminded of the circumstances behind this current arrangement as he eyes your drowsy self calmly. Turns out, even after renovations, Ramshackle is still ramshackle. It only took one flop onto your bed for the legs holding up the bedframe to give out entirely. The sound had attracted the whole VDC squad, so they got to bare witness to probably one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. Well, Ace made certain that it was, at least.
Originally content to sleep on a slightly shorter than usual bed, Vil had been quite adamant on not letting you. Something about bugs and possibilities of them infesting the mattress. It didn't really matter to you, but somehow you found yourself in his room. Rather, one of your guest rooms. And that was where you still were, letting him eye you down like a product on display.
"...Something on my face?"
"Yes, drool."
Nice to know that Vil's charm was present every hour of the day.
"...What was this about me talking in my sleep?" You try to nonchalantly swipe a hand over your mouth, but it fails spectacularly. Nothing gets past this man.
"You mumble all sorts of nonsense." He looks like a Renaissance painting as he brushes a stray lock from his eyes, tucking it elegantly behind his ear. "I nearly thought you were awake at first, talking to yourself."
"Yes, cause that's totally what one does first thing in the morning. Talk to themself."
The sleepiness has clearly made you overly confident. If the glare he levels you is anything to go by.
"Notice how I said 'nearly.' Meaning I didn't actually think you were. Does the morning dim your wit more than normal?"
"...For someone so insistent on getting me in their bed, you're rather snappy."
"Why I never." That comment gets him riled enough to sit up. You feel tiny as he stares daggers down at you where you continue to lie. In your puddle of disarray, while he's somehow runway ready at the ass crack of dawn.
"How can you look like a Greek god first thing in the morning?" Oh, so you've decided to voice your thoughts out loud. Ok, cool, that's totally what you wanted to do. Totally.
You watch as his anger morphs into confusion. "Greek god?"
"Oh," that's right. That's a 'your world' thing, isn't it. "A reference from back home, don't worry about it."
"Hmph," he grunts. Well, you'd hardly call it a grunt. Vil wouldn't do something as barbaric as grunt. It was more like a delicate, posh scoff. But, he no longer looks as mad as he did before, so you guess it was a good thing you decided to voice your inner musings aloud. "Does this 'Greek god' happen to have flawless skin, gorgeous hair, and impeccable taste?"
You don't want to answer him, cause you know where this is going. But, again, nothing escapes the notice of this man. You're forced to watch his lips curl up into an infuriatingly hot smug grin.
"From your face, I assume so. It's kind of you to notice the obvious."
You're very well awake by now, but you still roll your eyes. You may lowkey highkey fear this man, but nothing could've held that reaction back.
"Yeah, well, they're also incredibly abnormal. Cause the rest of the population doesn't typically wake up looking like a supermodel."
"If you think I'm a supermodel now, then you must think I'm ethereal on a day to day."
You do nothing but grumble as you shuffle to sit up, rubbing leftover sleep from your eyes while pointedly ignoring how he practically preens next to you. When you instinctually card a hand through your hair, instead of it catching on knots like you expect, it goes right through.
"It's the pillow case."
Again, the bastard reads your expression like a book and promptly comments on it.
"Satin is good for both the skin and the hair."
You're tempted to call him extra, cause who brings their own pillow case to someone else's house? But the way your hair feels, how it's free from a majority of its typical morning tangles, shuts you up.
You chance a glance up at him. Head turned towards you, knees bent below the covers, an elbow rested over top, chin held primly in the palm of his hand, still haloed by the rising sun like it’s a paid actor. With an elegant quirk to his brow and an expression equal parts amused and sickly fond.
There is... something running laps in your chest. Begging to be acknowledged. To be known.
"...If you're fishing for another compliment, you'll find that I've reached my daily quota."
You swing your legs over the side of the bed as you hear him click his tongue. And no, it's not running away, but it sort of feels like it is.
"I'll go and make myself presentable before starting on breakfast. You said we needed more protein, right? I was thinking I could make omelets━"
"A shame, really."
You have no clue how he moved so silently, but he was suddenly next to you and unapologetically in your space. Brushing hair behind your ear like he was born to do it. Walking the small distance around to your front so you could see the pleased smile upon his lips and knowing twinkle in his eyes.
Damn him, you can't help but internally curse as goosebumps form where his fingers had barely even grazed. Nothing gets past him, and especially not you.
"I was so hoping for a few more compliments, because I certainly haven't reached my needed quota."
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ddejavvu · 5 months
Note
MEI i have severe top gun maverick brain rot and all i can think about is reader being the admirals daughter and everyone assumes rooster or hangman is gonna go after her but it turns out she’s been hooking up with bob for AGES and they’re all like ??? how did you do that???? bob gets kinda flustered but readers just like idk he was really nice and he’s really good in bed
"Check it out," Phoenix elbows Bob where the man is engrossed in reading the back of the bar napkins Penny had handed them so that they didn't stain her tables again, "There's Mav's daughter. 'Think she's got that Hawaiian shirt on to seduce Rooster?"
Bob's eyes dart to where you're chatting with Penny, his shoulders stiffening as his friends turn to watch you.
"Nah, Rooster doesn't like orange. But those cowboy boots she's got on are probably for Hangman- didn't he say he'd teach her how to square dance?"
Penny reaches over the bar to tug affectionately at one of your braids and Bob tries to no avail to break the conversation.
"Actually, she's-"
"I'd say she was here to meet Fanboy, but she doesn't date losers," Phoenix's eyes are narrowed dangerously, and she hides a smirk against the rim of her bottle.
"Hey! Hangman's a bigger loser than I am!" He protests, but before the taller man can trap him in a headlock, Penny points towards the dagger squad where they're lounged in a corner of the bar, and your eyes shine as you rush over.
"Bob!" You shriek, throwing your arms around his neck and letting your legs bend when he hoists you off of the ground for a hearty hug. His muscles are well hidden beneath his regulation khakis, but he's built for much heavier loads than you, and he lets you hover a few inches off of the ground while he hugs you.
Your face is buried in his neck but you press a kiss against his cheek, catching the bewildered blinking of the rest of his squadron over his shoulder.
"Oh. I forgot you didn't know." You supply, your feet back on the ground as Bob keeps one arm slung loosely around your waist, "Sorry, we- uh, we've been hooking up for a while, it's just... I haven't seen him since you guys got shipped out."
"You've been hooking up with her?" Coyote stares down his nose at Bob who shifts subtly closer to you, nodding once, stiffly in the face of his teammate's scrutiny.
"Damn. And he was good enough in bed to keep you waiting 'til he got back?"
Bob flushes - you feel his skin warm where it's pressed against your own, and you fill the awkward silence.
"Oh, please. I'm sure you've seen it in the locker room; I'd wait a lifetime."
Bob scoffs over your shoulder, now even more flustered, but Phoenix is happy to save the situation.
"Does your dad know?" She tilts her chin towards you, remembering how viscerally uncomfortable their Captain had been whenever someone had suggested you get together with one of his aviators.
"Of course he knows," You laugh, "He's the one that set us up! 'Said Bob had to get his hands on me before Texas over there tried to Hold 'Em."
Bob wraps an arm protectively over your chest, leaning over your shoulder from behind to return a kiss against your own cheek.
Hangman whistles lowly, shaking his head with a dazed look, "Well, shit. I didn't know the offer to hold 'em was on the table, but-shit!"
Bob's face darkens but Rooster levels the toe of his boot with Hangman's lower thigh, striking him at the back of the knee and subsequently spilling beer over his khakis. Hangman grunts as his knees knock against the beer-sticky floor, but he seems to know he deserved what he'd gotten because he doesn't retaliate.
"We'll wrangle him." Rooster promises, "You two go have fun, Bob you gotta quarter for the jukebox?"
"Yes'sir," Bob nods, tugging you towards a lesser populated area- perfect for slow dancing even if the bar isn't, "Let's make up for lost time, honey."
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writingdumpster · 1 year
Text
secret wife
pairing: Bob Floyd x fem!reader
warnings: none, all fluff
summary: When you go to pick up Bob at the base the dagger squad finds out that Bob's been keeping a wife from them.
word count: 1k
A/N: Thanks for 3k followers!
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Bob pulled his phone out of his locker as the guys all piled into the locker room behind him. There was a text from you awaiting Bob. 
I’m waiting in the lobby for you. Don’t take too long. xoxo
“Did you guys see the hot girl in the lobby?” Coyote asked as he walked into the locker room. Bob smirked to himself as he started to take off his flight suit. 
“Who do you think she is?” Fanboy pondered. 
“I was gonna find out after we got changed,” Rooster said. 
“Don’t bother. Bet she’s a recruit’s girlfriend,” Payback suggested. 
“Who do you think?” Asked Hangman. 
“I don’t know,” Payback responded. “But I know what a woman in love looks like.”
“I don’t believe that,” Hangman teased Payback. 
“I’m married,” Payback pointed out. 
“So you tell us, but we’ve never seen your wife,” Rooster taunted. 
“Her picture is on my dash,” Payback said. 
“Could be anyone,” Fanboy joined in. 
“You’ve met her, Fanboy,” Payback said. 
“You can’t prove anything,” Fanboy teased. Bob was quietly enjoying the conversation as he grabbed the rest of his things. He slipped his bag over his shoulders and closed his locker. 
“See y’all tomorrow,” Bob said as he headed out to meet you in the lobby. When he rounded the corner his smile widened as you stood to greet him. You were wearing paint stained jeans and an old t-shirt that used to be Bob’s, but it had been years since that was true. It was yours now, just like he was. 
“You changed out of the flight suit,” you said forlornly when Bob walked up. 
“It was all sweaty, angel,” Bob told you.
“I wanted to take it off you though,” you whined. Bob gave you a cheeky grin. 
“You want me to put on the white uniform when I get home?” Bob offered. He leaned down and kissed you tenderly before you could answer. 
“The hot girl is your girlfriend?” Hangman practically shouted from behind Bob. He turned over his shoulder to see the whole squad watching the two of you. 
“Wife, actually,” Bob said. “Been meaning to introduce ya.” 
“You didn’t say you have a wife!” Phoenix exclaimed. 
“Didn’t come up,” Bob said. “We’ve only known each other for a month.” Everyone gawked at Bob, thinking a month was plenty of time to let your friends know you have a wife. 
“He likes to keep me protected from his work,” you piped in when Bob failed to explain himself. Bob wound his fingers between yours. He lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. 
“What’s your name?” Phoenix asked. 
“Y/N,” you told her. 
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Phoenix murmured. You could hear in her voice that she felt betrayed by Bob. You knew he wouldn’t notice though. You wanted to stop him from hurting her more.
“I keep my ring on my dog tags,” Bob said, pulling them up from his shirt to prove it. 
“I thought it was your dad’s,” Phoenix told him. “You always talk about him.” 
“Bobby’s told me a lot about you,” you interjected. “I was hoping you would have dinner with us. I’d like to make the pilot who saved my Bobby a good meal.” Phoenix met your eye and you gave her a warm smile. She gave a tiny nod and smiled back. 
“I’d love to, ma’am,” Phoenix said. 
“I’m her wingman,” Rooster called. “Could say that I kept Bobby safe too.” Bob blushed brightly. 
“Payback and I were on the mission,” Fanboy said.
“I saved Bob’s wingman,” Hangman added. You looked up at Bob in question. 
“They know you’re the one who makes my lunches now,” Bob said. You giggled. You always made Bob his lunches. When he was deployed he didn’t get good home cooked meals, so you made sure he had them three times a day when he was home with you. 
“Well, some of you might have to sit on the couch, but I’d be happy to cook for my husband’s friends,” you said.  
“I can’t believe that baby on board has a wife and you don’t even have a girlfriend,” Hangman teased Rooster. 
“You don’t either,” Rooster spit back. 
“No woman can hold me down,” Hangman joked. 
“He’s the one your sister would like, right?” You asked, trying to keep your voice quiet. 
“You’ve got a sister?” Hangman called out. 
“Yeah,” Bob said. “And I’m quite sure she could hold you down if she wanted.” Hangman’s eyes widened. You chuckled. 
“You’re going to set him up with your sister?” Rooster complained. 
“That’s y/n’s scheme. She wants my sister to live near us,” Bob explained. 
“She’s funnier than you, Bobby,” you said. 
“You do spend a lot of time laughing at me together,” Bob teased. He didn’t really mind though. Everytime he had come home to find you and his sister in tears from laughing so hard it had made him even more sure that he’d chosen the right person to marry. 
“Well, when do I get to meet her?” Hangman asked, a wide smirk on his face. 
“I’ll have her come over for dinner with all of you,” you said. “Next Sunday at 6:00. Don’t be late,” you told them. Then you tugged on Bob’s hand, signaling you wanted to go home. 
“Bye, guys,” Bob said. “See ya in the morning.” With that he slung his arm around your shoulders and led you out of the base. 
“I can’t believe Bob didn’t tell us he has a wife,” Payback muttered. 
“I can’t believe Hangman’s the first choice for his sister,” Fanboy said. 
“Why not? You think Bob wants to be related to any of you?” Hangman asked proudly. Rooster snorted. 
“Yes. I would have thought he’d want any of us before you.”  
A/N: There is a part two of the dinner now available
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lulunothulu · 17 days
Text
“Migraine Induced”
Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader
Summary: You have a migraine and Jake’s the one who caused and clocked it.
Content: good ole Hangman charm, migraines, FLUFF
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Your call-sign: Sparrow (yes I know it’s been used before but not the same universe lol)
“Sparrow!”
You wince at Hangman’s loud and obnoxious voice. You’d had a migraine for the past few hours and his loud, southern drawl wasn’t helping.
“Sparrow!” He calls again. You pinch the bridge of your nose before turning around.
“What?” You ask harshly.
“You joinin’ us tonight?” He asks, winking at you.
As much as you’d like to react to him winking at you (and god did you want to) you furrow your brows, placing pressure on your right eye before shaking your head. “I’m sorry, where?”
“Hard Deck,” Rooster says, walking toward the two of you. “We asked you about it yesterday?”
Oh fuck.
“Yeah,” you start, “I think imma have to sit this one out.”
“C’Mon,” Phoenix joins in, playfully elbowing you. “Don’t leave me here with all these boys.”
“We’re men,” Coyote corrects.
“Whatever,” Phoenix laughs. She turns to you, expectantly waiting for your response.
“Um,” you start, squeezing your eyes shut to then open them again. “Sure.”
———
Later after work, you and Phoenix are playing pool and about a beer or two into drinking. You thought it would help but of course…it didn’t. Your migraine still hadn’t passed and you were starting to squint, trying to keep the light out. So you asked Bob to get you a water, thinking that would help.
Of course the one day you need an ibuprofen, you leave it at home.
“You okay?” Bob asks from the stool he frequents.
“Never better Bobby boy.” You flash him a tight smile before groaning when Hangman approaches you and Phoenix.
“Ladies,” he says loudly. If the music in the bar was loud, Hangman made sure to be louder. “What’re we drinking?”
“I’m having beer, Sparrow’s drinking water,” Phoenix tells him.
Hangman turns his gaze to you, green eyes full of something you hadn’t seen before. Was that worry? And why did that do something to you?
“Is that so?” He asks, flashing you his famous cocky smile and shedding whatever possessed him before.
“Yeah, I’m not really in the mood to drink,” you tell him.
“Let’s change that.” Before you can begin to resist, Hangman turned to the rest of the Dagger Squad before yelling, “Let’s play a little game called ‘List Five Things’.”
Around you, Rooster, Hangman, Phoenix, and Coyote gather around in a circle. Bob, Payback, and Fanboy decided to sit this game out and are acting as the judges.
You knew the game well—list five things for whatever someone chooses. The twist to it is you have to remember what the person before you said that way, you can not only repeat what they had said—but also add on. If you end up forgetting, you have to take a shot.
“Coyote,” Hangman calls. “Start us off.”
“List five things a woman would say to you on a first date,” Coyote smiles.
“You’re handsome,” Hangman smirks across from you, winking in your direction.
“You’re handsome, you look nice,” Rooster adds.
“You’re handsome, you look nice, you have a pretty smile,” Phoenix adds.
“You’re handsome, you look nice, you have a pretty smile, yoi have something in your teeth,” you add, a fake smile directed toward Hangman.
“You’re handsome, you look nice, you have a pretty smile, you have something in your teeth, and your dance moves are killer,” Coyote ends it. 
This goes on for a while, only you and Jake drinking five shots compared to everyone else’s seven to eight. You were all pretty plastered and you knew your migraine would be ten times worse tomorrow.
“Sparrow, my dear,” Hangman smiles, taking a swig of his beer. “You’re up.”
“Name five things you can say in bed,” you randomly blurt.
“That’s tight,” Coyote laughs.
“Thats tight, where are my clothes?” Hangman smiles.
“That’s tight, where’s my clothes?, can I taste?” Rooster adds, wiggling his brows at Coyote making him howl in a laugh while simultaneously making you flinch at the loudness.
Across from you, Hangman’s brows furrow.
“That’s tight, where’s my clothes?, can I taste?…”Phoenix thinks before shouting very loudly in your ear, “GOT PROTECTION?!”
“Fuck!” You yell, grabbing your right eye and shutting both in pain.
“You lose, Y/N!” Everyone yells.
Well, everyone but Hangman.
No, he’s watching you with the same worried expression on his face. But instead of hiding it like he did before, he makes a point to walk up to you and tilt you head back for you look up at him.
“Let’s go outside,” he tells you.
“I’m fine,” you start.
“Now.”
You obey, hearing the others whoop and whistle behind you. You allow him to walk you out to the beach before sitting you down in the warm sand.
“What’s going on? You’ve been a lot more irritable today and that says a lot because normally loud noises wouldn’t bother you.” He’s squatting before you, practically begging you to rip his vocal cords out by how loud he’s talking.
“Just for once, can you please talk quieter?” You scold. “It’s bad enough you’re already loud, just…dial it down.”
He silently watches you, at least you assume because you’ve already closed your eyes again. Even though you’re fairly far away from the bar, you can still feel the pulsing in your eye every time someone inside yells.
“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “Sometimes I get over-excited and can’t help myself.”
To say you’re surprised is an understatement. Hangman had never apologized to you or anyone for anything. Not even when he almost got into a fight with Rooster that one time. Or that other time he ran into you as you ran during PT.
You squint to look at him. He’s breathtaking. The moonlight lights his handsome face and makes his green eyes look almost aquamarine. His golden skin practically glows, his hair along with it.
You were caught off guard by those thoughts. Why are feelings suddenly manifesting for him? And why do you like how it feels deep in your stomach?
“Are you seriously apologizing?” You ask.
“Don’t get used to it, sweetheart.” He smiles down at you before grunting and joining you in the sand.
You sit in comfortable silence, taking in the crashing of the waves ahead and the beautiful night sky.
“I have a migraine,” you finally tell him. Looking up at the barely starred sky. “I’ve had one since,” you look at your watch and it reads 2:35 AM. “4:15 PM yesterday.”
“That’s why you didn’t want to drink,” he states. “You didn’t want to have to nurse that and a hangover.”
“Yup,” you say, lips popping on the ‘p’.
“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he tells you.
You snort. “How?”
“Let’s go for a dip,” he smiles.
“Now how the hell is that gonna help?” You frown. “I’m not skinny dipping with you.”
“As much as I know you’d love that, no. The water’s cool.”
“Okay?” You reply, still frowning and ignoring the comment.
“The cool water to your feet will help minimize the pain in that thick ass head of yours,” he says, standing and offering you his hands.
“I do not have a thick head,” you mutter, taking his rough hands. “That’s all you, Bagman.”
“I’m just here helping you out of the goodness of my heart and you want to insult me?”
He doesn’t let go of your hand after you both remove your shoes.
In fact, he holds it even when you both start splashing in the water and again when you decide to walk down the beach, shoes in his other hand.
He stops you in your tracks when you both return to Hard Deck. You’re standing on the back deck of the bar and looking in on your colleagues and friends laughing up a storm.
“What?” You ask, a small smile creeping on your lips.
“Did the water help?” He asks, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.
You smile up at him, you never realized how much taller he was than you. Maybe a head taller? And god, he smelled so good.
“Yes, it helped a lot actually,” you tell him. “Thank you, Jake.”
“I like how your voice sounds with my name on your lips ,” he flirts.
“Are you flirting with me Seresin?” You grin.
“God, even my last band sounds good,” he rolls his eyes in pleasure.
You laugh, going on your tiptoes and kissing his cheek. “Fuck off, Bagman.”
You make to turn away but he catches your wrist and spins you around so fast, you feel like falling. Only, he catches you before planting his lips on yours.
It’s like a scene from a cheesy rom-com you and Phoenix watch. You used to think it was funny but now actually living it? You loved it.
Jake pulls away, panting before giving you the biggest smile. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”
“Have you?” You ask.
He nods. Then, pulling you up and in his arms, he asks, “So did this help ease the migraine aftermath?”
You smile, reaching up to pull him in for another kiss.
“Definitely. But I think a date would settle it once and for all.”
Before he even has time to answer, you’re pushing him away softly and swaying your hips to walk into the bar.
“Fuck, I think I’m in love,” he mutters to himself.
I kinda wanna write a part two…. Their date maybe and her realizing she really likes him? Let me know 💗💗
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onehoplessromantic · 1 month
Text
Masterlist | Glen Powell
Jake “Hangman” Seresin - Tyler Owens
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Updated: 8/20/2024 (chase your fears; worth your while)
!!authors!! if you want ur work removed please pm me
I’m back again with another one!!! It’s definitely not as lengthy as my other lists (yet) but I’m hoping to find some more for all three. I also figured I’d get a stake in this territory as the Glen Powell fanclub grows post-twisters. I hope y’all find what you’re looking for!
peace 💕
join the taglist here
fluff-> 🤍 | smut -> 🍋 | angst -> 🌧️ | major tw -> ‼️
Jake “Hangman” Seresin
𐚁 BROTHERS BEST FRIEND | @tongue-like-a-razor
12 parts | ongoing | 🤍🌧️🍋
Jake Seresin x Bradshaw!Reader
The trials and tribulations of falling for your brothers best friend.
𐚁 BRUISES | @ohtobeleah
8 parts | complete | 🌧️‼️
Jake Seresin x WSO!Reader
After a mission goes south, Jake finds himself captured by insurgents that show no remorse. But whats worse than knowing he failed his mission? Knowing that the Weapons Systems Officer who trusted him to bring her home safe was in the same cell as him. Collecting bruises that match his own.
themes of heavy violence, sexual assault, torture, 18+ content, minors dni, mature themes, being held in captivity, hostage style situations, main character death! whump, angst, conversations that discuss antisocial and antisemetic views
𐚁 ROCKS ARE ALLOWED TO CRACK, STARS ARE ALLOWED TO DIM | @sarahsmi13s
oneshot | wc: ~8.0k | 🌧️
jake ‘hangman’ seresin x fem!pilot!reader
everyone deserves someone to comfort them in their time of need, even the ones that always lend their shoulder.
angst, language, ptsd, description of accident, panic attack, injuries, descriptions of scars, flashbacks, fear of death, familial death (mentioned), crying, bottling up feelings
𐚁 THE WALLS ARE CAVING IN | @desert-fern
oneshot | wc: 5.5k | 🌧️🤍
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!Reader (known as honey bee/honey)
You are sunshine incarnate, the life of the party who is so free with your affection. Jake finds himself struggling to express his desire to be like you while wrestling with his past, what happens when it all comes crashing down around him? AKA Jake is both touch-starved and in love.
jake has a shit dad, angst, still fluffy tho
𐚁 THE BEANERY | @callsign-peach
oneshot | wc: ?? | 🤍
established hangman x female!reader
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.
tooth-rotting fluff
Tyler Owens
𐚁 LIKE MOTHER LIKE FATHER LIKE DAUGHTER | @wisdomssdaughterr
oneshot | wc: 3.7k | 🌧️🤍
tyler owens x harding!reader
you had made a name for yourself in the storm chasing game; it was in your genes, being the daughter of the famous chasers jo and bill harding. tyler found your knack for knowing just what the storms thinking, a little infuriating and incredibly impressive
fem!reader, reader gets injured, mentions of blood and injuries, probably inaccurate meteorological info and medical info, angst, fluff, some hurt/comfort
𐚁 CHASE YOUR FEARS | @briefinquiries
oneshot | wc: 11k | 🤍🌧️
tyler owens x f!reader
you and your younger brother are road-tripping across the US when you encounter a tornado. Luckily, the tornado wrangler himself shows up to help.
tornados, fear, flufffff
𐚁 WORTH YOUR WHILE | @wisdomssdaughterr
oneshot | wc: 2.9k | 🤍🌧️
tyler owens x fem!reader
As the local weather woman, you shared an interesting rivalry with your hometown storm-chaser. While you always reported on the dangerous weather from a safe distance, Tyler barreled into it head-first. But things change in the night of the county fair when you find yourself in the middle of a storm rather than the safety of a newsroom.
dramatic fluff, hurt/comfort, description of tornadoes, language, description of injury, slightly inaccurate meteorological info
Glen Powell
𐚁 HEY THERE DARLIN’ | @shellbilee
6 parts | complete | 🤍🌧️🍋
Glen Powell x OFC (Billie James)
fluff, swearing, angst, eventual smut
ⓒ onehopelessromantic, August 2024
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callsign-daydream · 11 months
Text
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0mg-bird · 2 months
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i would love it if you did a fic about bob finally introducing his shyer!girlfriend to the daggers! cute teasing, fluff, all the works <3
unrelated, but would you ever consider making a masterlist?
Hi! Thank you for the ask! And yes, I will be working on a master list soon, it just takes too much work for me to do as of this moment 😭. Bear with me y’all! I’m new at this! Anyway, here’s the story, hope you don’t hate it <3
Bob Floyd x Shy!Girlfriend Reader
“No.”
“Sweetheart.”
“Absolutely not, Robert.”
Bob sighed, leaning against the door while he watched you comb your hair. He’d brought up the idea he’d been toying with all day, only to get the answer he suspected he was going to get from you.
“Honey, it won’t be horrible. Look, the squad wants to meet you, and I want to introduce you to them."
He's hard to resist, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his. You understood his reasoning, but the idea of being surrounded on the beach with a bunch of cocky aviators...well, that was something you didn't really like the idea of.
You groan, looking at his reflection in the mirror before fully turning to face him. You give him a pouty look, one that makes him come forward and hold your face in his hands. "They're not gonna like me." You say, muffled from the way your cheeks are squished in his hold.
"Yes they will." He says.
"I'm boring."
"Your the most interesting thing in the world, honey."
He was always so sweet with his words, he calms your nerves every time. You know it means something to him to have his squad know who his girl is, so you try and be brave, pushing your worry out of your mind. You smile reassuringly. "Okay." You say. "It's a date."
Bob smiles, leaning down to kiss your lips, then your forehead. "It'll be a good day, I promise."
As you get into his bed, surrounded by the scent of him, he pulls you closer. "Maybe then they'll stop saying I'll never get laid." He states, making you look at him with disbelief.
"What, are we in middle school?" You ask.
He lightly chuckles. "You're gonna see the level of immaturity these guys have on Saturday, then you'll understand."
And when Saturday came, you gripped onto his hand like your life depended on it. You wore a white baby doll dress over your bikini, your sandals in your hand as you walked across the sand. As the two of you come closer, you see the group of pilots all gathered, setting up camp.
"Well, look who showed up." One of them call out as you come to join them.
You immediately blush at the amount of eyes on you They all look you over, almost like they were detectives and you were a case they needed to crack. You get introduced to them and quickly come to learn just what Bob meant, this group of the best fighter pilots in North America were no better than kids.
"I uh, I brought some snacks if y'all want some." You say, laying out multiple floral tupperware containers that were filled with homemade goods. Immediately, the boys were on it, fighting over who got what. They reminded you of seagulls.
Natasha, who was the most excited to meet the girl who Bob spoke about non stop, is yelling at the boys to mind their manners. "You wouldn't even think they were functioning adults." She jokes, making you smile.
You wait till the last minute to take your cover off, looking at the well built bodies around you made you retreat to modesty as a defense. You didn't put on your usual bathing suit because Bob said you should wear his favorite one. One that showed more skin, one that drew more attention to you. Stupidly, you agreed with him and put it on. You regret that decision now.
"Aren't you hot?" Nat asks as she pulls her tank top off.
"Oh no, I'm good." You say, giving her an awkward smile and then dig in your bag for the bottle of sunscreen.
You didn't really think it'd be embarrassing to pursue the routine you always have with Bob when you come to the beach, so as he, Hangman, Coyote and Rooster stand, talking about something way above your pay grade, you come to Bob's side. You try not to interrupt their conversation, but words slowly start to slow and they get distracted by the way you pull Bob's glasses off his face. You squirt some of the sunscreen out and into your hands, then you gently apply it to his face. The three others stop and watch, faces full of amusement as you make sure he has an even coverage. Bob doesn't mind, he was never one to be embarrassed of the loving acts you do for him, so you find it strange when you turn around and see the guys watching you.
"That's awfully sweet of you." Coyote comments, and you make the mistake of taking him literally.
"Bob, do you get your mom to fly in and do it for you when she's not around or do you just risk the sunburn?" Hangman teases, making the other two laugh.
You look at the tall aviator. "Sunscreens important, Jake, do you need some? I could help you with it or I'm sure your boyfriend here could do it for you." You say, motioning to Coyote.
Rooster bursts with laughter, wheezing at the joke you make, and behind you, Bob stands with a proud and smug look on his face.
Jake fumbles with his words, in disbelief that you’re being outspoken.
Back at your beach blanket, you clip your hair up and look around, making sure no eyes were directly on you as you pull your dress off and drop it into your bag. Any previous jokes that some of the boys made about Bob finding a goody-two-shoes for a girlfriend, are immediately regretted when they see how great you look in a bikini.
Payback looks ultimately confused. "Anyone else wondering how Baby on Board gets to sleep with a girl like that?" He asks out of ear shot from you.
"Probably because he's not a total dick like you are." Nat suggests.
"Bobby?" You get his attention as you lay on the blanket, holding up the sunscreen, silently asking him to get your back so you can tan for awhile.
At the sound of the name, some of the boys laugh, making you blush.
"Hey, Bobby, will you get my back next?" Fanboy teases, making Bob glare as he sits beside you. "Did he just glare at me?" He asks, in utter disbelief that Bob was capable of it.
Bob undoes the back of your suit, gently running his hands over your bare skin. "Are you good here for awhile? We're gonna play a game of dog fight football." He asks.
You turn your head to look at him. "I'll survive."
He ties your suit back together, then meets your lips as you lean up to kiss him.
It was peaceful, laying and watching the aviators goof around, running up and down the beach. You had no idea that the questions being asked between plays were all about you.
"What'd you do in order to win her over?" Rooster asks, grunting as he throws the football.
"I'm still trying to figure that out." Bob huffs, blocking Fanboy so he can't intercept.
"She's cute, doesn't talk much though." Fanboy adds.
"She does, just not to people she barely knows." Bob defends.
As Hangman runs by, he pauses. "Be honest with us, Bobby, you ever get bored of her?"
Bob looks at him like he's crazy. "Never. One of these days, Hangman, you'll learn that crazy bar girls don't make girlfriends. Maybe my girl's shy but she's a whole lot better than whatever new girl you can't make stick around."
The ones around them laugh at Hangman getting called out for the second time today.
"Jokes aside." Rooster says. "I'm happy for you, man, she seems good to you."
Bob looks back at you lazily reading a book, your feet kicking back and fourth in the air behind you. "Yeah, I really like her...actually I'm gonna ask her to move in."
They all gasp.
"We'll say a prayer for you man." Coyote shakes his head.
At some point, you had rolled onto you back and let your hair down, sunglasses on your face as you rest your eyes. Though, your sun is covered by a shadow after a while. You open our eyes, gazing up at the man who's standing above you. You prop yourself up on your elbows.
"Hi." You grin, watching as Bob pulls his sweaty shirt off, revealing his toned upper body. You move your sunglasses down your nose to get a better look, then take them off entirely.
"Hey, you ready to go into the water?" He asks, making you shake your head.
"I'm good on dry land, sailor."
Bob gives you a smirk. "Now, that's just not going to do."
"I'm okay here, Bobby, go have fun with your squad, they're already in the water." You say.
"So you want me to join them and leave you here?" He asks, making you nod in agreement.
He hums, pausing before leaning down and scooping you into his arms. You gasp, flailing in his hold but his grip is too strong. "Bobby, no! Put me down!"
"Not a chance."
You form a death grip, arms holding tightly around his neck as he makes it to the water with you. "Don't do this." You laugh loudly.
"Are you ready?" He asks.
"No! Bobby!"
He loosens his grip, pretending to drop you, making you yell and tighten your grip around him even more. The dagger squad starts chanting ‘overboard’, and you feel the cool water slosh up against you as Bob walks further in.
“Bobby!”
“One.”
“No, baby, please.”
“Two.”
“Robert Floyd!”
“Three!”
He falls sideways into the water with you, making you sink under before you pop back up, wiping your eyes. You can’t help but laugh, splashing him as he pops up in front of you.
“I can’t believe you.” You say, wrapping your arms around him.
He grins boyishly. “Sorry, honey.”
The squad watches as the two of you swim beside each other.
“So…Bob is getting laid.” Coyote says.
“He’s the only one who is.” Rooster adds.
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cap-winter-barnes · 2 months
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He’s A Loser (Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader)
Y/N is Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw’s little sister and he’s finally introduced her to the rest of Dagger Squad. What neither of them anticipated was them both have an instant attraction, despite Bradley’s best efforts, the inevitable still happens.
Part Two
Warnings: swearing
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The Hard Deck is overflowing with men and women in uniform, which is why you stick out like a sore thumb. Bradley told you to keep it casual, but how could you keep it casual when you were the only one not dressed in khaki. You toy with the hem of your blouse as you search the packed out bar for your brother and his aviator friends.
“Hey, Y/N! Over here!” Bradley spotted you first, not that it was difficult with your attire. Laid back as usual, your brother lounges against the side of the snooker table, cue in hand and a big smile on his face. “Everyone, this is Y/N! Y/N this is Dagger!” There’s an exchange of ‘hellos’ and introductions as you greet Bradley with a hug. The only woman of the group, Phoenix, has been waiting for the day another female joins their social gatherings and welcomes you with open arms. Yet as you chat away, you can see your older sibling glaring daggers at the men of the group who have yet to find a distraction from your arrival.
“Well, well, well…” Bradley drops his head and sighs. “If it isn’t ‘Baby Bradshaw”. That voice automatically sends shivers down your spine, there’s only one man that could cause that reaction in Bradley Bradshaw. You’d been given the run down on the infamous ‘Hangman’, with your brother warning you about his cocky ego. But when you turn to meet him yourself, you don’t expect for him to be as handsome as he is. His uniform barely containing his toned arms. Meeting his eyes, you can’t help but smile as you soak in the green of his gaze.
“And you must be Hangman?” You reach out a hand to shake, and it appears you’re not what he was expecting either as he trails his eyes over you before taking your hand in his. Now you’re not one for cliches but you could swear you feel a shock of electricity through his touch. When you meet his eyes again, it seems he felt the same.
“Yes, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Before you can respond, Bradley is shouldering his way between the two of you, his overprotective big brother personality shining through once again. “Rooster?”
“What did I tell you Bagman? Hmm?” Hangman raises his hands in surrender and backs away. “That’s what I thought.”
“Brad, what the fuck?” You can feel your anger simmering, you love your brother dearly but you’re a grown woman, you can stand up for and look after yourself.
“He’s a loser. Don’t even think about it.”
“I-“
“I said what I said, Y/N. Don’t.”
It doesn't take long for your brother to drink enough to get distracted by pretty girls on the other side of the bar. Jake takes the opportunity to sneak a conversation with you beside the jukebox, a whisky in his hand and a smile on his face.
"So Baby Bradshaw..."
"Are you really going to keep calling me that... Hangman?" He chuckles at your retort.
"Would you prefer, Baby Girl, instead?" You flush at his words as you take your lower lip between your front teeth. It's not often that you find yourself at a loss for words, yet here Jake Seresin stands making you tongue-tied. "I'm taking that as a yes."
"You are such a flirt, Seresin." His eyebrow lifts as you use his surname. "You talk to all the girls like this?" He's never met a woman quite like you and it's safe to say that he's falling deep already.
"No, ma'am. Only the beautiful young lady who just so happens to be the baby sister of my dear old pal, Rooster." Whisky glass discarded, Jake's now empty hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer. "And no one could ever compare to a woman like her."
"Oh you are smooth." Your hands trail up his chest, nails scraping against the material of his uniform. The feel of his heart hammering in his chest thumps against your palms. You don't dare let him go, wanting to soak in his touch for as long as you possibly can. "So are you going to kiss me or not Hangman?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Part Two
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Okay, so I'm thinking of doing a Part 2 for this? I'd love to know what you guys think, so please let me know - I'm super excited to carry this one on but wanted to give you all a little taster first.
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mysunshinetemptress · 2 months
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I Hate Her part two
Part one
Leah Williamson x enemy reader
Warning: Feeling like and outsider, self doubt, Leah being an asshole
A/n: I’m taking a break for the weekend, I’m just to busy to post anything so I’ll see you all Monday
You don’t make the roaster for Tokyo 2020, You wait patiently anxiously by the phone, you haven’t left your house scared that the phone will ring and you’ll either miss it or make a show of yourself in public and when the phone call comes your so happy you decide to stay at home, your told that maybe next you’ll get the chance but for now it’s a no, they just don’t think you're fully ready. You, you who have been on the senior squad since you were twenty, how are you not ready to be a part of team GB? 
How is she, how is Leah good enough to be a part of the Olympic squad and you're not, you got the call-up first to the Lionesses, you have the most clean tackles of the last two seasons of the WSL, you have the most goal scored by a defender of last season, how is she the better choice. 
You’re gutted, gutted as it’s officially announced and you watch the congratulations roll in for your teammates and you can’t help but feel like you're supposed to be there too, to be getting a congratulations instead of “Oh darling I’m so sorry, you’ll get it next time.” 
So when the phone call comes in a month before the team is set to leave for camp and start getting ready for the Olympics you can’t help but feel like a fraud in a sense, this is what you wanted, but not like this, not as a second choice, not when one of your teammates, friends has to pull out due to injury. 
You let out a half-hearted smile under the mask as you greet the social media team “Excited?” You nod “Excited.” You head in getting a COVID test done before moving to get your room allocation. 
You feel lost in camp these girls have known they were going to be a part of this squad for months now but you, you’re the last one in, the final pick, the second choice, and Leah has no problem showing it. 
Leah was the first to make you feel like an intruder. Her eyes once filled with camaraderie, now held a cold indifference. Her snide remarks, subtle digs and subtle exclusion, were like tiny daggers, aimed with precision to erode your confidence. You were a constant reminder of her misfortune, a living, breathing symbol of her failure.
The weight of expectation was suffocating. Every mistake, every missed pass, was magnified under the unforgiving spotlight of the Olympic stage. You were haunted by the fear of letting everyone down, of proving your doubters right. The girl who once thrived under pressure was now paralysed by it.
Nights were the worst. As your teammates shared laughter and inside jokes, you retreated into the solitude of your room. But your room only offered up that solitude during the day, when your eyes closed the same recurring nightmares plagued your mind and fed into the doubt, The medal ceremony played on repeat in your mind, their faces beaming with pride, stood on the podium as you tried to reach it, tried to climb on but a boot always connected with your hand stamping on it again and again forcing you to let go, before laughter erupted from the team, all looking down on you laughing at your inability to make it up, to be good enough to stand on the podium alongside them, the scene changes their names etched in history. And you? You a footnote, “Y/n Y/L/N the one who nearly ruined it for us all.” 
No one understands it, they haven’t tried to push you out, to exclude you (Leah has, her friends have been unexpectedly roped into it). The older girls are worried, your Captains Kim Little, Sophie Ingle and Ellen White can see it, you’re young, far too young to put so much pressure on yourself that you slip away from the group, and so they decide tonight is a team night, a mandatory team night. 
 You’re late, late for the team night and you feel nauseous as you open the door to the common room and everyone turns to look at you, you freeze until a hand grabs yours and you look up to see Ella, Ella, funny, loud Ella, she pulls you along to sit with her and Niamh and you do so quickly. Millie looks at you concerned raising a thumb up to make sure you’re ok, all you can do is nod. 
“Right ladies, shall we play a game.” Everyone lets out a cheer as they discuss what game to play Niamh tries to make conversation “So what’s the plans for summer break.” You shrug “I want to go to  Spain but I don’t know if that’s going to happen.” Ella shakes her head “We are all heading to Ibiza, you should come.” You nod slightly “Who is going.” Ella rattles off the names as the group seems to quieten down. 
Paranoia, is the game you used to play in secondary school, when you were an immature teenager, why this game, who chose this game. You felt your anxiety rise as flashes from your time sitting around the canteen table playing the game passed through your mind. 
You're safe for the start, no one mentions you, although there are slight digs here and there each girl seems to take it with a laugh, there’s nice ones too but still the bad ones always slip through. You don’t get a mention from anyone else but Leah’s best friends.
“Weakest pass” 
“Y/n”
“*****”
“Y/n” 
“*********”
“Y/n”
It was constant,  you laughed it off (forced laugh) when you found out, it was fine you could deal with it until you couldn’t. 
Leah thinks for a minute, it’s her turn again and everything she has said about you so far is only scratching the surface of how much she seems to hate you, she knows what to say she just hopes Keira takes the bait. She leans overhand covering her mouth and Keira's ear, she should know it’s a bad one from Keira's reaction, Kiera knows what Leah wants her to say but this ones mean, really mean, she can’t, not about you, you don’t fit this description, your miles ahead of the younger girls, but she doesn’t know what else to do. “Y/n.”
You sigh, you’re tired, bored even, bored of them choosing you, there are 21 other girls here, why do they keep picking on you? 
You flip the coin and watch as it lands on heads, Keira looks mortified while Leah wears a half smile, she looks proud of the fact you get to find out the question so she doesn’t even give Kiera the chance to “Who’s the worst player on the squad.” 
Your heart plummets, and you look between Leah and Keira, Keira’s eyes flick around the room trying to look anywhere but you, Leah, Leah looks guilty, no her expression changes so quick but she settles with a half smile again. 
You force out another laugh only this one is ten times more broken than the last, Ella grabs your hand trying to comfort you, comfort you about what, Leah’s right, you’re the worst player on the squad. You look around at the rest of your team’s concerned faces and panic you have to say something, otherwise, you’ll come off weak.
“Well obviously, I-I mean I was a second choice.” 
The words don’t have the effect you want and the girls look at you worriedly eyes soft “I think we better call it a night.” 
You play every game Team GB is part of in the Olympics, you help get them to the quarter-finals, you, the second choice, the worst player on the squad, play every game. 
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itsbeeble · 2 months
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Cheerleaders and Stereotypes
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SUMMARY: Choi San isn't an idiot. He's also very patient. How long will it take for you to let him admit that he bagged the hottest cheerleader in the world?
GENRE: fluff, angst, smut
PAIRING: Choi San x afab!reader
WC: ~4.7k
ATEEZ MASTERLIST
PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn @flwoie
18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
WARNINGS: reader is dumb, relationship is actually a little toxic I won't even lie, san tries to make reader jealous and it works, p in v sex, fingering, size kink, SIZE. KINK., softdom!san, big dick!san, um reader struggles to ride san idk, bulge kink, san lowkey mocks the reader a bit, insecurities, arguing, san lowkey is way too patient for reader, idk i think that's it
A/N: h-heyyyyy *chuckles nervously* Everyone say welcome back tumblr user itsbeeble! Everyone say thank you @from-izzy and @sanaxo-o for distracting me while I was writing and to ally for supporting me through a very very very very long writers block hahahahhahahhahhahha....haha...ha
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Choi San, despite popular belief, was not an idiot. Not really at least. Unfortunately for him, he seemed to fit most of the stereotypes of a college athlete.
He was fit, that was without a doubt and he would not deny it. Six days a week in the gym after football practice did him good. Toned arms that hardly fit any of his shirts, the fabric stretching and nearly tearing every time he got dressed. Thick thighs that bulged against every pair of jeans or sweatpants, noticeable from the stands on game day and having girls swooning as he walked. Not to mention his ass. Had he not built up a brick wall called “confidence” the comments made about his ass would have had him blushing and covering his cheeks rather than smirking. 
God, that smirk. He flashed it casually to anyone who looked at him— students, professors, the crowd, the opposing team, the cheerleaders. It was a near unfortunate bonus that he was just as hot as he was fit. That stupid chiselled jaw, the dimples, and his tall frame. It’s irritating. 
At least, it’s irritating for you. 
See, being the supposedly stupid captain of the football team came with many stereotypes. 
Dating the captain of the cheerleading squad was just one more, even if no one knew. 
No one important, that is.
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“Sannie,” Yewon was practically hanging off San’s arm, her manicured nails lightly scratching the tan skin. The sing-song tone of her voice made you cringe, the noise scraping at your eardrums and creating a dull throb in your already aching skull. Your back was turned to the pair, but San could tell you were likely trying to grow eyes in the back of your skull to watch the interaction. That stupid, casual smirk of his was trained on the newer cheerleader, her eyes big and filled with faux innocence. “How did you get so big?”
A poorly stifled snort from another girl on the squad, Sihyeon. A good friend of yours who knows exactly what goes on between you and San behind closed doors, and knows exactly what he’s planning. That little snort has you turning the daggers you call eyes onto her, the girls around her shifting uncomfortably at the now tense energy around you. 
Jealousy. That’s what San’s goal is and you know it. He’s pulled this trick several times before, trying to egg you on and expose the relationship that you’d chosen to hide. So he’d play stupid, that same act that everyone believes is a poor reality. The dumb, hot captain of the football team who can’t seem to get a girlfriend despite the girls falling at his feet for a moment of his attention. All he wants is for you to finally get jealous enough to rip that girl off his arm and finally stake your claim publicly. 
Unfortunately, you’re patient. 
Fortunately, so is he.
He smirks down at her, his arm grazing the skin of her lower back that her top doesn’t cover. You can practically hear her breathing stutter, and your grip on your pom poms tightens.
“Never skip a day at the gym, never skip practice, throw a good party on the weekends.” His answer is…lackluster at best. Your nose wrinkles, knowing he did it on purpose. The idiotic responses are for you, in hopes that you’ll turn around and yell at him for pretending to be a moron even though he’s one of the best students in the Kinesiology department. 
“You’ll have to coach me through a workout one day,” Yewon grabs San’s arm tighter when she sees you turn to face the pair. 
“Maybe I should take you up on that.” San isn’t looking at her, not even a brief glance down to acknowledge that she’s there. No, his eyes are trained on you. Daring you to say something, anything. 
Do it.
You know you want to.
Stake the claim.
You know I’m yours. Why not let everyone else know?
You open your mouth to speak, and he quirks an eyebrow at you. Do it, do it, do it.
“Kim Yewon,” the words are laced with venom and she goes rigid. “Break ended ten minutes ago.”
“I was talking to Sannie!” She glared at you, and you almost laughed. 
“Sannie,” you mocked, watching a pout form on your boyfriend’s lips, “has his own practice to get to.”
“Our practice ended half an hour ago.” He argued, toeing the limits of how far he can push you before you finally break. 
“Then leave.” 
“I don’t want to. I wanna stay and talk with Yewon.” He challenged. Sihyeon grimaces behind you, watching as San digs himself a grave not even he can climb out of. 
The two of you stare each other down for a few moments, a mix of emotions running through you. You know that he’s challenging you and trying to get a rise out of you, but you know better. You know you can’t challenge him like that without exposing your relationship— the one thing in your life that you want to keep to yourself for just a little while longer. 
You’re the first to cave, your shoulders slumping just enough to be noticed by San, and his eyebrows knit together. 
“Do what you want. Practice is done for the day.”
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The two-story rental house you share with Sihyeon and a few other girls from the squad is eerily silent. The air conditioning and the sound of you quietly walking around your room are the only things keeping you from the thoughts in your head. 
Did San take Yewon up on the ‘offer’?
Did you take it too far?
Should you have just caved for him?
What if he’s sick of this? Of the secret meet-ups and the acting?
Something hits the window as you’re walking past it, and a loud squeak escapes you. You whip your head around just as, what you now realize is, a rock hits the window. Not a large rock. Small, just enough to be noticeable and visible to the naked eye as it tumbles back down to the front lawn. Another rock as you take the two steps you need in order to peer down and see San with a pile of rocks on the ground next to him, a fourth in his hand ready to be thrown if needed. He grins when he sees you, tossing the rock up and down a couple of times before taking aim.
You fling your window open, scowling down at him before he winds his hand back. 
“Don’t you fucking dare, Choi San.” He pouts up at you, but all you do is glare. 
“How else was I supposed to get your attention?”
“Ring the doorbell, dumbass. Like a normal person.” 
Much to your annoyance, San just grins and drops the rock. “Where’s the fun in that?”
You lean against the window frame, arms folded as you run your tongue over your lip in thought. “Shouldn’t you be with Yewon?” 
You can see San’s nose wrinkle at the thought, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he makes his way to the tree he’d been using as a sort of ladder to get into your room. He’d been doing that since you met, since the first time you ever slept together. He’d never been a fan of the whole…front door tactic. Your father would probably hate him. He’d think San was no good, a troublemaker if anything. You would disagree. 
Maybe your relationship was more stereotypical than you were willing to believe. 
San’s shoes are louder than either of you had expected as he jumps down from the tree, grimacing at the noise he makes.
“If my neighbors didn’t know any better, the police would’ve been here by now.” You shuffle back as your boyfriend tucks awkwardly through your window. His large frame pushes against the frame, the vinyl creaking against him as it struggles to stay in one piece. His neck cranes to look up at you, his feet hitting the ground with another loud thump.
“Glad they know better then.” He pushes a hand through his hair, the silky black strands falling loosely over his forehead in spite of his best efforts. 
A moment of silence falls between you, and you take this time to sit at your dresser. Makeup wipes and cleansers are scattered in front of you from when you’d made a weak attempt at distracting yourself from, well, the problem you’d created. 
San sits on your bed behind you, watching every move you make. He sits quietly, like a child in a timeout chair. He waits, letting you make the calls. You never knew why he started doing that— started letting you take the lead in every argument, even the petty nonsensical ones.
“You never answered my question,” your eyes are trained on him through the mirror. He presses his lips together, loosely folding his legs.
“Are you really that upset?” The question is innocent enough, but it brings back the previous irritation from the field. 
“Why wouldn’t I be? My boyfriend is openly flirting with other people knowing that I’ll get pissed off. You flaunt that knowledge like it’s your fucking birthright or whatever. Do you really think I’m not gonna get upset about it?” You put your moisteurizer down with more force than you’d wanted to, shaking your dresser a bit. San flinches at the sudden noise, gnawing at his lip in thought. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Are you, though?” Your eyes are narrowed as you turn around in your chair. A momentary pause as San lets the words sink in. He’s patient. So patient with you, even when you feel you don’t deserve it. “You act like you don’t give two shits about our relationship, and then show up at my fucking window acting like nothing is wrong and that the world is all sunshine and fucking rainbows. You go out of your way to piss me off, make me angry at my own squad, just for what? So you can get a good fuck at the end of the day?” 
Sometimes you forget that, while Choi San is patient, that patience runs thin. 
He isn’t stupid. He knows that this outburst, this frustration, isn’t just at him, but the more you spit your venom at him, taking your anger and misdirecting it, the more his patience begins to run out. You can see it in the clenching of his fists, the ticking of his jaw, and the glare in his eyes. 
Unfortunately, you’re far too lost in your mind that you can’t see the way San rises from his seat on your bed and takes a step toward you. Then another, and another, and suddenly he’s right in front of you. 
“Sometimes I think that the idiotic front that you put on isn’t exactly a front at all—” You spin around, expecting him to still be on your bed. A loud yelp escapes you when you come face-to-face with his well-built frame. “Jesus Christ, San! Why the fuck are you right behi—”
“Shut up,” he says it so simply, so calmly that you almost think he’s not being serious. 
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!” You snarl, and San scoffs. 
“Do you even realize why we’re in this situation to begin with?”
“Yeah, you were flirting with my fucking—”
“Don’t blame me for your fucking problems,” San spits out. Your eyes widen and you take a step back. “I’ve been going along with this stupid fucking secret relationship for who knows how long, and all I’ve gotten in return is you bitching about me wanting you to just come out with it!” 
“You know I want to keep—”
“You want to keep your love life private,” San interrupts and flings his hands into the air. “I get it. I understand, Y/N. That doesn’t make it suck any less.” 
“It isn’t just—” you huff, pressing your hand to your forehead in a poor attempt at calming yourself down. “It isn’t just the fact that I want to keep us private, Sannie. I just— I don’t—” 
Your eyes are welling up with tears, and you blink a few times to force them back. San pulls you toward him, his hand practically engulfing yours as he tugs you onto his lap. Your legs are on either side of his, and he laces his fingers with yours, resting them between the two of you. 
“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong, sweetheart.” He murmurs, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Let me help you.”
You shake your head, and his chest rises and falls with a quiet sigh. “I’m just— I’m just so sick of— of everything.” 
San presses a little kiss to your forehead, tugging one of his hands free from yours and lacing it through the strand of hair on the back of your head. He doesn’t move for a few moments, placing another kiss on your forehead and then another. He waits for you to calm yourself and gather your thoughts. 
“Can—” your voice is quieter, a bit more shaky than it was just moments ago. “Can you kiss me?” San smiles, his lips still just millimeters from your forehead.
“Tell me what’s wrong first.” Your hips shift against his, and you drop your head against the column of his neck. Your breath is warm against his skin, and the scent of your shampoo begins to flood his senses. His hand tugs at your hair, drawing your attention back to him. “You’re absolutely insatiable, you know that? Tell me what’s wrong or I’m leaving.”
You can’t fight the little whine that’s pulled out of you. Not that you wanted to. You wanted him. You wanted Choi San so badly that it hurt.
“I was— I was mad because I didn’t want…” You can hardly form a sentence, too distracted by the gentle tugs at your hair and the way San’s other hand has drifted to your hip, drawing circles underneath the fabric of your sleep shorts. 
“What didn’t you want, sweetheart? Tell me.” San pulls your head away from his neck, holding back a grin at the near-glazed look in your eyes. 
“I didn’t want to be part of anymore…stereotypes. We already fit so many, I just—I just wanted to hold that one back for a bit longer.” You whine, your lips falling into a pout that San just wants to kiss away. Instead, he smiles. 
“Was that so hard, pretty girl? So much fighting just for a silly little reason like that?” Your pout deepens, and he sighs. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yeah…”
“And nothing is gonna change that, no matter how many stereotypes we fall under. You understand?”
“Yes,” San smiles, stroking your hip and squeezing it.
“‘Yes’ what, baby?” Your eyes are glossy now, your lips parted slightly in your daze.
“Yes sir.”
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Despite San’s patience running thin, he always recovers it with ease. Patience is what he’s known for in class, on the field, in your relationship, and in your bedroom. 
He can edge you for hours, cooing at the way you beg for him, beg for that sweet release, for just one more finger, please just one more.
“Pretty girl,” he strokes your cheek, letting his hand slide down your spine to rest against the small of your back. You’re writhing beneath him, trying desperately to bring your hips up just enough for him to hit that sweet spot inside of you but failing miserably. “I don’t think you can handle anymore.” 
Only two of his fingers sit inside you, but it’s more than enough to stretch you out, to provide you with the stimulation you need to go right over the edge—
“San—sir, please.” Your hands grip the pillow beneath your head tightly, nails digging into the fabric so tight you’re afraid it might tear. “Pl—Please lemme cum, I prom—promise I’ll b—be good. Please,” You’re nearly hysterical, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as he plunges his fingers in and out of you, his thumb dancing over your clit but not quite giving you that extra stimulation. Not that you need it with the way he grinds the tips of his fingers into the spongy spot just within his reach. 
“You wanna cum that bad?” San leans down, his chest pressed against your back and his lips right up against your ear. “You’re gonna have to work harder than that. Beg for it. Scream. I want everyone to know that you’re mine.” 
Patience is a virtue you haven’t quite learned yet. What you have learned? You’re extraordinarily good at making Choi San cave for you. 
“Sir,” you plead, pushing your hips back against his hand just enough. There’s a burning feeling in your stomach, the knot winding tighter and tighter until you almost can’t take it. “Please. I’m so so—sorry for yelling. Please I’ve been so good for you. I can take it. Please let me take it. Want you s—so bad. Want you to ma—make me cum. Want you, Sannie! Please, please make me cum. Want you to fuck me so bad, ple—please!” 
For a moment, San’s hand stills inside you. For a moment all you can hear is your desperate whining and your boyfriend attempting to steady his breathing. 
Then he’s ripping his fingers out of your sopping cunt and rolling you onto your back. His frame looms over you in a way that has your body quivering with anticipation, eyes searching yours for…something that you can’t figure out in your lust-filled haze. 
“Such a pretty girl,” San murmurs, pressing his palm at the base of your stomach, one hand nearly covering the expanse of it. “So small, so good for me. So good for Sannie, hm?”
“Yes!” You grab his wrist, nails digging so tightly you’re afraid you might draw blood. “Please, wanna be so good for you Sannie!” 
He sighs, prying your hand away from his wrist and pinning it to the mattress. “You say that, but I don’t know if I believe you.” 
A sob pushes out of you, your back arching into him. He catches you before you can lower back down to the bed, his arm looping around you to keep you pressed against his chest while he sits back. You’re right where you started— on the bed, straddling him with tears running down your cheeks— but this time you’re both completely undressed. You can feel his cock pressing against your thigh, little twitches being the only indication of any impatience. You try to roll your hips against him, trying anything to get that friction back. San clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 
“Naughty girl,” he murmurs, stilling your hips with one hand. “Thought you said you’d be good for me.”
“I—I will!” You grab his shoulders, leaning your face up to his, trying desperately to kiss him— to do anything that might sway his decision. “I’m sorry, sir! I promise I just— I just wanted—”
“I know,” he kisses you gently, smiling softly, deceptively. “I know you just wanted to cum all over your Sannie’s lap. Been edgin’ you for so long, haven’t I? You deserve to cum for being so…patient.” You let out a relieved sob as San releases your hip and grabs his cock. He guides it through your folds briefly, soaking it in your arousal and pumping his hand up and down his shaft to thoroughly lubricate it. “You’re gonna prove to me that you can be good, baby. Okay?”
“Yes, yes Sannie!” You lift your hips just enough for him to align his tip with your entrance, almost starting to cry again at the feeling. He helps you sink, knowing that two fingers weren’t enough for you. It never is. No matter how much he fucks you, it’s always a tight fit for you, not that you ever complain. You never complain about how big San is compared to you. He’s caught you drooling over this size of his dick more times than he can count, usually trying to talk you out of riding him out of fear of hurting you. But not today. No, today he’s giving you exactly what you wanted. 
“Go ahead, sweetheart.” He encourages. “Fuck yourself dumb on Sannie’s cock.”
The look in your eyes becomes almost animalistic. You shift your body a bit, steadying your hands on his shoulders, and lift your hips until just his tip remains inside of you. San can feel the way you’re clenching around his tip, knows you’re doing it intentionally, and he lets his head fall back. 
When you sink intohim for the first time, you emit a strangled gasp, your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your nails digging into your lover’s shoulders.
“F—Fuck Sannie!” You bite down on your lip, lifting your hips again and dropping back down. “Mmph—fuck you’re too big!”
“You wanted this, sweetheart,” San tells you, rolling his head to the side and groaning as you continue to struggle with riding him. You try so, so hard to build a steady rhythm, but your legs are shaking and your breath is already gone. “I thought cheerleaders were supposed to have good stamina.”
“No—Not when their boyfriend has a f—fucking huge dick!” You cry out, giving up and grinding your hips against his. The steady rolling of your hips relieves the burn just a bit, and you moan as the tip of his cock grinds into that spot with more strength than his fingers did just minutes ago. “Fuck, I can fe—feel you in my stomach!” 
San lifts his head at that, a new hunger in his eyes and he leans you back. You slow your hips at the sudden movement, furrowing your brows while you watch him. He kisses his teeth and places a firm slap on the side of your hip. 
“I didn’t tell you to stop, did I?” He grips your hip tightly in both hands, forcing you to keep riding him. “Keep going, sweetheart. Keep going until I tell you to stop.” 
You do, your hips picking up a steady pace with the help of one of his hands to guide you along. His other hand presses against your stomach, and you hear his breathing hitch.
“Baby,” he takes your hand from his shoulder, squeezing it gently as he guides it to where his hand was previously. “Feel right here.” 
You hesitate just a moment, and he looks down at you, smiling encouragingly. 
Then you feel it. 
The bulge in your stomach where the tip of his cock reaches as far as it can possibly go. 
“You feel that, baby?” San presses your hand down and you both let out a simultaneous moan at the feeling. The white-hot pleasure builds back up in the pit of your stomach, the loosened knot returning with renewed fervor and you know San can tell. You know that he’s close too, his hips thrusting up to meet yours halfway. “God, you feel so good. How did I get so fucking lucky, huh?”
You don’t respond. You can’t respond. The pleasure is blinding. All you can feel, see, hear, and smell is San. He clouds your thoughts, your senses, your very being. The pleasure is winding up, drawing that knot tighter and tighter and tighter—
“C—Cumming, San!” You arch into him, and he holds your hip to keep you moving. “Fuck, fuck I’m cumming!”
“I know, pretty girl,” he grunts, his thrusts stuttering. “Fuck, I’m close. Keep going baby, wanna cum with you.”
Your hips are moving slower, your muscles burning and you can’t stop yourself from forcing San back until he’s laying against the bed. Your hands find purchase on his chest, sweat beading on your forehead with the effort to keep moving, to keep riding him until you’re both forced over the edge you’d been begging for. 
San’s thumb drifts across your hip, finding purchase on your swollen clit and rubbing sloppy circles into it until you’re sobbing again, sobbing his name and begging for that sweet release. 
When it hits you, it’s blinding. Stars spark behind your eyes, your head tossed back and sweet cries pulled from the depths of your chest. His hips thrust into yours one more time, his eyes trained on how you arch your back and twitch with your release, and then he’s cumming. Thick globs of cum fill you up to the brim, seeping out from the seams of your cunt and mixing with your release. You let yourself collapse against his chest, practically gasping for air and shaking from the effort of riding him.
“You finally got what you wanted,” San murmurs, resting one of his hands on the small of your back as his cock softens in you. “You finally got to ride me.”
“Never…never doing that again,” you mutter back, placing a kiss on the base of his neck. “Absolutely…not.”
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“I can’t believe you’re actually letting this happen.” San is grinning ear to ear as he drives you to campus, his free hand holding yours tightly. You purse your lips, refusing to admit defeat.
“This doesn’t mean I want everyone knowing—”
“Bullshit,” San interrupts with a grin. “You want everyone to know that I bagged the hottest cheerleader in the world.”
“You didn’t bag shit, Choi San. And if you say that you ‘bagged’ me to anyone on the football team,” your eyes turn to daggers as you jab a finger into his shoulder, “I will end your bloodline where it stands. Your mom can say ‘bye’ to any chances of a grandchild from us.”
San grimaces, but it’s replaced by a radiant smile as he pulls into the parking garage closest to your building. “You can make as many threats as you want, sweetheart, but you and I both know you won’t risk that. You love getting fucked after dealing with Yewon every day.” 
He opens your door for you, beaming as he helps you out of his car. 
“I’ll make you a deal, sweetheart.”
“Will you now?” Your response is sarcastic but San ignores it.
“You let me show you off as much as I want, and I bitch out Yewon today.”
You don’t even have to think about your response, a grin replacing your scowl.
“That sounds like a damn good deal, Choi San.”
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“Sannie!” 
Yewon’s grating voice has never sounded so fucking heavenly in your ears, knowing exactly what’s going to happen next. San is already at your side, rifling through your bag for the extra granola bar he knows you have. He grimaces at the sound, his eyes almost begging you to help him, but you shake your head.
“You dug your own grave, Sannie.” A quick pat on his shoulder and his fate is decided for him.
“Yewon,” he greets the girl, continuing to rifle through the bag. “Can I help you?” 
The disinterest in his voice didn’t deter her, not that anyone was surprised. The cheer squad watched the younger, newer, dumber member as she stumbled through her flirtations, complimenting him on things he didn’t need nor want to be complimented on while searching for a fucking granola bar. 
“Yewon,” San finally interrupts the girl, rising with the snack in his hand and glaring down at her. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m not interested.” 
The shock on her face made you smile. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe it was a bitch named Karma. Or, maybe, you were sick of the shitty stereotypes that you always seemed to fall victim to. 
“But you—you always—”
“I was trying to make my girlfriend jealous of me, as shitty as that is,” San pinches the bridge of his nose and scoffs. “But I’ve already got myself a cheerleader, Kim Yewon. And she’s the best girlfriend I could ever ask for. Plus, she’s hot as fuck,” San grins at you, but you can only roll your eyes.
“I said no—”
“You said I couldn’t tell people I bagged you,” it takes him three steps to reach your side and grab your chin. “Not that I couldn’t call you the hottest cheerleader in the world. No offense, Sihyeon.”
“None taken,” your best friend waves her hand dismissively. “I’m just glad you two finally got your heads out of your asses.” 
“Shut up, Sihyeon.” You scowl, but San is quick to bend down, hunching at the shoulders to reach your height and kiss you firmly on the mouth. It’s a searing kiss, more than he said he would do in front of the squad, but you let him have his moment. 
You’d made him wait long enough.
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